Chapter 11
Silas
“You’re awfully quiet today, Silas.”
My mother couldn’t really frown anymore. Too many Botox injections. But she did grimace on video, which I interpreted as concern.
“I’m fine. Just thinking about work.”
Soon, I’d be meeting up with Branson and Caitlyn to tour the hotel where their reception was scheduled.
Caitlyn and her mother had already seen it, of course, but Branson had been busy tying up business matters.
I had asked the photographer to meet us there, as well, to scout out some good shooting locations with the couple.
But it was difficult to think about Branson and Caitlyn without thinking about Bryson and what he’d said to me.
“I’m glad I had that night to know you, the real you. And I really, sincerely hope I get to see that guy again.”
I didn’t like the idea that I was being fake.
I valued authenticity. Always had. But maybe I kept my guard up more than I even realized.
Especially with men I desired. I thought I wanted to keep things casual, to just have some fun.
I’d been telling my friends exactly that for years, and yet…
Bryson had broken through that pretty lie in one night.
“Silas, honey, there’s more to life than work,” my mother said. “I hardly ever get to see you. Tell me how you are. Has Lula driven you crazy yet?”
I laughed. My mother had been horrified by my move to Granville. She viewed it as the backwoods sort of place she’d rather not set foot in. She and Lula might be related, but they weren’t anything alike. My grandmother had married into money, and Mom had grown up quite the little debutante.
She’d tried to make me in her image, and in some ways she’d succeeded. I’d used those manners in my role as a wedding planner. I was a good dresser, and I’d grown up around galas and other formal events that served me well now. But there was a fakeness to that social circle that I’d never liked.
Precisely why Bryson’s comment had gotten to me.
I didn’t want to think I was my mother’s son, but well, I was my mother’s son.
“Aunt Lula is great,” I said. “She’s a little wacky, but her heart is always in the right place.”
“As opposed to my heart?”
I sighed. “Mama, no. I wasn’t comparing you.”
“Good, because you know it breaks my heart that you had to run all the way to Nebraska after that scum broke your heart. When are you going to come home?”
This was an old refrain.
“This is my home now,” I said firmly. “I’ve got a career, friends, a life.”
Her eyes told me she was not happy even as her face stayed perfectly smooth. “I understand. You’re happier there. Thousands of miles from me.”
I sighed and smiled. “You know I miss our lunches.”
“You miss my gossip.”
I laughed. “You know I do. Spill the tea!”
“Well, Geneva and Marco got caught in bed by Marco’s wife, and then they had the audacity to show up to the hospital’s fundraising gala together!”
“What about Marco’s marriage?”
She threw up her hands. “Who knows? Geneva has been angling to get her hooks into him for years. I guess she finally succeeded…”
Mom was happily diverted, and I was out of the hot seat for the moment. The topic would surface again. It always did. But I had no plans to leave Granville. As different as it was from everything I knew before I moved here, it had been exactly what I needed.
A fresh start. A chance to pretend Michael had never existed. That I had never been that jilted, humiliated groom.
A chance to be the best version of me.
I wasn’t being fake. I was simply protecting myself. Bryson—and my mother—would just have to deal with it.
The Grand View Hotel was the tallest building downtown, built in the early twenties to accommodate travelers passing through on their way to Omaha. It originally contained the bank and drugstore, as well. Now, it mostly relied on formal events and its highly rated restaurant to keep it thriving.
Granville didn’t have a lot of formal event spaces, so it stayed pretty booked up, too.
Nadia, the event coordinator, met me in the lobby. “Silas, the wedding business must be good. Didn’t we just do this?”
I chuckled. “It hasn’t been long, has it?”
Nadia was a beautiful woman with jet-black hair pulled back in a neat bun. She wore a gorgeous emerald dress. She told me once that she goes straight home and changes into pajamas after work. Constantly upholding the “upscale look” at the hotel must be exhausting.
I could relate, since my work also required a certain level of professional attire. The difference being that I’d grown up dressing this way, and I was a man, so I got to wear comfortable shoes.
The front entrance opened, and Caitlyn and Branson entered. Behind them, the photographer, Nico, entered, and behind him—
Shit. Bryson was here too.
My smile of greeting froze, and I forced myself not to drop it, gaze meeting his as Caitlyn hugged me hello.
“I hope you don’t mind that I brought our best man along,” she said. “But it looks like you have a plus one, too?”
I blanked on what she meant, then realized she was referring to Nico. He was a gorgeous Italian man with hair just starting to silver and piercing dark eyes. By all accounts, he was much more my type, but I was having difficulty looking away from Bryson.
I cleared my throat and gestured to Nico. “This is the wedding photographer I told you about. He’s going to walk you through some plans for photos and take some test shots so that on your wedding day they’ll be perfect.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Caitlyn turned to Branson with a grin. “You can’t avoid taking photos with me this time!”
“Can’t Bryson just stand in for me?” he joked weakly. “He has a better smile.”
Caitlyn shook her head. “No one in the world has a better smile than you.”
I really hoped those two could go the distance. I’d planned weddings for a lot of couples that didn’t make it past year one. But Caitlyn and Branson really loved each other.
“I don’t know,” Bryson said. “I can think of another smile that’s pretty amazing.”
My gaze flicked to him in surprise, and I realized he was watching me smile at Branson and Caitlyn.
I turned sharply to Nadia. “Let’s get this tour started, shall we?”
“Yes, of course. Follow me.”
We trailed after Nadia as she headed for the banquet hall where the reception would be held. As luck would have it, Bryson fell into step beside me.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m here,” he said quietly.
“I guess that depends on why you’re here.”
“Not to push,” he said quickly. “I’m the best man, and Caitlyn wanted me to come along in case Branson…”
He trailed off, as if uncertain what to say.
I smirked. “Needs you to stand in for him?”
He laughed. “No. God no. I hate taking photos too.”
“Not photogenic?”
He shrugged. “More like, too restless. I hate standing still and putting on a fake expression. I prefer candid photos that capture real emotion.”
There were those words again. Fake. Real. Was that comment aimed at me?
Nico overheard. “I take a range of candid photos during the reception, as well. Not everyone photographs well in posed settings. But I will do my best to put the wedding party at ease and make it fun.”
“Nico does amazing work,” I added. “We’ve done a lot of weddings together.”
Nico sent me a flirty look. “Some of my favorite weddings.”
We reached the banquet hall and entered, spreading out as we did. Bryson stuck close to me, I noticed.
“What was that?” he muttered. “You and Nico?”
“Ancient history.”
“Someone should tell him that,” he grumbled.
Wow. Was Bryson actually jealous even after I’d said nothing could happen with us? I’d hooked up with Nico after a few weddings, but it had always been casual for both of us.
I should probably be annoyed by Bryson’s reaction, but the silly flutters in my stomach said otherwise. It was nice to have someone care about me that much.
“As you can see, we’ve got enough seating for four hundred guests without a dance floor, or three hundred with the dance floor. Do you have your guest list finalized yet?”
“Almost,” Caitlyn said. “I want us to have a wedding dance, so—”
“You do?” Branson said, voice a little panicked. “I don’t exactly know how to dance, babe.”
“One dance as a married couple,” Caitlyn said, looking up at him pleadingly. “Please?”
“Um, okay.” He sounded dubious. A lot of grooms were in the same boat. Boys weren’t typically taught how to dance and so they avoided it. “Is there a place to get a lesson or something? I don’t want to embarrass you.”
“I can arrange something for you two,” I said.
Caitlyn whirled toward me. “Could you, please? That would be great.”
“Consider it done.”
“You’re the best.” She smiled coyly. “Maybe we should have Bryson take those lessons too? He might want to dance with someone at the reception.”
The woman was fooling no one, but I wasn’t taking the bait.
“That’s up to you. It’d be nice if the best man could dance with a few members of the wedding party.”
Nadia went over a few more details of the reception plan, including where the catered meal would be laid out. The hotel had a restaurant, but it left its large events up to catering services.
“What about the rehearsal dinner?” Branson asked. “Can we see where that’s happening, too?”
Nadia looked nonplussed. “What do you mean?”
“Aren’t we having it here too?” he asked.
“In the restaurant,” I clarified. “We booked the Grand Bistro.”
Nadia checked her phone, already shaking her head. “I don’t have anything here. We’ve already got a private party booked there the night before your wedding. It’s been on the schedule since last year.”
“But we booked that, didn’t we, Silas? I remember talking about it when I came on the tour with my mother.”
I was already going through my calendar. “That’s what I’ve got here.” I glimpsed the note I’d made beneath it. Shit. Eric had penciled us in, and he was notoriously bad about mixing up dates.
“Eric took the reservation,” I said, glancing up at her. “I’m sorry. I meant to follow up with you.”
“No, that’s not your responsibility. We’ve made the mistake.” She turned to Caitlyn and Branson. “I’m so sorry, my dears. This is unforgivable, really. We’re going to discount your fee to account for this. You deserve much better service than this.”
“That’s nice of you, but that doesn’t really solve our problem,” Branson said. “Where are we going to have our rehearsal dinner?”
Everyone turned to me, eyes full of worry. This was a shitty situation, but this was where I made my money as a wedding planner.
“We’re going to find you a beautiful space for your rehearsal dinner.”
“But there’s only two weeks—”
“Let me worry about that,” I said. “It’s why you hired me. I solve your problems so that you can enjoy your wedding, remember?”
Caitlyn nodded, but Branson didn’t look appeased.
“We trusted you with this, and here we are,” he said. “How do we know that won’t happen again?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but Bryson beat me to it.
“Come on, man. This isn’t Silas’s fault. He’s offering to make it right, even though it’s not his mistake.”
His reaction thawed my defenses a little. How was I supposed to resist a guy who stood up for me, damn it?
“Bryson’s right,” Caitlyn added. “Silas has never steered me wrong.”
Branson sighed. “Sorry. I was just caught off-guard, and I want everything to be perfect for Cait.”
“Of course you do,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’ve got connections. I will find you an alternative that is just as beautiful. Just leave it in my hands.”
“Okay,” Branson said, still not sounding totally sure.
Nico chose that moment to intervene. “Come, let me show you one of my favorite spots to take photos. It’s on the rooftop.”
“Oh, that sounds fun,” Caitlyn said.
“Yes, it’s very romantic,” Nico said as he led them toward the door. “With your wedding’s timing, I think we can catch the sun setting behind you. It’ll be gorgeous.”
I hung back to talk to Nadia while Nico took the lead.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “This really has to be addressed with Eric.”
“He’s a good guy, just a little disorganized.”
“Mm. I know. We’re going to have to figure out a solution to these mixups. It’s just not a good look for the hotel to make these mistakes.”
“Not a great look for either of us, is it?” I said. “But we’ll make it up to them.”
She smiled. “Yes, we certainly will. I’ll upgrade them to the deluxe package.”
“That’s a nice gesture. Thank you.”
We headed into the hall, Nadia breaking off to return to her office. Bryson was waiting by the elevators. I paused a few feet from him.
“You didn’t need to wait for me.”
“I wanted to,” he said. “I’m sorry Branson was short with you.”
“Weddings are stressful.” I punched the button to call the elevator. “I’ve heard far worse. Usually from the bride or her mother.”
“Caitlyn is really great. My brother is lucky.”
I smiled faintly. “Yeah. They make a good couple.”
He nodded. “They do. I’d love to have something like that one day. Someone just on the same wavelength, you know? A real partner.”
“As opposed to a fake one?”
The elevator doors opened with a ding and I stepped inside. It was empty, unfortunately, meaning a trip alone with Bryson.
I could sense the tension gathering in the small space as he joined me. I hit the 3, which would take us to the rooftop bar level of the hotel.
“Did I hit a nerve?” Bryson asked. “I just meant a partner who will be there for you. Not fake, as in...”
“Fake like me?”
His eyes widened. “I don’t think you’re fake, Silas.”
“You said you got to see the real me on that date. Meaning I’ve been fake the rest of the time. Right?”
“No.” He grasped my shoulders, eyes meeting mine. “Of course not, Silas. I meant that you were hiding your true feelings from me. I don’t think that makes you fake at all. I just…I wish—”
The look in his eyes shifted. I felt the spark of a coming lightning strike. He was going to kiss me again.
I wasn’t sure I had the strength to stop him, either. His eyes were so intent I felt naked. More than naked. I felt transparent. See-through. Like he could read every detail of my life on my skin.
It was incredibly exposing—but also so tempting—to finally be seen by someone.
“Silas,” he murmured, an undeniable rasp of desire in his voice.
He cupped my face and leaned in just as the doors opened with a ding, and a whole group of people stood chattering right outside the doors.
Just like that, the tension broke. I sucked in a breath of air, wondering what the hell had gotten into me. This wasn’t who I was. I didn’t swoon for handsome men. I made them swoon for me.
I pulled away and stepped outside, back into Wedding Planner Silas mode. Bryson followed, quietly. He didn’t push. Didn’t demand that I admit I wanted him to kiss me. He let me go.
I wasn’t sure which was worse.