The Wedding Crush

Chapter Nineteen

Stefano

Monday morning is like déjà vu. Avery and I are back to ChatVideo. I’m in Healdsburg for in-person appointments with two of our wine distributor partners, and she’s in the city, working on events, shockingly unrelated to Dante and Morgan’s wedding. Just like that first time, the Dream Team is gathering to talk progress and logistics for this final meeting.

“Hey, thanks for logging in early. Sorry I’m late.” Avery laughs just as her screen border illuminates a bright blue, and her smiling face appears. “This day has been pure chaos.”

“Oh yeah?”

Again, she’s effortlessly, undeniably beautiful in a pale purple blouse. Her light pink blush is dusted over her smooth golden skin. Her bright brown gaze hasn’t yet fallen on me, but as always, she commands my attention.

I’m so open for this woman.

“My Lord, the consult I had with that red-dress bride?” Avery’s brown eyes widen. “Total debacle. The bridesmaid dresses are two grand, and she’s not footing the bill. Like, what?”

“That’s steep.”

I minimize the Quarterly Trends and Consumer Health Index reports I’d been reviewing for our next family business meeting, then turn on Gallery view, so my square is centered next to Avery’s on the screen.

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

I watch her pull out her giant pink planner and drop it on her desk with a loud thud, and I can’t get over how much has changed over so little time. Our first meeting was mid-July. We’re just breaking into September, and we’re two completely different people.

I’m still learning and climbing, reaching for the next rung. Except, it feels less about career, and more about life. Those decades of management and winemaking experience, marriage even, their collective purpose seems like it was to inform the new life I’m building. Hoping to build. I still know the vast, fascinating history of my family’s vineyard grounds. I was still that guy who was top of my class in business school. I still read to learn the details of processes and people. And, strangely, those twelve years of marriage, I don’t regret them.

They’ve all shaped me into a man who pays attention, values family, and loves with my entire being.

Most of all, I know I’ll never give up on my dream of love and making a family—no matter the blend.

I said I’d never rush in.

But looking at this woman in full-color resolution. Studying her beautiful features, her heart always on display. I feel like she’s what it was all for.

I’d never change anything I’ve been through because those lived experiences led me to the woman who gets under my skin and reminds me that I’m a man with fire burning in my loins.

She’s the best plot twist.

She’s my silver lining.

“Long story short, she might not just be down two bridesmaids, throwing off her perfectly balanced wedding party. After this, she’s probably down two decades-long friendships.”

“That’s no bueno,” I say, using her words from the carnival, and loving that it earns me a low musical laugh.

Under my desk, I stretch out my legs, getting comfortable.

“Exactly.” Her smile widens. “Just like Tilt-A-Whirl and cotton candy, asking your friends to fork out cash for expensive dresses that they certainly will not shorten and wear again, is no bueno.”

Silence blankets the virtual room for a beat.

Then Avery squares her body to the camera, a smile teetering on her full pink lips. “What?”

I shake my head like it’s no big deal. “Nothing, I just love you so much.”

“Awww, don’t say that when I can’t be with you right now.”

A low chuckle rumbles over me. “Sorry, let’s just get started. We’re finalizing details for the bachelor and bachelorette parties, right? Anything else on your agenda?”

Avery pauses. “Plus, finalizing the guest list. And a few other things…” She breaks off, and I get the sense she’s holding back.

I straighten.

“What are these other things you want to discuss?”

Her cheeks flush a faint pink.

“There’s something bothering you,” I say, stating the obvious. My heart stutters when her face falls. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

She hazards a look at me.

“Sorry, it’s just…I was going to save the personal stuff for last.”

My throat constricts.

Fire swarms over my neck and ears, spreading to my cheeks. Briefly, I consider letting it go. Whatever it is, we can talk about it when she’s ready.

Then my head swims with worst-case scenarios of her ending this relationship before we’ve even gotten a chance to get started, and I know I won’t be able to concentrate, not knowing.

“Do you think we can talk about it now, then recap the party and guest list details last?”

She clears her throat.

My pulse sprints.

What is it?

Like she did once before, Avery stares at me like I’m a Rorschach inkblot, unsure what she’s looking at, and a familiar idea sparks.

Swallowing, I glance at my phone on the desk beside my laptop. “You know, someone brilliant once got to the bottom of our issues with an icebreaker. So, I’ve reserved ten minutes for us to work through whatever is on your mind.”

Avery cracks a smile.

“Great minds, right?” I tilt my head. “Ask anything on our hearts as fast and as honest as possible.”

“Right.”

Out of objections, and at my mercy, she sucks in a lungful of air, letting me take the lead.

On the screen, I tap over to the timer extension, and set it for ten minutes.

“The truth shall set you free,” I quip. “I’ll go first. Ready?”

She lifts her chin and nods.

Avery’s fiery brown eyes flutter wide open as we stare into each other’s digital boxes.

Then I start the timer, and fire off the first question. “What’s really bothering you?”

Avery’s mouth presses into a flat line. She straightens, posture ramrod straight. “Actually, I was thinking we should tell our friends and families about us.”

That’s what this is about?

She blinks up to meet my stare.

The tension in my chest loosens slightly. “Um, okay. How about after the wedding?” I suggest. “I really don’t want to overshadow their big day.”

“Do you really think they don’t already know?” she counters, her tone taking on an impatient lilt.

Instinctually, I know they do.

Dante and I have been talking in broad strokes and hypotheticals since the tux appointment. If he’s put two and two together, I’ve got to believe he’s talking about us with Morgan, who keeps nothing from the Sister Circle—including my sister as an honorary member. By the rules of the telephone game, Mother knows, therefore, so does her entire Gossip Set.

Only, Avery and I haven’t confirmed, which means it won’t be public yet.

No one wants false information tracked back to them.

“Of course, I believe they have suspicions.” I wait a beat. “Remember when you said you didn’t love the way I inserted myself, my opinions, and my personal baggage into Morgan and Dante’s relationship? This feels like the same thing, but with us.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Not exactly, but in the same vein. Do we really want to undermine what we’ve built so far by putting it out there to be judged before we let is grow stronger?” I query.

Avery shakes her head.

“Listen, I love that it’s just us,” I add.

“Me too.” She smiles.

“For that matter, I don’t welcome everyone’s opinions about us. The mere idea that anyone would think what we have is some reactionary rebound because my ex moved on… I hate even the idea of it. And I know I shouldn’t think about the optics, but I want to love you without limits or outside speculation, if that makes sense.”

Avery seems to consider this.

But then her shoulders tense and her expression smooths.

“Is that what we are, a rebound?”

“Of course not.” I feel like an idiot.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that outing ourselves to everyone is only Avery’s surface-level concern, and there’s something so much deeper bothering her. Possibly, this question was a test, and I’ve failed, so I’ve lost access to the real concern.

“Jesus, no. I hate the fact that word is even on your tongue. I’m in love with you, Avery.” I scrub a hand over my face, groaning. “What we have… I’ve never felt passion and purpose so fierce. Please don’t ever doubt that,” I bite out.

“Okay,” she says softly.

Please believe me.

But as she worries her lips, I know I’ve put my foot in my mouth with this. Instead of taking her lead, I had to go and bring up Carina, planting doubt in Avery’s mind about us.

My God.

“When did you imagine telling everyone?” I ask, circling back. I’m futilely trying to get this runaway train back on the track.

Avery starts to speak again, then she seems to reconsider, and I feel compelled to fill the silence.

“We’ve got the bachelor and bachelorette parties coming up, then it’s the wedding. What’s a couple more weeks?” I reason.

She lowers her chin briefly, and says, “No, it’s fine. We can wait.”

My pulse throbs.

The next five minutes pass in a blur of wedding-related questions about the upcoming parties.

I feel her guards raising, and suddenly, I’m wading through every interaction we’ve shared trying to determine where I went wrong.

When the timer goes off, her agenda immediately appears on the screen.

“Now, let’s get down to details,” she says, and I know she’s disengaging from the conversation.

I’ve made her uncertain about us, and there’s nothing more I can say.

The muscles at my jaw harden and jut out at the sides as Morgan and Dante join the meeting.

There’s no time to catch my bearings.

For the rest of the meeting, I only chime in as needed. I listen to Avery go on about how we’ve successfully gotten the guest list down to fifty-two people. Not the goal, but close enough. Then she goes on to confirm the times and dates for the bachelor’s Paintball and Pints.

After she provides Morgan with the pickup time for the party bus to Bramoso, she zips through a few more housekeeping items, including their Mediterranean cruise honeymoon itinerary and flight, confirming vows are finished (or in progress, in Dante’s case), my cousin Enzo’s arrival for his officiant duties, and marriage license pickup.

All the while, it’s on the tip of my tongue to confess my love for Avery to them.

But then she says, “Anything else you want to add, Stefano?”

A humorless laugh hurls out of me.

My head spins, and I’m dying to ask more questions. What the hell was that whiplash moment back there? How can you sit here talking about parties and marriage licenses like nothing happened? Why do I feel like, with a single question, I’ve sent us reeling backward? What aren’t you telling me?

Instead, I mumble under my breath, “No, I’m good. No questions here.”

“Okay, great.” Avery makes a note in her pink book. Her work done, Avery stops sharing her screen. After informing us she’s got an appointment at the top of the hour, she says her see-you-laters, and ends the meeting for us all.

I’m still staring at my computer wallpaper when my phone pings with a text notification. Hoping it’s from Avery, my attention snaps to the screen where there’s a message from Dante.

What in the hell did you do?