Epilogue
XAVIER
"Dr. Blackwell," I answer automatically, because six years of emergency calls have conditioned me to assume that early morning phone calls mean someone is dying.
"Xavier, thank God." It's Miranda Castellano, the bride whose wedding is scheduled for this Saturday, and her voice carries the particular brand of panic that means I'm about to add "crisis management" to my list of Tuesday morning activities.
"Our caterer just called. Their entire kitchen staff has food poisoning.
Four days before my wedding. FOUR DAYS."
I sit up in bed, my brain immediately shifting into emergency mode while Logan and Griffin continue sleeping beside me. Savannah's at her early morning yoga class, which means I'm flying solo on this particular disaster.
"Okay," I say, reaching for the notebook I keep on my nightstand for exactly these situations. "Tell me everything. What caterer, how many guests, what kind of menu, and do we have any advance prep that's already been completed?"
"Bella Vista Catering. Two hundred guests. They were doing passed hors d'oeuvres, a seated dinner with three entrée options, and a dessert station. The prep was supposed to start today, but their head chef is in the hospital, and apparently half their staff called in sick overnight."
I'm already running through our emergency vendor contact list in my head. Miranda's wedding is one of our larger events this month, with a guest list that includes some fairly prominent local families. This is exactly the kind of crisis that can make or break a venue's reputation.
"Miranda, I need you to take a deep breath," I tell her, while simultaneously texting Logan and Griffin to let them know we have a situation. "This is exactly why we have contingency plans. Give me two hours, and I'll call you back with solutions."
"Two hours? Xavier, my wedding is in four days, and I don't have any food!"
"You will have food. Excellent food. Food that will make your guests forget this crisis ever happened." I'm already pulling up contacts on my phone, cross-referencing availability with our preferred vendor list. "Trust me. This is what we do."
I end the call and immediately start working the phones.
The first three catering companies I call are either booked solid or can't handle the scale of what we need on four days' notice. The fourth, Romano's Fine Dining, has availability but wants to charge triple their normal rate for the rush job.
That's when I remember Maria Santos.
Maria ran the catering operation at the Riverside Resort before it closed last year. She's been doing private chef work since then, but she's got the skills, the connections, and the kind of flexible schedule that might make magic happen.
"Xavier!" Her voice is warm when she answers, which is a good sign. "How are the newlyweds? I heard you four finally figured out what the rest of us knew years ago."
"We're disgustingly happy," I confirm, which is both true and irrelevant to the current crisis. "Maria, I need a miracle. Are you available for a consultation this morning?"
Two hours later, I'm standing in our venue's commercial kitchen with Maria, Miranda, and a spread of potential menu options that somehow looks more impressive than what Bella Vista had originally planned.
"The key," Maria explains to Miranda while plating samples of her signature dishes, "is working with what's locally available and what can be prepared efficiently without sacrificing quality.
Instead of three entrée options that require different cooking methods, we do two options that complement each other. "
She presents a plate that looks like something from a food magazine.
"Pan-seared salmon with herb butter and roasted vegetables, or beef tenderloin with red wine reduction and garlic mashed potatoes.
Both can be prepared in large quantities, both photograph beautifully, and both appeal to different dietary preferences. "
Miranda takes a bite of the salmon and her entire posture relaxes. "This is incredible. Better than what we were going to get from Bella Vista."
"The appetizers are where we get creative," Maria continues, moving to the next course.
"Instead of passing hors d'oeuvres that require servers moving through the crowd, we set up stations.
Artisan cheese and charcuterie, seafood bar with oysters and shrimp, and a carving station with herb-crusted prime rib. "
I watch Miranda taste each option, seeing her stress transform into excitement as she realizes this crisis might actually result in an upgrade.
"What about dessert?" she asks.
"Individual chocolate lava cakes with vanilla bean ice cream, plus a selection of artisan pastries," Maria says. "Elegant, unforgettable, and much more impressive than a basic dessert station."
"Can you really pull all this off in four days?" Miranda asks, and I can hear the hope creeping into her voice.
"I've already called my network," Maria confirms. "The salmon is coming from Johnson's Market, the beef from Peterson's Butcher Shop, and the vegetables from Riverside Farms. My sous chef from the resort is available to assist, plus I know three line cooks who can handle the plating and station management. "
I watch Miranda's face transform as she realizes not only is her wedding saved, it's going to be better than she originally planned.
"How much?" she asks, and I can see her stealing herself for the kind of premium pricing that comes with emergency services.
"Same price as Bella Vista," Maria says simply. "Plus a small rush fee for the four-day timeline, but nothing that should break your budget."
Miranda actually tears up. "Maria, you're saving my life. My entire wedding."
"That's what we do," I say, feeling that familiar satisfaction that comes from turning disaster into success. "Crisis management and magic-making."
After Miranda leaves, floating on the relief of crisis averted and upgrade achieved, Maria and I sit in the kitchen going over logistics.
"This is quite an operation you've built here," she observes, looking around the space that Griffin renovated and Logan optimized for maximum efficiency. "When I heard you were opening a venue, I'll admit I wondered how three alphas and an omega would handle the stress of the wedding business."
"Better than we expected," I admit. "We each bring different strengths.
Savannah's creative vision and client relations.
Griffin handles all the construction and maintenance issues.
Both Logan and I work on the business on the side.
We still are committed to our regular jobs.
Logan manages logistics and emergency response.
I handle the business side – contracts, insurance, vendor relationships, financial planning. "
"And it works?"
"Most of the time. We've learned to play to our strengths and cover each other's weaknesses." I pull out my phone to show her our current booking calendar. "We're booked solid through next spring, with a waiting list that's getting longer every month."
After working out the details with Maria, I spend the rest of the morning updating our emergency vendor database and disaster management procedures. By the time Savannah returns from yoga, I've got everything organized and a contract drafted for Maria.
"How was class?" I ask, watching her settle into the kitchen chair across from me with her post-workout smoothie.
"Blissful. An entire hour of focusing on nothing but breathing and not falling over during warrior pose." She takes a sip of her smoothie and notices my laptop and scattered paperwork. "Please tell me that's not crisis management before nine AM."
"Miranda Castellano's caterer had a mass food poisoning incident. The entire kitchen staff left, four days before her wedding."
Savannah's eyes widened. "The Castellano wedding? Two hundred guests, half the county invited, photography spread for the style magazine?"
"That's the one."
"Please tell me you solved it and I'm not about to spend my Tuesday morning making emergency phone calls to every caterer in three states."
"Solved. Maria Santos is taking over the catering, upgrading the menu, and charging the same price as the original vendor plus a small rush fee."
Savannah stares at me for a moment, then shakes her head with the kind of admiration that makes my chest warm. "You're magical. Seriously. How do you just... fix impossible problems like it's routine maintenance?"
"Planning, contacts, and the advantage of having built relationships with people who are good at their jobs." I close my laptop and focus on her completely. "Plus the knowledge that every crisis we handle well builds our reputation for handling the next crisis that comes along."
We discuss potential business expansion and hiring additional staff until the front door opens and Logan and Griffin's have come back to the house.
"Crisis management meeting?" Griffin calls out as they enter the kitchen.
"Strategy session," I correct. "I solved the crisis, now we're planning world domination."
Logan raises an eyebrow. "What kind of world domination?"
"The kind that involves a second venue location and hiring additional staff to handle our increasing market demand," Savannah says, grinning at their expressions.
"I need to grab some files from the office," I tell them, standing. "Griff, can you help me carry out the expansion research?"
Griffin follows me down the hall, and once we're out of earshot, I turn to him. "Thanks for backing up the kitchen modifications yesterday. I know the electrical work was more complicated than we originally planned."
"No problem," he says, then pauses. "Though I noticed you called me Griff just now."
"Sorry, I know you prefer Griff in business settings…"
"Actually," he interrupts, stepping closer, "I like it when you call me Griffin. Just... don't tell anyone, okay? I've got a reputation to maintain."
The admission catches me off guard. Griffin, who insists everyone use his full name, who corrects people automatically, wants me to use the nickname he usually hates.
"Your secret's safe," I promise, reaching up to cup his face.
He leans into the touch, then closes the distance between us. The kiss is soft and sweet, nothing like the heated claims from months ago, but somehow just as significant. It tastes like coffee and contentment, like the quiet intimacy that's grown between all of us.
"Come on," he murmurs against my lips. "Let's go plan our empire."
We return to the kitchen with the files, and I catch Savannah's knowing smile. Logan just shakes his head with amusement.
"Are we ready for that?" Griffin asks, settling into the chair beside me.
"Are we ready to stay small-scale forever?" I counter. "Because that's essentially our choice. We can maintain our current size and risk stagnation, or we can grow strategically and increase our impact."
"Impact," Logan repeats thoughtfully. "You mean helping more couples create their perfect celebrations?"
"That's exactly what I mean. Right now, we can handle maybe seventy-five weddings per year. With a second location and additional staff, we could potentially handle a hundred and fifty events annually."
"Twice as many perfect days," Savannah says softly.
“I agree,” Griffin adds with a grin.
“Sure,” Logan concludes.
I look around the table at these three incredible people who've helped me build something I never imagined wanting, let alone achieving. Six months ago, we were four individuals trying to figure out how to coexist. Now we're a family, a business, a team that makes magic happen for other people.
"So we're really doing this?" I ask. "Research, planning, potentially expanding into a second location?"
"We're really doing this," Savannah confirms.
"All of us, together," Griffin adds.
"Whatever comes next," Logan says.
I open my laptop and start a new document titled "Expansion Planning - Phase One." Because that's what we do now. We make plans, we solve problems, and we turn dreams into reality.
For ourselves, and for every couple who trusts us to make their impossible day perfect.