Page 21 of Own the Eights Gets Married
Georgie nodded. “Yes.”
They left the Pepto-pink ballroom and found the wedding frau standing in the lobby, jotting in her notebook.
“Frau Lieblingsschatz, we’d like to accept your offer,” Jordan announced.
Georgie squeezed his hand. This was a good thing, right? This wedding woman, no matter how intimidating she looked or how bizarrely her mother behaved in her presence, seemed to know what she was talking about.
And she loved the Botanic Gardens in the fall. She’d dreamed of an intimate, romantic wedding there.
The woman had been spot-on.
Jordan met her gaze, and she knew whatever life threw their way, they’d be okay. She loved this man—her Emperor of Asshattery. Her reformed ten, who all along was a solid, loving eight.
Her partner.
Her best friend.
“Very good,” Mrs. Lieblingsschatz said with the slap of the notebook closing.
The wedding nymph popped up and held out a pen and a clipboard. “We need your signatures on this contract and the confidentiality agreement.”
Georgie signed her name, and Jordan followed suit.
“Where does she come from?” Jordan whispered, glancing at the wedding assistant.
“I don’t know. It’s a little disconcerting,” she answered.
It was actuallyverydisconcerting. But, with as nutty as this day had been so far, it was par for the course.
The young woman nodded to the frau, then flitted away.
“Your wedding will be in two weeks,” the wedding planner announced.
“Two weeks?” she and Jordan exclaimed.
“Yes, and it will be the wedding you both have always wanted.”
“Um…okay, thank you,” Georgie sputtered.
This seemed too good to be true.
The wedding frau’s lips twisted into a cunning grin. “And I almost forgot. Here’s the first rule. No sex until after you’re married.”
