Page 6 of The Brit and the Bridesmaid
“I do not have any appointments for a couple of hours, so we can certainly address those items now.” Matthew Carlton could probably sell the stripes off a skunk with those soft eyes and that heart-melting smile. “What is first on your list?”
Yes. Stick to business.Abby laid her papers on the edge of the desk, smoothing them out. “She wants to know if the fountain in the formal garden will be running the day of her wedding.”
Matthew nodded. “It is only ever turned off in the winter.”
Abby snagged a pen from the pencil cup on his desk and wrote “yes” next to the first item.
“Does the conservatory have a sign that says ‘Conservatory?’”
“Do you mean like a placard?” The question clearly confused him. She could appreciate that—it was a strange question.
“I think so. She probably wants to make sure the guests know that there is a conservatory at her wedding. She likes the word.”
Matthew leaned back in his chair, brows drawn. “I honestly cannot remember whether there is a sign or not. Are there any other details we need to go look at? We can check for the placard while walking around the house and grounds.”
Abby scanned her list. “I’m supposed to find out which flowers grow closest to where she’ll be standing for the ceremony. Also, which side of the guest chairs will be in the most shade. And she wants to know if the floor in the ballroom is cherry, oak, or pine.”
“It is oak but stained cherry.”
Abby wrote that down, impressed despite herself that he knew the answer off the top of his head.
She read Caroline’s next question word for word. “‘Are the walls in the ballroom aqua or moss?’”
“I honestly have not the slightest idea.”
Abby put a star by that, as she had next to the conservatory, flower, and shade questions. “Does your in-house caterer make tarts?”
“Tell her the catering options are all on our website. Special requests go through the head of catering, but there is a request form on—”
“The website,” Abby finished for him. “That’s not very antiquey of you. Shouldn’t you be giving that information by telegram or something?”
His smile spread to a grin. A smile like that was a dangerous thing. “We do cater to those looking for a traditional event.”
“If by traditional you mean old and fancy, I agree.”
His expression clearly showed he thought she was offering a compliment. If she’d said snotty instead of fancy like she’d meant to at first, he probably wouldn’t have been as happy about it.
They went through a few more questions. After fifteen minutes, everything left on the list required a walk around the house and grounds. Matthew took a long coat from the coat rack inside the door of his office, along with an old-fashioned umbrella with a cane-style handle. That brought Abby’s eyes to the windows. While they were talking, a steady drizzle had begun.
He held his office door open for her. Dirk had done that when they were out in public. At first she’d liked it, until it became clear he only held the door because not doing it would look uncivilized.
She stepped into the entryway, zipping up her jacket as they walked toward the doors. She tugged the drawstrings on her hood so it pulled tight around her head.
One step short of being beyond the roof of the porch, Matthew popped open the umbrella and held it over both of their heads.He seemed to be making sure it covered her, even if it meant getting a bit wet himself.
It wasn’t even a hard rain, just enough to be annoying. She didn’t know how to respond to a guy opening doors, or pulling out her chair, or holding an umbrella for her. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Actually, I do. It is in the employee handbook.”
She looked up at him. “Seriously?”
He nodded, completely sincere. “I know you think your sister is very particular about things, but I promise you, she has nothing on the owners of this place.”
Matthew suddenly seemed relatable, almost like a normal person. Abby couldn’t quite put her finger on what had changed, but something definitely had. “What other rules do you have to follow?”
He looked over his shoulder back toward the house before resuming their walk, leaning in enough to talk to her under the umbrella. “We are supposed to avoid contractions whenever possible.”
“Like won’t and didn’t and that kind of thing?”
