“Hard to say. We’re waiting on security footage to see if we can track his movements.”
“What about his boys?”
“Most are in the wind or keeping their heads down. After everything…” Moore pauses, his voice heavy with unspoken implications. “They won’t do anything without Walsh. Just try and keep your head down, and I’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information.”
I finish setting the table when Aiden reemerges, leaning against the door frame with a smirk.
“What was that about?” I ask, trying to act like I didn’t just hear his conversation.
“Walsh has gone and done a runner,” he says casually, shrugging his shoulders. Stepping away from the door, his eyes flit to the table. “This looks good, bug.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
Aiden shrugs again, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips. “I’m not.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he grabs me by the hips and pulls me against him. “With Walsh off on his holibops, it means we can move the wedding up with no fear of him causing trouble.”
I never thought of it like that.
He leans down to kiss me, his lips brushing against mine softly. “How does Thursday sound?”
“As in six days from now? I don’t even have a dress!” I pull away slightly, feeling a rush of panic.
Aiden’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “You’ll be surprised at how quickly we can get everything sorted out. Trust me, it will be perfect.”
37
AIDEN
I never thought a door would be so difficult to open but given the sixty million bags weighing my arms down, dangling from my fingers, and now my jaw since I had to stuff my keys back into my pocket, it’s proving to be a hindrance.
“Got it,” Raven mumbles around the stack of boxes he’s carrying.
My bug wants a fairytale wedding, and I’ve got five days to give her it. Thankfully, I have servers, chefs, and bartenders on my payroll.
Robbie rang around and found us a dress maker willing to work throughout the night for the next three days—for a substantial fee. I dropped Katie off to get her measurements done before she ran me and made off with my wallet.
Scott is hunting down florists, and I’m here to sort out the menu for the big day.
“Right then,” I grunt, dropping the bags on the first table in the kitchen. Dandelions will be closed for two days this week, I need the staff to cater my wedding, I’mconfident that the restaurant will survive the short break. “She wants a fairytale; I don’t care what you make to cater to that menu, but you better not drop the ball, or you’ll be looking for new jobs come Monday.”
Sweet Jesus, who knew carrying a couple bags could be so exhausting?
“What does she like?” Darren, our head chef, asks, ready to take on the challenge. If he succeeds, he will receive a pay raise.
“Fairytale, as in Disney?”
“As in Nightmare before Christmas, if you’re thinking Disney,” I reply, trying to stifle a laugh. “Katie does have a fascination with the Elizabethan, Edwardian and Victorian eras, she also loves Anastasia, so think Romanoff elegance meets gothic fantasy.”
Darren nods, already mentally crafting a detailed plan. “Got it.”
“Tell it,” I demand. I’m not leaving anything to chance. “What’s the plan for starters? There are no allergies that we’re aware of.”
“Any vegans?”
“Fuck them; Katie is my concern.”
