Chapter 9
PIPER
The Falcon Hotel's rooftop terrace sprawled with sophisticated luxury beneath a sky of blue as clear as Zach's eyes.
Glass barriers edged the perimeter, offering unobstructed views of the city skyline, while strings of light bulbs crisscrossed overhead, waiting to illuminate the space after dark.
Potted olive trees and lavender plants created natural dividers throughout the space, their subtle fragrance mingling beautifully with the late-afternoon air.
Piper moved toward the bar area, clipboard in hand, mentally cataloging every detail. Once the sun set, the space would transform from elegant to magical.
"So?" Zach asked as they took in the scene. "What do we think?"
Before Piper could respond, the rooftop doors swung open again.
"Sorry we're late," Drake announced, striding onto the outdoor area with a confidence that somehow made the space seem smaller. "Babushka wasn't ready."
His arm wrapped around Anna as her eyes went wide, taking in the view.
Behind them followed Tess, tapping furiously on her phone, and Babushka, who carried what appeared to be a large picnic basket.
A blonde woman who must've been Zach's mom slipped through last. She was the same height as Anna and had a solid motherly presence about her.
Gentle, even. She wore a comfy cardigan over a matching blouse, had florist's hands with neat crescent nails, and the kind of calm that settled a room.
"Ceremonial bread." Babushka proclaimed, holding the basket aloft. "Ve must test acoustics vith traditional Dvornakov sourdough."
"What kind of sourdough tests acoustics?" Piper asked.
"Borodinsky," Zach said as though that was an actual answer.
Anna pursed her lips. "Babushka, we talked about this..."
"I could eat." Drake raised his hand.
"You can always eat," Anna muttered, but the fondness in her voice was unmistakable.
"This is gorgeous," Anna and Zach's mom—Diana, her name was Diana—said. "It's perfection."
They did quick introductions and, while Piper braced herself for Diana to say or do something, well, Dvornakov-esque, she didn't. The woman seemed totally normal.
"This space has several advantages," Piper began, stepping right into presentation mode. "It accommodates up to two hundred guests with the current configuration, though we could increase capacity with some adjustments to the seating arrangement."
Tess glanced up quickly from her phone. "Plan for at least two hundred to be safe. You figure with teammates, plus-ones, coaches, and staff we're already nudging that number. We can still design the aesthetic to seem intimate in photos."
"We agreed it would be intimate," Anna said, her tone tempered.
"Intimate is relative," Tess said without missing a beat. "In celebrity terms, two hundred is practically eloping."
Babushka snorted. "Elopement means bad luck. Vedding needs family vitnesses. Many, many vitnesses."
Piper caught the subtle tightening of Anna's shoulders and the way Drake automatically moved his hand up and down her back in response.
Honestly, the whole dynamic with this group was fascinating: equal parts earnest and dramatic.
"We can layer lounges and vignettes, so it photographs more intimately," Piper suggested.
"Piper's right," Diana assured. "We can make two hundred feel like eighty with the right clusters. I've squeezed receptions into tighter greenhouses. It's a great idea."
Piper couldn't help it: she preened under Diana's praise.
"The afternoon sun creates shadows that might be problematic," Tess said, slicing through the moment. "I'm thinking we add a light scrim on the west side or shift the ceremony by twenty minutes. Easy enough to solve."
"Perhaps we should discuss the pros and cons?
" Piper suggested, attempting to steer the conversation.
"The location offers incredible views and natural light for photography.
The indoor ballroom connected to it gives us flexibility in case of weather issues.
And I've talked to the hotel about bringing in your personal caterer.
There are fees, of course, but nothing out of the ordinary. "
"Food very important," Babushka nodded. "No skimpy American portions."
People said a lot about American portions, but calling them skimpy was not generally the issue.
"What about the cons?" Drake asked, his focus surprisingly sharp for someone who'd been eyeing Babushka's breadbasket since she arrived.
"Aside from the lighting issue, privacy could be a problem," Piper admitted. "The dance floor is visible from some of the higher floors of the neighboring buildings."
"I think we can make that work in our favor. We'll want to engineer at least one dance moment that invites teammates onto the floor," Tess suggested. "Those clips perform well on social channels. And having the neighbors help with the filming from their windows isn't a bad angle at all."
"Perhaps we should get a feel for the space," Zach suggested, moving away from the group toward the edge of the venue. "Everyone spread out and see how it flows."
A good suggestion. They all dispersed.
Drake led Anna toward the far corner, speaking quietly. Tess wandered off to take light measurements with an app on her phone. Babushka gravitated to the bar area with her basket.
Zach drifted toward Piper, casually sitting on the edge of a table. "So, on a scale of one to homicidal, how are you handling the committee approach to wedding planning?"
"I'm fine," Piper said automatically, then caught his knowing look. "Fine. Seven out of ten. But I'm managing."
"For what it's worth, you're doing great."
Something about the way he said that made her want to puff out her chest and grin. Instead, she glanced over to Anna, as she traced the pattern on a marble tabletop.
"It's a good sign when the bride can envision herself in the space," Piper said, tilting her head in that direction.
"Is that wedding planner wisdom or Piper intuition?" Zach asked.
"Both," she admitted. "I think this space is a good fit. Special without being intimidating."
"Like a good first date venue," Zach mused, looking out at the mountains. "Not too formal, great view, natural conversation starters."
"I wouldn't know," Piper said dryly. "My dating history mostly features chain restaurants and one memorable outing to a monster truck rally."
Zach's eyes widened. "Monster trucks? That doesn't seem very... you."
"It wasn't. He thought it would be 'quirky.'" She made finger quotes on the last word.
Zach's laugh was sincere. "Was it?"
Piper shook her head. "Nope."
Zach adopted an exaggerated seriousness as he puffed out his chest. "What are we looking for here exactly? Flower capacity? Champagne logistics? Optimal positions for the release of Babushka's definitely-not-happening pigeon-doves?"
Piper practically had to smother her smile. "Actually, I'm thinking about sight lines, sun angles at different times of day, and whether the electrical capacity can handle both a DJ and proper lighting so Tess can get the after-dark pictures she wants of the dance floor."
"Of course you are," Zach said, but there was no mocking in his tone, just a tender appreciation that made her stomach flutter.
"We have an audience," she murmured, looking toward Anna and Drake again.
Zach glanced over his shoulder. "Ah. The happy couple seems quite invested in our conversation."
"They probably think we're discussing wedding details."
"Or they're watching their wedding planner hitting it off with the bride's charming brother," Zach suggested, eyes twinkling.
"We are not 'hitting it off,'" Piper protested, though her traitorous cheeks warmed again. "We're having a very professional discussion."
"Very professional," he agreed solemnly. "So, professionally, what do you think of their relationship?"
The abrupt change of subject caught Piper off guard. "Anna and Drake?"
"Yeah. You've seen a lot of couples in your line of work, right? Even if you avoid weddings."
Piper gazed across the terrace where Drake was now carefully tucking a strand of hair behind Anna's ear, his expression tender. "They seem... real," she admitted. "The way they look at each other when they think no one's watching. It's not performative."
"But that doesn't mean it will last," Zach observed, studying her carefully.
"No. It doesn't."
"No faith in happily ever after?"
Piper shrugged. "Statistics don't lie."
"Statistics don't account for everything," Zach countered. "Sometimes it's about choice. Every day choosing each other, even when it sucks."
The conviction in his voice was surprisingly moving.
"Anna likes it," Zach said with confidence. "I can tell. She keeps looking at the sunset and smiling that little secret smile she gets when she's imagining possibilities."
"You know her well."
"She's my sister. I've been reading her facial expressions since I was in diapers."
The fondness in his voice made Piper curious. "Were you close growing up?"
"Always, though we're pretty different. Anna's the steady one. Predictable career, stable relationship. I'm more..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.
"Unpredictable?" Piper suggested.
"Experimental," he corrected as his lips curved up. "I like trying new things, finding unconventional solutions. It makes me a good designer but sometimes a frustrating brother."
"And yet she clearly adores you."
"The feeling's mutual," Zach said simply. "Which is why I want this wedding to be what she wants, not what's best for team publicity or team tradition."
The sincerity in his voice touched something in Piper.
"We'll make it work," Piper found herself promising, despite the committee approach.
"I believe you," Zach said, his voice dropping slightly as he moved closer. "You're pretty convincing when you get that determined look."