Johanna shook her head. The feud between the brothers was still a mystery.
Bianca shifted her eyes to meet her gaze. “There’s also a list of guests we need strategically separated because apparently several former relationships are attending.”
Johanna stared at her. “This sounds less like wedding planning and more like hostage negotiation.”
“You'll only be helping until we get through the vendor selection process.”
“How temporary?”
Bianca’s silence told the truth.
“Oh no.”
“Mary Johanna.” Bianca clasped both hands dramatically beneath her chin. “If you love me at all—”
“That’s manipulative.”
“And effective.”
Unfortunately, yes. Because despite the madness, Johanna loved this energy. The laughter. The movement. The feeling that life was constantly happening around her.
The Beaumonts were emotionally exhausting, but they were also warm in a way that made people want to stay close.
Bianca suddenly snapped her fingers. “Oh! I know exactly who can help you.”
Before Johanna could ask what that meant, Bianca turned toward the ballroom entrance.
“Sinfany!”
A woman rose from one of the ballroom chairs carrying two phones, a leather planner, and the focused expression of somebody personally responsible for keeping rich people from self-destructing.
Sinfany was stunning in that polished, effortless way some women mastered naturally. Warm brown skin glowed beneath the sunlight pouring into the ballroom while soft curls bounced around her shoulders every time she moved. She wore fitted black joggers, pristine white sneakers, and a cropped cream sweater that somehow still looked executive-level expensive.
As she walked toward them, her eyes narrowed. “Please tell me nobody changed the guest list again.”
Across the ballroom, Sedona slowly lowered her eyes.
Bianca pointed accusingly. “Well…”
Sinfany sighed deeply enough to suggest prior suffering. “Of course she did.”
Johanna burst out laughing.
Bianca moved quickly through introductions. “Johanna, this is Sinfany. She keeps Beaumont Motors functioning despite the men attached to it.”
Sinfany extended her hand warmly. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
Bianca continued talking at the speed of panic.
“Johanna’s going to help me survive this wedding.”
Sinfany’s expression softened with sympathy. “Oh, honey.”
Johanna laughed harder.
Bianca hurried off toward a florist carrying something tropical and vaguely threatening while Johanna shook her head.
