Chapter 17
Silas
“How are your weddings plans going, Silas?” Carol Ann asked during our Monday staff meeting. “The Rafferty/Tate wedding is next week, isn’t it? The Kennedy wedding is only a week after. That’s a lot to handle.”
I straightened in my seat. “Everything is going great.”
Heidi snorted.
I shot her a glare as Carol Ann raised an eyebrow in question.
“We hit a snag on the Kennedy-Larkin rehearsal dinner, but Noel Grisold has agreed to save my bacon. We’ve already printed corrected invitations. It’s all under control.”
Carol Ann frowned. “What happened there?”
“I dropped the ball by not—”
Heidi blew a raspberry. “Wrong. The Grand View messed up, not you.”
“Not this again.” Carol Ann sighed. “I thought they’d gotten their ducks in a row.” She pursed her lips. “I think it’s about time I call and put them on notice. We’ll start looking for other venues.”
“What venues?” I said. “They know we’ve got limited options.”
“Well, maybe I’ll bring up the Grisold farm,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“An acclaimed chef and a gorgeous setting? Once they get those renovations done to accommodate larger parties, they’ll be an easy choice for our couples.
Grand View needs to step up if they don’t want to be left out in the cold. ”
Heidi smirked. “Remind me not to get on your wrong side.”
I hesitated. “Just go easy on Nadia. It’s not her fault. She tries to cover for Eric, but he’s the owner’s nephew. You know how it is.”
Carol Ann grimaced. “I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes, but we’ve given them all the grace we can. Don’t worry, Silas. She’ll understand. If anything, it may give her the leverage she needs to make a real change.”
I’d just have to trust Carol Ann on that. This was her business, and I wasn’t going to tell her how to run it.
My phone vibrated on the table. I flipped it over to check and saw Darling Dish on the phone display.
“I should take this real quick. It’s the caterer for both my weddings.”
“Go ahead. Heidi call fill me in on anything we haven’t covered.”
I picked up my phone and stood. “This is Silas.”
“Silas, hi. This is Marissa. Sorry to bother you, but I need to have a quick pow-wow about the menu for the Kennedy wedding.”
“Okay, I thought we were all set on that.”
“Well, there’s been a bit of confusion on our end. We’ve got the menu you and Miss Kennedy signed off on, but Mrs. Kennedy just showed up with some requests she is quite emphatic about.”
I groaned. “No.”
“Yep. I’m afraid we’ve got a Momzilla situation over here.”
“Damn it. Okay. Keep her calm. I’ll be right there.”
“Hurry,” Marissa said, “she looks ready to blow her top.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Every wedding party had one. If it wasn’t a Momzilla, it was a Bridezilla or a maid of honor from hell. There was always one rotten apple who wanted to spoil the bunch because they thought they knew best.
I might be the wedding planner, but I didn’t kid myself. Mrs. Kennedy wouldn’t listen to me. I needed Caitlyn or Branson to step in. I called Caitlyn on my way to the car, but there was no answer.
Damn. I hadn’t had to call Branson directly. I really should have gotten his number. I sent a text to Bryson.
Can you have Branson call me. We’ve got a wedding 911.
I hopped into my car and drove the few blocks to Darling Dish. I had just parked when my phone dinged with a reply text.
Bryson:
What is a wedding 911? Do I want to know?
Silas:
Just send him to Darling Dish ASAP.
I went inside, the scent of sugar and a savory sauce making my mouth water instantly. Molly Kennedy stood in front of the counter, face red. “I don’t appreciate you not respecting my role in this wedding,” she was saying. “I’m footing half the bill—”
“Wow, it smells great in here!” I exclaimed, infusing my voice with as much cheer as possible. The quicker I defused Molly’s temper, the better.
She paused, turning. “Silas! I’m glad you’re here. Will you please tell these people I’ve been part of the wedding planning process all along?”
I had to tread carefully. I wanted to appease Molly without empowering her. I smiled at Marissa, who looked like she was hanging by a thread of patience. Behind her, one of her young staffers, Corey, stood chewing his nails, eyes flicking between Molly and me.
“Molly has joined us for a few planning sessions,” I said with a polite smile. “We’ve finalized all the catering decisions, though.”
“No, I know,” Molly said. “It’s just that Caitlyn showed me the menu yesterday, and it really needs some improvement.”
“The menu is set.”
“But surely there’s room for a few tweaks,” Molly said in a cajoling tone. “My daughter has never hosted a formal dinner, and I don’t want her to be embarrassed.”
“I understand your point of view, but we really can’t change it now.”
The door chimed behind me. Molly’s gaze darted up. “Branson, dear, you didn’t have to come over here. Honestly! I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to make a few small changes.”
Behind her, Corey was shaking his head emphatically. Yeah, so the changes weren’t small.
I turned to speak to Branson and froze. That was not Branson. The curl of his lips, the set of his shoulders, and the way his gaze darted down my body. Yeah, there was no mistaking Bryson.
My mouth dropped open, but I swallowed my protest. Molly wouldn’t listen to Bryson any more than me. She wouldn’t view him as having any authority. Caitlyn’s groom had a better shot.
I cleared my throat. “Branson, thanks for coming by. I was just telling Mrs. Kennedy that while we value her input, of course, it’s just too late to modify the menu.”
Bryson nodded. “Even if we could, Caitlyn loves the menu plan.” His eyes flicked past me to Molly. “She doesn’t want any changes.”
Molly huffed. “They haven’t even started to make it yet! They can certainly change the menu. That’s ridiculous.”
“We’ve already ordered all the ingredients,” Marissa said in an apologetic voice. “Our policy requires—”
“Screw your policy,” Molly said. “Branson, I know you mean well, but Caitlyn doesn’t have the experience to know what a formal meal calls for. I’m trying to help you both.”
“That’s why we have Silas,” Bryson said firmly. “He’s got all the experience. Silas, do you think the menu will embarrass Caitlyn and Bra—er, me?”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t let that happen.” I turned to Molly. “Everyone has different tastes, Mrs. Kennedy. I’m sure your suggestions are lovely. It’s too late to make changes, but I could really use your help with the seating chart revisions.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue and paused. “The seating chart? What’s the problem?”
“Well, Caitlyn wasn’t sure about sitting Percy next to the Rhodes couple. What do you think?”
She laughed. “Oh, dear, no. We can’t do that.
Percy next to Clark.” She chortled. “Although, it might be fun to see the fireworks.” She shook her head.
“Not that I want to disrupt your wedding reception with unneeded drama, Branson. Goodness. You do need my help, don’t you?
Silas! You know Percy went on a disastrous date with Clark a few years ago. ”
“That’s right. I’d nearly forgotten.”
She approached me, forgetting about the catering menu. Or perhaps I’d just given her a graceful way to lose the argument. “I better go over that chart and make sure there are no other oversights.” She glanced at Bryson. “But only if you and Caitlyn are okay with me butting in?”
“You never butt in,” Bryson said graciously. “Of course we’d welcome the help.”
She beamed at us. “Lovely. Shall we do it now?”
“I’ve actually got another appointment in a few minutes,” I said. “How about tomorrow? Ten a.m.?”
She nodded. “I can make that work.” She patted my arm. “You’ve been a godsend, Silas. I don’t think these kids could manage any of this without you.”
“We really couldn’t,” Bryson said, eyes finding mine. “I know I’d be lost without Silas.”
Molly let herself out the door, and Marissa sagged against the counter. “Thank you, Silas—and Branson. Sorry we had to bother you with this.”
Bryson waved a hand. “No problem. Silas, can I see you outside for a minute?”
The promise in his gaze sent a wave of heat through me. My pulse spiked at the memory of our last run-in. “Sure.” I turned to Marissa. “All good?”
She nodded. “We’ll stick to the original menu. Thank you.”
“All in a day’s work,” I said with a laugh, turning to follow Bryson out onto the sidewalk.
He walked me to my car, silent, despite asking me to come outside. “What’s up, Bryson? Did you want to talk about something?”
His gaze sharpened. “You really can always tell us apart, huh?”
“I guess so. Branson doesn’t look at me like you do.”
He swiped a tongue over his bottom lip, gaze drifting down my form and back up. “Yeah? How’s that?”
“Like you want to invite me back to your place,” I suggested. “I did tell Molly I had an appointment. I’d hate to be a liar.”
Heat flared in his eyes. “So, I’m the appointment?”
“Well, you are the best man,” I said teasingly. “I should make sure you know all the proper etiquette.”
He looked at me long and hard, as if searching for an answer in my eyes.
I faltered. “Unless this is a bad time? I can just—”
“No. No, it’s a perfect time. It’s always a perfect time for you.” He cupped my face and kissed me with an intensity that made my head spin. “I’ll meet you there.”