Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
BEAUTY IN NEUTRAL
When Knox, Jacques and I wandered down to the wedding committee meeting (I’d taken off the shoes, I’d kept the hat), it appeared as if it was a full-blown OSRA (Oasis Square Residents’ Association) meeting.
Most of the residents were there, for starters.
There was also the normal theater style setting of chairs purloined from the courtyard and those that usually sat outside people’s apartments, which was the usual setup for OSRA.
And there was a long table on which were five big thick books resting in a line.
There was also a podium.
On the front of the podium was emblazoned a circular gold rimmed seal. It had Oasis Square curled at the top, a palm tree and saguaro in the middle with some ripples and lines that clearly indicated the corner of a pool, and Residents’ Association curved at the bottom.
That podium was new, all of it, including the seal, something I’d never seen.
It was also unsurprising.
Bill and Zach took their tenure as co-presidents seriously.
“Yoo-hoo,” Tod, our visiting committee member, hurried up to us.
Important note: Tod had planned all the Rock Chicks’ weddings. I’d seen pictures. He had the touch. As such, he’d horned in on Alexis and Jacob’s wedding because he apparently couldn’t get enough of spreading joy and giving brides and grooms the best memories he could manage.
He and his husband Stevie were also really cool dudes (obviously).
“Hey, Tod,” I greeted.
“Hey, man,” Knox greeted.
“Yes, yes,” Tod did not greet.
He bent, picked up Jacques, gave him a coo and a nuzzle, which Jacques returned (not the coo, just the nuzzle) then he took my hand and dragged me to the book table, still holding Jacques.
Knox followed us.
Tod opened a book, saying, “You’re only just official, and I’ve been wrapped up in Alexis and Jacob’s day of joy, so I’m warning you, don’t be alarmed at what you see. These are very preliminary.”
Holy shit.
Raye told me about this. So did Willow. And Jessie. Also Harlow.
It was my official wedding scrapbook.
Holy shit!
Knox was standing right behind me, so close, his chest was brushing my shoulder.
A shoulder he was looking over to see the scrapbook.
This was not good.
Nothing made a man run faster than a woman talking wedding, essentially, in week three of their relationship (I know, we were deeper in it, but you get me).
So, sure. It was Tod talking wedding and not me.
Samesies.
Alarmingly, Tod kept doing that talking.
“With your coloring, which is superb, and your vibe, which is very close to Raye’s, I’m having trouble locking down a color selection and overall theme that will be new and unique. But don’t worry. Once we get Alexis and Jacob through their day, I’ll be able to concentrate better.”
The scrapbook was open, and Knox was still staring at it.
When Tod quit talking, Knox’s deep voice sounded.
“The one with the lace plates mixed with the one with the candles, and all that fluffy grass and wicker shit.”
My mouth dropped open.
I turned to see Tod now looking down at the scrapbook (Jacques, incidentally, was too), tapping his finger to his lips, through which he said, “I’m seeing it.”
I shifted my attention to the mood pictures in the book.
Holy shit!
Knox chose perfectly.
My man reached beyond me and turned the page.
Both sides were covered in a dizzying array of fabric swatches.
He then said, “No color. Luna’s aesthetic is pure. Serene. She finds the beauty in neutral.”
HOLY SHIT!
He nailed it.
My guy so totally knew me.
I was gonna cry.
I might even sob.
While I deep breathed, Tod was tugging off any swatch that had the minutest color, tossing them to the courtyard grass, leaving us with creams, beiges, soft tans, the most delicate of peaches and the palest of yellows.
“Like that?” Tod asked Knox.
“That’s it,” Knox declared.
Tod slapped the book closed. “Done.” He looked at me. “Get a cocktail and sit down, girlie. It might be a long night.”
He then sauntered away, taking my dog with him.
I turned to face my guy.
“Uh…”
“You love me?” he asked.
I nodded.
“I love you. So it’s gonna happen.”
There it was.
The tears hit my eyes.
He bent and touched his mouth to mine.
When he moved away, he said, “I’ll get the cocktails.”
He went to get the cocktails.
I sniffed to get a handle on it and Raye came up to me. “Did you see your scrapbook?”
“Knox picked our aesthetic.”
She blinked.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
She reached to grab my hand and squeezed.
She and Cap were determined to enjoy their engagement, so as her bestest bestie, I knew they hadn’t gotten down and dirty with their planning yet.
Still, I asked, “Is Cap interested in helping plan?”
“Anytime I look at my scrapbook or talk to Tod on the phone, Cap gets hyper-focused.”
“So he is.”
“No. He gets hyper-focused on my face to ascertain what I’m excited about. And then he’s all the way down with whatever that is.”
She really got a good one.
And so did I.
Oh shit.
I was losing the fight to hold back the tears.
I gave her hand a squeeze this time.
Her smile was trembly. My return one was too.
She saved us from losing it by saying, “That hat is giving me life.”
“Knox bought it for me. Well, Shirleen did, but Knox asked her to shop for it.”
“Do I want to know?” she asked.
“Do you mean, is it sexual?” I asked back.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
She grinned. “Righteous.”
“Did I miss a vote on the OSRA seal?” I asked.
She turned and looked at the podium. “I think they made an executive decision.”
“I’m not mad about it. It’s boss,” I decreed.
“I concur,” she said.
Zach interrupted this by stepping behind the podium we were gazing at and saying into the microphone (mm-hmm, they didn’t really need it, but they had a microphone), “We’re bringing the Oasis Square Wedding Committee meeting to order. Sit down. We have a lot to get through.”
After we rounded the table to pick up the fabric swatches Tod tossed, Raye and I found seats by Shanti and Willow.
Knox delivered my cocktail then went to go stand with Cap, Eric, Javi, Gabe, Roam, Liam, Brady, Shaw, Lan and Jacob because, we’d learned, badasses didn’t sit during Oasis Square meetings.
Though, it was super sweet all those dudes turned up.
“Right,”—Zach pounded a gavel on the podium (see?
totally took this shit seriously)—“Oasis Square Wedding Committee officially in order. Our first item of business is that Tod wants detailed notes on the current version of wedding scrapbooks from Raye, Jessie, Harlow and Willow before he and Stevie head back to Denver on Sunday.”
Only Raye and Jessie were engaged, but as I’d just learned, this was the way they rolled.
As if to verify that, Zach looked to me. “You have extra time, Luna, but you need to turn your scrapbook into me and Bill by February fifteenth.”
With no choice, and since this weird sitch clearly didn’t freak Knox, I gave Zach a salute.
He looked down to another scrapbook opened on the podium, undoubtedly Alexis and Jacob’s, and muttered into the microphone, “Moving on.”
I sipped my cocktail (one of Jessie’s, a passionfruit martini—on point, on theme and last, delish) and listened as Zach, Bill and Tod tag-teamed in going through Saturday’s schedule in minute detail, then telling us what we already knew about our assignments, addressing at length the emergency protocols, and going back through the schedule in minute detail.
This ended with them handing thick folders to everyone, which had written notes clipped into them about all of what they just spent an hour going over.
Along with this were phone numbers and emails we already had.
This concluded with Bill asking, “Any questions?”
No one had any because we already knew all of this before we even hit the courtyard (outside the emergency protocols, but we could have figured that out).
“Can I say something?” Alexis, sitting up front with Harlow, Jessie, Linda, Sally and Patsy, asked.
“Of course, girlie, get up here,” Bill said.
Alexis got up, went to the podium, Zach leaned in to adjust the microphone for her, and she said, “You guys…”
She stopped talking.
We all sat there.
She opened her mouth and closed it.
We all sat there.
Her face started to get really red.
Jacob prowled to his woman, tucked her to his side, leaned into the microphone and grunted, “Thanks,” then he took her to the table where the cocktails were.
Bill took the podium again.
“Thus, our meeting is adjourned at,”—he looked at his watch—“eight fifty-two.”
“Lord save me,” Martha muttered not quite under her breath from her seat behind us.
(By the way, Jacques was asleep in her lap.)
Bill shot Martha a look and finished up with, “I’ll end by reminding the rental retrieval team they are to report poolside by eight a.m., and the decorations subcommittee are to report, also poolside, no later than nine o’clock Saturday morning.”
He’d already reminded us of that.
Twice.
“With that, to all a good night,” Bill finally ended it.
“At least I got a cocktail out of that waste of time,” Martha said.
When I turned in my chair to face her, she looked at me. “I have a sleeping dog in my lap. And it’s yours. So you can go get me another one.”
“At your service,” I said, got up and went to the cocktail table.
Jessie was mixing fresh ones.
“One for Martha, one for me,” I ordered.
“Gotcha,” she replied. “I see you got your book.”
“Knox picked our color scheme and overall theme,” I told her.
Her face spread into a huge smile.
“Fab,” she replied.
“Is Eric involved in your planning?” I asked curiously.
“Nope,” she said. “He told me to do what I want. He’s getting out of the day what he wants, so he’s all good and doesn’t care how that comes about, just as long as I’m happy with it.”
“Nice,” I said.
“Javi’s totally into ours,” Harlow said, coming to stand beside me.
I turned to her. “You aren’t engaged.”
She shrugged. “It’s fun.”
I bet it was.
I was looking forward to it myself.