Chapter 14 Charlotte
Charlotte
“Champagne, miss?”
The shop owner at Chiffon they truly are the best. A bride’s fairytale and a planner’s dream.
“This is lovely,” I say as I run my fingers over some of the burgundy and wine colors.
“Yes,” she agrees with me. “I think with winter weddings, it truly is beautiful to use warm colors for contrast. Chances are, with the wedding being at a resort, there will be snow. White and red are just gorgeous.”
“I also like this, though,” I say, pointing at the blush. “Softer might be better. It’ll keep the focus on the bride.”
“Another beautiful choice,” she says, and I smile, not even needing champagne to feel bubbly inside.
I love this part of the job, especially when I get to have a lot of say in the decisions.
Helping a bride pull together her dream wedding is one thing.
Putting the whole thing together by myself is another. It’s art.
When footsteps come from around the corner, accompanied by a familiar voice, my blissful morning comes to a grinding halt.
“Are these slacks supposed to fit like this, or should I size up?”
I spin around in my chair to find none other than Gavin standing behind me. The only thing he’s wearing is slacks. No shirt. No shoes. Just a pair of black slacks that are noticeably…um…tight.
“I think you might benefit from a larger size, yes,” the woman says. Clearing her throat, she heads down the hallway. She’s flustered. Amateur.
“Hello Charlotte,” he says with his usual smirk.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Getting fitted for a suit,” he says.
“Today?” I ask, and his eyes dart around.
“Yes? I mean, Holly asked if I’d do it today so we can base the groomsmen around my tux, so…here I am.”
“Of course,” I mutter, going back to my swatches. I should have known better than to assume that ignoring Gavin would make him go away.
“Whatcha’ got there?” he asks, sauntering over. He braces his hands on the table, bending over, his abs flexing next to me as he hovers around me to look.
“Color swatches for the–” I stop when he leans further, closer. “Bridesmaids and…can you not?” I ask.
“Not what?”
“Why are you half-naked?” I snap.
“Part of trying on clothes is removing the ones you are currently wearing,” he says, and my eyes involuntarily scan his bare skin before my cheeks flush. Gavin grins.
“So, which color are we going for?” he asks.
“We aren’t going for any color. I am picking out swatches for Holly to choose from, and you will be no part of this process,” I tell him. I refocus my attention on the blush and yellow.
“I’m thinking green,” he says.
“What?” I ask. Gavin takes my question as an invitation to sit down at the table. “Aren’t you supposed to be trying on more pants? Ones that fit?”
“She’s distracted,” he says, and I glance back to see the shop owner on the phone.
Of course.
“We aren’t doing green,” I say.
“Why not?” he asks, pulling the board of swatches closer to him.
I click my tongue and pull them back. “Because green won’t look good against the mountains.”
“Why not? They’re covered in green pines,” he says, moving it in his direction again.
“Exactly,” I say, tugging it again. “We need contrast.”
“So do a lighter green,” he says, leaning back in his chair and giving me a full view of his eight, erm, twelve pack.
“Green isn’t…it doesn’t work,” I say.
“Did Holly tell you that?” he asks.
“No. I’m telling you that,” I say, blinking multiple times like it’ll help erase the visions of his body from my memory. I think it’s just making them clearer. His abs are more defined.
“I like this one,” he says, pointing at a green that shouldn’t even be on the board. Heck, it shouldn’t even be a color at all.
“You’re joking,” I chuckle and roll my eyes.
“No, I’m serious. It’s cool. It’s called olive,” he smiles.
“It’s pea green,” I say in disgust.
“No. It’s olive.”
“It’s gross. It’s going to be very difficult to match another color to. It’s going to be difficult to match anything in the wedding to,” I say.
“You make it sound like difficult is a bad thing,” he says, his eyes flashing up to mine. I ignore whatever that was supposed to mean.
“We’re doing blush or rose, but not olive,” I say with absolution.
“Rose and olive,” he says.
“No, just rose,” I say.
“For the men, too?” He fights back. “I thought weddings usually had two colors.”
“They do, but olive is not going to be one of them.”
“I think that should be up to Holly and Ben, don’t you?” Gavin’s stubborn gaze meets mine, but I match it. For a moment it’s a staring contest until Holly and Ben walk in.
“Well, look at you two!” Holly says, bending down to give me a hug.
“Dad, where’s your shirt?” Ben asks with a funny smile. His eyes meet mine for a split second before he looks away.
“We’re working on that,” Gavin waves it off. “Maybe you can help us with something.”
“Did you figure out the color scheme?” Holly asks.
“Well, we’ve narrowed it down to two colors, but we need your opinion,” Gavin says. I shake my head with a smile.
“No, actually we were still deciding. I mean, I was deciding on the best colors for the wedding. I have some thoughts based on the scenery and the natural hues in the mountains.”
“We were thinking about these two,” Gavin cuts me off and hands the two swatches to Holly. The blush and mustard-green olive look all wrong together.
“These two?” she asks.
“Together?” Ben asks.
“Gavin thought the olive was interesting. I was in the middle of putting together a spreadsheet of pinks and burgundies and–”
“I love it,” Holly says, and I stop.
“You…what?” I ask.
“I love it,” she laughs. “It’s so retro and vintage. It’s perfect! Ben, don’t you love it?” she asks.
“I love anything you love,” he says, and she plants a kiss on his cheek before grinning at us.
“You two are the best. Amazing. From now on, I want both of you to work together on all the details of the wedding!”
My jaw unhinges; she can’t be serious.
“I…I usually work alone,” I say.
“But now you don’t have to,” Holly says. “It was a lot for you to take on considering how uninvolved Benny and I are and with the wedding being super soon. Now you don’t have so much pressure!”
“It’s nothing, really,” I insist.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Ben says. “We’ll still pay you the same. Right dad?”
My eyes drag over from Benny to shirtless Gavin who is grinning as usual because why wouldn’t he be? “Of course. Penny for penny.”
“Perfect!” Holly squeals, hugging me again. Then her phone goes off. “Oh! That’s my sister! Brunch time!”
And with that, they’re gone, leaving me and Gavin alone with two clashing color swatches and a thousand broken dreams.