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Something I’ve been doing all day.

Focus on the most pressing problem in front of me while mentally triaging the others.

Right now that’s calming Evelyn down.

Thankfully, as Evelyn is very sweet and, I’m sensing, not the type of woman to work herself up into a tizzy all that often—more like someone who remains centered and grounded when things get tough—it doesn’t take much effort.

Definitely not nearly as much as it took to settle Joan after she didn’t like what the makeup artist did with her eyes earlier.

I wasn’t a fan myself, but it shouldn’t have been a Crisis. With a capital C.

It still was.

Luckily, I had my makeup kit.

A full eye wipe-off and then liner, shadow, a spare pair of lashes and volumizing mascara, and Joan was happy.

Which meant I could focus on my next Crisis.

Fixing the flowers—one of the few things that shy, quiet Jenny cares about.

One of the few things she picked herself. Jenny’s mom and dad are more than a bit iron-fisted, much like Oakes, and seem to think their opinions are more important than Jenny’s.

How do I know this?

Because the trio chose filet mignon for the main course when Jenny doesn’t eat red meat, a chocolate cake when she wanted red velvet, and having the ceremony here, at a golf course that is beyond confusing to access, has copious pockets of dead zones for cell coverage and is generally causing lots of people to be running behind.

Jenny, I learned today (we’ve spent a lot of time together as I put out the Crises) wanted a lakefront evening affair with just their families and closest friends. She’s an only child with two overbearing parents and prefers quiet and letting Oakes be the star of show.

Apparently, her preferences didn’t—don’t—matter.

Because her parents got the location they wanted and Oakes is getting the huge party he wanted, his friends as his groomsmen, important strangers attending, and a bridal party that’s made up of Oakes’s friends’ wives and girlfriends, all who have zero interest in Jenny and making sure her wedding is perfect, and much more interest in partying as hard as they can for as long as they can, since all their expenses are paid for.

And Jenny…well Jenny gets to deal.

So, yeah, no family in the wedding party.

But at least it’s on both sides so that Evelyn and Hugo won’t think it’s odd the rest of the Ambrose brothers aren’t standing up next to Oakes.

I’m sure they’ve both cottoned on to the fact that the Ambrose household isn’t exactly…sparkles and sunshine, but no need to highlight that fact.

“Violet? Can you hear me?”

I snap to attention at Evelyn’s voice. So much for focus, huh?

But, as I mentioned, it’s been a day.

Still, I manage to get together enough to tell her, “The photographer was late and she’s still working on the individual shots of the groomsmen and bridal party, so the ceremony has been pushed back an hour. You can still make it.”

“Oh, good,” she says, relief heavy in the words. “The map says we’ll be there in thirty-eight minutes.”

“Then you have plenty of time,” I say. “So just relax, drive safe, and I’m looking forward to chatting more at the reception.”

Because according to the seating chart that was damaged in transit and I spent a good forty-five minutes with creative glue, sticker, and tape placement to get to stay upright she’s sitting right next to me.

“What shoes are you wearing today?” she asks before I can hang up.

Something we discovered yesterday?