Bianca pointed at her so suddenly Johanna nearly jumped. Whenever she called her by her birth name, she knew something was up.
“You're calm. I need calm people around me.”
Johanna folded her arms. “I'm calm because none of this has anything to do with me.”
“Wrong answer.” Bianca shoved a tablet into her hands so quickly Johanna almost dropped it. “Now it does.”
Johanna looked down at the screen and scanned the latest list of wedding updates. Transportation schedules, security coordination, room blocks, and menu revisions all demanded attention at once.
“Bianca—”
“No.” Bianca shook her head. “You’re helping me.”
Johanna looked up slowly. “Was that a request?”
“Absolutely not.”
Across the ballroom, Sedona Beaumont sat surrounded by fabric swatches and floral samples like a glamorous hurricane victim.
“No, see this ivory feels emotionally cold,” Sedona insisted. “I want timeless romance with elevated coastal softness. Debbie I need your help deciding”
Debra Beaumont stared at her in exhausted disbelief. “Girl, I bake cupcakes. Why am I involved in this conversation?”
“Because you understand aesthetics.”
“You know what else I understand?” Debra muttered. “Stress eating and survival.”
Johanna laughed softly.
Nearby, Sage Beaumont paced near the windows with her phone pressed tightly to her ear, while anxiety sharpened every movement.
“No, I understand the deployment schedule changed,” Sagesnapped. “But if Cser misses this wedding, I’m filing complaints with everybody, including Congress.”
Cser, her Army officer boyfriend, was currently deployed, and Sage had spent weeks stressing over whether he'd make it home in time.
Johanna snorted into her coffee.
Bianca pointed across the ballroom. “See what I’m dealing with?”
Honestly, it looked exhausting, but also, strangely beautiful. Because beneath all the noise and theatrics, the Beaumonts genuinely loved each other. Loudly. Fiercely. Inconveniently.
That was the dangerous thing about families like theirs. They made belonging look irresistible.
Johanna had worked for Bianca for nearly six years now, long enough to stop feeling like an outsider and start feeling woven into the fabric of the Beaumont world.
“Okay.” Bianca exhaled sharply. “Here’s what I need.”
Johanna regretted standing still long enough to listen.
“You’ll help coordinate transportation schedules and room assignments. My father and Uncle Richard cannot be on the same floor because they still aren’t speaking.”
Johanna blinked. “They’re still doing that?”
“They’ve been doing that for years.”
“And you still don’t know why?”
Bianca pointed dramatically toward heaven. “At this point only God and Grandma Beaumont in heaven know the answer.”
