Ten
Eva sat on the edge of Maddy and Adam’s sofa, a printed copy of the greenhouse contract resting on the coffee table between her and the happy couple.
It was her first time meeting the groom.
He hadn’t said much so far. This was standard.
Eva would put eight out of ten grooms as pretty checked out.
He’d probably look alright in a suit, so that was positive.
He was in good shape, had a decent head of hair and a proper jawline. He’d photograph acceptably.
The living room was nice in that impersonal way. Cream and beige, clean and tidy. A strange lack of books, though, given what Eva knew Maddy’s main passion in life was. Perhaps they were kept elsewhere.
Maddy sat opposite her in an armchair, holding onto her knees. Adam hovered near the fireplace, as though undecided whether this was a formal meeting or something he could casually lean through.
‘You’ve sent save-the-dates?’ she asked.
Maddy nodded. ‘They should be arriving now.’
Eva noddy. ‘Then we’ll need to secure the venue quickly if it’s the place you’re happy with.’
‘It did feel good there,’ Maddy admitted.
Eva allowed the faintest hint of warmth into her expression. She withdrew the contract and laid it flat on the coffee table, smoothing the pages.
‘Deposits are non-refundable after forty-eight hours,’ she said evenly.
Adam finally crossed the room and sat on the arm of the sofa, close enough to lean into the conversation without fully committing to it.
‘If it’s what Maddy wants,’ he said easily.
Maddy looked relieved. She reached for the pen Eva had placed beside the contract.
Adam cleared his throat. Eva all but flinched. She had a bad feeling about what was coming. And it was dead on the money.
‘Just one thing,’ he said. ‘I was on the phone with Dad this morning. And he did have one thought.’
Maddy’s hand paused mid-reach.
‘He just wondered if the greenhouse might be a bit trendy,’ Adam continued. ‘Maybe a bit too… now?’
The word hung in the room like a squeaky fart.
‘Now?’ Maddy laughed lightly, but she looked baffled. ‘It is now. Now is now. Isn’t it?’
‘Exactly,’ Adam said, as if that confirmed the concern. ‘In twenty years, we might look back and think, wow. That was very 2020s.’
Eva folded her hands in her lap. Great. Worst-case scenario groom. Acted like an easy-breezy cover girl while everyone did the work of organisation, only to come in at the last second and piss on the bonfire with a horribly timed, ‘Well, actually…’
‘But the save the dates are out there,’ Maddy said, a little firmer this time.
‘Once save-the-dates circulate,’ Eva said calmly, ‘guests tend to expect that they have saved the correct date.’
Adam shrugged. ‘It doesn’t have the venue on it, though, right?’
‘If you don’t sign today, you really might lose it,’ Eva told him plainly.
Adam leaned back slightly, balancing himself against the sofa cushion. ‘If it goes, it goes. Maybe that’s a sign.’
Maddy’s fingers tightened around the pen.
Eva watched the small swallow. The polite composure reassembling itself.
But Adam? Adam didn’t see.
‘I just don’t want us rushing because we mailed a few cards. We can send more, right?’ Adam continued. He turned to Maddy. ‘But obviously, we’d get you a little sponge next time.’
Maddy looked down. ‘Mmm.’
Eva didn’t understand that comment, and she wasn’t going to ask because she was rather focused on how much Adam was pissing her off.
‘Dad thinks traditional photographs are better long term. Ballrooms. Stone houses. Something timeless.’
‘Do you think that?’ Eva asked him, her tone neutral but direct.
Adam didn’t let her answer. ‘I just think we should be sure.’
Maddy nodded. ‘We can take more time.’
It was so accommodating that it made Eva want to scream.
But, as she told herself over and over (and over), she was not a marriage counsellor. She organised weddings. And it was time to deliver some home truths on that topic.
‘You need to know that I don’t work for the venues,’ Eva said evenly. ‘I work for you. I’m giving you the facts. It will go if you don’t move.’
Adam smiled, unfazed. ‘We’ll risk it.’
Maddy looked down at the contract. Her name was typed neatly at the bottom, awaiting her signature.
‘I liked how it felt,’ Maddy said quietly.
Adam softened his tone. ‘And if it’s meant to be, it’ll still be there when we’ve taken a bit more time.’
Eva looked at Adam. ‘We currently have a forty-eight-hour hold which started yesterday when I called them, after Maddy gave me the go-ahead,’ she said. ‘It’s strict. And when it expires tomorrow, Ralph will call anyone who has expressed interest in that date.’
‘Let’s sleep on it,’ Adam said, satisfied with the compromise.
Maddy nodded. ‘Yes. Let’s.’
Eva gathered the contract back into her folder.
‘Email me before the hold expires,’ she said.
She stood. Maddy stood too, walking her to the door while Adam remained by the sofa, already checking something on his phone.
At the doorway, Maddy paused. ‘It’s a shame.’
‘Maybe he’ll change his mind?’ Eva asked.
‘Mmm, maybe,’ Maddy said. There was no hope in her eyes at all.
Eva smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. ‘I hope so.’
Eva stepped out into the cool afternoon air. She had firmly decided that Maddy was marrying someone who didn’t deserve her. But no one knew better than she that beautiful, sensitive, intelligent women often did that. It was a terrible fact of life.
It might have been a bit of a quick verdict based on one conversation, she knew. It didn’t have anything to do with jealousy, though. No. Not Eva. Eva was a professional. She left that shit at the door.