Chapter Twenty-NineMicah
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Micah
I think…I think the night is a success.
Honestly, I’m almost afraid to blink for fear of all of this going away and revealing the disaster that I’ve created over the last few weeks.
But each time I turn around to check on some aspect of the party, everything is running smoothly.
The food tastes incredible, the string quartet is phenomenal, Bonnie, Derek, and Houston are a huge hit, and people are talking.
Talking about how excited they are to book a weekend at the lodge and unplug from the world. Talking about planning weddings and girls’ trips and anniversaries. Talking about fond memories of staying here in the past and how they’re so glad the lodge has been restored to its former glory.
“You did it, Half-pint.” Debbie wraps her arm around me, joining me as I watch everyone mingle and genuinely enjoy themselves. “Your mama would be so proud of you.”
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away. “She is proud,” I counter. I swear I can feel her, enjoying this party as much as she enjoyed her wedding. I wish my dad could see this.
Right as I think that, someone clears his throat behind me, and my heart swells when I turn to see who. “Daddy!” I rush toward him and leap into his arms, even though I know he’s not really a hugger. He still holds me tight, just as he always does. “What are you doing here?”
“Debbie called me. And Houston. Chad too. Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
I pull myself tighter into his arms. “I thought about it so many times, but I didn’t want to bring up sad memories. You loved Mom so much.”
“Oh, Sweet Pea. I’ll always love your mom, but I could never be sad about remembering her. Did you see our names in the guest book?”
My heart does a sort of flip in my chest. “What?”
He looks behind him, where we laid out the old guest book for people to look through. I didn’t even think to check… Taking my hand, Dad leads me to the book and points to his name right next to my mom’s. She originally wrote Briggs, but then she crossed it out and changed it to Taylor.
I touch her elegant script that is so different from my bubbly handwriting. “I wanted to make tonight special for her.”
Dad wraps his arm around me. “You did, Sweet Pea.”
“I can’t believe you drove all the way here.
” Now I’m definitely crying, which is a problem because Bonnie insisted on letting me borrow her makeup artist, and there is no way I’m letting tears destroy the masterpiece that is my face.
I need to look into what a makeup artist costs because I have never looked or felt better than I do tonight.
Dad chuckles and helps me fan my face, and then he looks around, his expression growing soft. He’s not an emotional man, and most people find him intimidating. But there’s a big softy underneath his gruff exterior, and I know he’s feeling a lot right now as he takes in the lodge.
“It’s just as warm as I remember,” he says reverently. “I wanted to get married in Sun City, but your mother insisted on somewhere out of the way, where our families could join together.”
“Lloyd!” Houston appears from the crowd with a wide smile, and he and my dad share a manly pat on the back that they insist is a hug. “I’m glad you made it. Micah did an incredible job, didn’t she?”
“That company you work for really knows how to throw a party,” Dad agrees.
I wince. “Actually, I quit yesterday.”
“What?” Dad and Houston speak together, and then Houston says, “Is that why you made me work? Which wasn’t in my contract, by the way.”
I punch his arm. “Your contract also said you didn’t have to appear until seven thirty, so anything that happened before that is on you.”
“Ah, I didn’t actually read it.”
Dad sighs. “You signed a contract without reading it? Son, how many times do I have to tell you not to be an idiot?”
Despite the insult, Houston beams. I think he loves when my dad calls him son because his own dad is kind of the worst. And currently in prison. “I’ll learn eventually,” he says, and then he scurries off to follow a passing caterer with a tray of potato bites.
The crowd shifts, and I spot Fischer skirting around a group of excited women, carefully avoiding touching them as he moves despite the attention they’re giving him. I’ve barely seen him tonight because we’ve both been making sure the party goes smoothly, but I love his timing right now.
“Fischer, I want you to meet my dad.”
He stumbles to a halt, choking on a bite of meat pie as he drops the rest of it. Though he glances down at the fallen food—Dad does too—he must decide that it is less important than greeting my father.
“Mr. Taylor,” he rasps as he approaches, still slightly choking. He holds out a trembling hand. “Fischer Bradley.”
“Bradley Properties,” Dad guesses. Though he hesitates, he takes Fischer’s hand in a firm handshake.
Fischer swallows. “Yes and no. My brother owns Bradley Properties, and I worked for him until recently.”
“And now?”
I gently slap Dad’s arm, warning him that he’s being too intimidating with his sharp questions. Fischer was already clearly terrified, and I don’t need my dad making it worse.
Still, Fischer stands tall as he glances at me and then says, “Now I’m in love with your daughter, and I plan to help her start her own event company.”
I gasp. “You do?”
Nodding, he looks at my dad as if calculating something, and then he takes my hand. “If you want to. Clearly you are capable of making magic happen, and I can help with the business side.”
“Do you understand business?” Dad asks with narrowed eyes.
“Yes, sir. I earned an MBA from Columbia and was third in my class.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I knew he went to Columbia, but I missed the part about an MBA and being so highly ranked. “Look at you, Mr. Smarty-pants.”
Though I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate being called “Smarty-pants” in front of my father, Fischer still smiles at me. “I am nothing compared to you,” he murmurs. “None of this would have happened without you.”
The quartet begins a song by Frank Sinatra, one that prompts several people to start dancing. Dad nudges my arm. “Dance with him,” he suggests. “I’m going to catch up with Debbie and try to convince her to move to Colorado, and Houston wanted to talk to me about something.”
Though a part of me wants to fill my dad in on all the things that have happened recently, Fischer’s outstretched hand wins.
He pulls me in, cradling me against his chest as we sway to the popular love song.
A moment later, Fischer starts softly singing the words, and his smooth voice soaks through my skin into my soul.
“You can sing?” I ask breathlessly.
He chuckles but keeps singing about how beautiful I look, letting the words wash over me as he tucks our clasped hands against his chest.
“Really, though,” he says eventually. “I am in awe of you, Micah Taylor.”
My body warms, both from his words and from the way he holds me close. “You can thank Bonnie’s makeup artist. She’s basically a wizard.”
“Nope. Your beauty is all you, from the inside out. And I was serious about helping you start your own event company if you want it. You could do incredible things.”
I pause our dance, gazing up at him and trying to understand how we got here.
A few weeks ago, I was still begging Lila to let me plan events, and Fischer didn’t trust me with a calendar, let alone the fate of his career.
I was desperately searching for love, all the while unaware of it building right under my nose.
Reaching up, I brush his jaw and marvel at the way he smiles so easily now. “I love this smile,” I say. “I love your faith in me. I love you .”
I’ve wanted to say those words—to anyone—for so long, and they’re so much easier to say than I expected.
What I don’t expect is the tear that slips down Fischer’s cheek, and for a moment my heart constricts, thinking he’s about to let me down easy.
But then he leans down and kisses me gently, not in the way I know he wants to but in a way that’s appropriate for the middle of a party.
That doesn’t make me treasure his kiss any less because he says so much with it.
“I love you,” he whispers against my mouth. “And I will follow you to the ends of the earth if you ask me to.”
I grin. “So dramatic. Have you been taking a page out of some of my romance books?”
“Yes.”
I blink. I’m not sure if he’s joking or not. “Wait, really?”
Then he laughs, and the sound rings out across the lobby. “Yes, I really have. I may never be a romance reader, but I can see the value in those stories now. And…” He ducks his head. “And I wouldn’t mind if you read again on the drive back home tomorrow. I’d like to know how the story ends.”
I bite my lip, loving the way his eyes track the movement. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been more attracted to you, Fischer Bradley.”
He growls, which ups my attraction limit significantly, and then he captures my mouth for a kiss that is far less tame than the last one.
We have a party to finish, and plenty of cleanup to follow.
And probably a lot of drama to deal with when Lila and Grant find out what we’ve done.
But for now, I just want to kiss the man I love and enjoy this dream I’ve fallen into.