Page 24 of The Wedding Crush

Quietly, Avery replaces her glass in front of her.

“As a matter of fact, it is.”

“Figures.”

Avery tugs at her sweatshirt sleeves, then stretches the collar to pull it over her head without ruffling a single hair.

Dante shakes his head. “Look, we don’t want to make things worse between you two. Let’s just—”

“No, Stefano’s got so much to say.” Avery laughs as if now I’m not the one checking her out in a thin beige tank that exposes every smooth golden-brown inch of her skin and molds to her round breasts. “Have you ever thought maybe I’d rather spend my life celebrating the moments and breaths and wins and ups and good times? I’ve had my share—still have my share—of hardships. Not that I owe you any explanation. But I don’t want to live in the shadows of grief.”

She stretches, thrusting her chest forward, and a slow smile builds as she watches me watching her now.

I don’t have the heart to tell her there’s lettuce stuck in her teeth.

Dante settles on his chair again and clasps his hands on the table.

“When I thought we were losing the vineyard, it put so much in perspective for me, Stef.” He pauses for a beat. “I don’t want to wait on the right time. It feels right for us and what’s important to our legacy.”

Morgan and Avery return to their seats as well, like they too sense there’s a few more kinks to hash out.

“With the on-site cabins finishing up next month, we thought it would be amazing to be the vineyard’s first wedding,” Morgan adds.

“Our ancestors walked on this land. They ran their fingers through that soil and those ribboning vines. Think of it as—”

Morgan cringes. “Oh, my Lord, please don’t say it.”

Dante laughs.

“Think of it as christening this land.” He shrugs at the three of us chuckling and groaning our disapproval. “Whatever, maybe we’ll do that, too. But to your point, marking a special first like this wouldn’t hurt profits…”

The mood in the room noticeably lifts.

He waggles his eyebrows at me.

“Our guests will fill all the cabins. Then we’ll still be able to help local lodging partners.” Dante is on a roll, appealing to my business brain, and shamelessly, I’m listening. “Winery subscriptions will pick up. With the photos alone, adding them to our brochures and ad copy, wedding packages will be booked out for years.”

Avery snaps her fingers.

“Ooh, and I’ve got a few magazine editor clients, too. Wedding features inVines + Vineyards,Visage,Blissful Bride, andNorthern Living… Look out world, wedding of the century loading.”

I hate that it does indeed appeal to my financial outlook for our conglomerate of companies. We’ve got delis and restaurants to cater. We work with affiliate lodging partners to sleep overflow guests. We could feature the private label wines.

Frankly, a Fortemani wedding would be marketing we can’t buy.

But couldn’t it still be in a year? Or two?

“I’m in.” Avery throws up spirit fingers before she bumps my shoulder with hers.

Her expression screams,you know you want to celebrate, too.

I do.

“Listen, I agree. It all sounds amazing, and although I’ll be honored to be your best man, you know where I stand on a longer engagement, and I think it’s rushed.” I shrug. “Vendors need time. Florists, photographers, bakeries—they need more than two and a half months to pull something like this off.”

It’s my final appeal to reason.

Which Morgan shoots down in one breath flat.

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