Page 55 of Jackal

The men stifled laughs but Daisy shot daggers at them with her eyes and they stopped.

Eagle was behind Lacy and said, “That’s us, ma’am. But you can call me Eagle.”

She jotted a note on the clipboard. “My apologies, sir; that won’t happen again. I’m Angie.”

Lacy waved her off. “It’s fine. It’s like a nickname. But we’re happy to be here. Where do we start?”

Angie took us through the hall that was only partly enclosed. “If we get rain, we have retractable walls over here to close it off. It can make it a bit cramped for the reception, but we always manage to rearrange seating and everyone is comfortable. And if you’ll follow me out here,” she said as she led us outside. Lacy grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

There was a beautiful gazebo adorned with large white flowers and vines. Rows of chairs filled the lawn and a roll of white carpet led between the chairs to the gazebo.

“Are those gardenias?” I asked.

Angie smiled and waved us closer. “They are. We do have an event later, so our team has been busy getting set up. Those were chosen by the bride. I love how aromatic they are.”

I inhaled deeply. “Me, too. We had them back at my parents,but they didn’t bloom very long. I loved when they did and I got in trouble for clipping them. But they made my room smell so good!” Thinking of the flowers reminded me of my parents. Looking around at all the wedding stuff made my heart race.

An arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close. My heart slowed a little, then beat erratically when Jackal asked, “So is this the kind of place you’d like to get married?”

Clearing my throat to reset my wild heartbeat, I said, “I haven’t given much thought to that. I’m sure my mom had it all planned out, so I just had to show up on time.” That was probably true. But she also probably didn’t envision the groom being a long-haired biker.

Angie also mentioned something about tents outside if it became necessary before she waved us back inside to briefly show us the kitchen. We only peeked through the door, since workers were busy and we couldn’t enter without appropriate kitchen gear, like hairnets.

Lacy was practically vibrating as we finished the tour and Angie walked us to a table to go over some specs. “Do you have any questions?”

I asked, “Your site said you had in-house catering and florals. Do you have music and photography as well, or a recommended list of vendors?’

“We have a package that is all inclusive and I can show you the portfolios. Here are the menu options, as well, and the cake choices. If you want to do a tasting, we can accommodate that, but can only have up to four testers. We schedule those weekly on Mondays.”

We all looked over the menus and pictures of various tiered cakes.

“They all look so beautiful,” Lacy said with sparkles in her eyes.

“We’ll book,” Eagle said as he threw his arm over Lacy’s shoulders.

She squealed, turning in his arms and squeezing him. “Thank you, thank you!”

Angie smiled. “Excellent. Let me grab the forms. I’ll be right back.”

I couldn’t help but grin. It was such a cute place and would fit everyone easily. There were options in place in case the weather got bad. My short time in Georgia already showed me a storm could pop up at any minute. We could let them handle all the little pain-in-the-ass tasks and make one payment. It was sort of perfect.

Wandering around the space and taking in the table decorations, I tried to imagine the colors Lacy had chosen. Looking back, Angie was busy with the bride-to-be, so I kept peeking around. The front wall to the building had oversized windows overlooking part of the field surrounding the building.

Walking closer to the windows and leaning down to check out the table settings, I took in the natural light and envisioned my friend’s big day. I was about to touch the flowers on the table to see if they were real or silk when Jackal walked up behind me. “Boo.”

Straightening quickly, I threw my hand to my chest. “Shit. Don’t do that.”

“Are you supposed to be touching that?”

Shrugging, I said, “I just wanted to see if they were real. Those flowers are usually really strong.” They were gardenias as well. Outside they could be smelled before we even made it to the gazebo but the hall didn’t smell like anything other than food.

“Nosy woman,” he said with a chuckle. But he reached down and rubbed his finger and thumb over a petal. “Not a hundred percent sure, but I think they’re fake. They almost feel real, though.”

My eyes shot to Angie, still occupied with the bride-to-be. Nervously, I looked around to be sure nobody else saw usputting our hands all over the decorations for the event when I landed on something–or rather someone–outside.

My breath hitched. I didn’t know who it was, but my senses alerted me they weren’t good. It was a man with a cut, sitting on a bike at the edge of the driveway that led back to the main road.

“Ja–Jackal,” I stammered, reaching behind me. When I didn’t connect with his arm, I took my eyes off the window.

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