Page 35 of The Wedding Run
We avoid looking at each other. When he parks the truck, I jump out and hurry inside. A dramatic Celine Dion song plays over the speakers.
Andrea is already waiting at a corner table.
I plop down in the vacant seat. “Show me what you got.”
With a relieved smile, Andrea opens a binder full of receipts and cut-out magazine pictures. It’s a hodgepodge of notes jotted down on napkins and candy wrappers. It makes my fingers itch to categorize and sort everything. Immediately, I pull out my iPad and start an emergency list.
We get right to work, and I ignore Luke when he enters. But of course, Andrea doesn’t.
“Hey, Luke! Want to join us?”
“No, uh… I have to, uh…” He gestures at nothing and disappears into the back.
Roxie follows him with her gaze, then looks at me.
I lean over my iPad.
“Something wrong with Luke?” Andrea asks.
“He seems out of sorts,” Roxie says, drying her hands on a towel.
“What’s this?” I ask, waving a receipt to distract Andrea. Thankfully, it works.
It takes us some time to sort through everything and get organized, but that is my specialty, and soon we are on track and making progress.
“I forgot to call the photographer,” Andrea laments. “I close on a house this week, which is good, but it’s been extra crazy.”
“I’ll handle it. Don’t you worry.” I take note of the photographer’s phone number.
Luke brings over a couple of lattes and muffins.
“Luke!” Andrea beams. “Your momma raised you right.”
He avoids looking at me. “Roxie and I came up with a few ideas for coffee drinks for the wedding. This is the Romeo and Juliet latte.”
“Fantastic!” Andrea gushes.
The lattes have foamy rosettes, and I say, “Nice work on the foam art.”
“Can you do these for the wedding?” Andrea asks.
“Absolutely. But the look doesn’t matter as much as the taste,” he says. “Right, Libby?”
“Prepares the palate,” I say.
“So, what are you waiting for?” Luke nods toward the cups.
Andrea and I do not hesitate.
My eyes widen as the sip packs a punch. “Wow.”
“Too much?” His brow scrunches into a frown.
I shake my head. “Not at all. I like my coffee strong.”
“I remember,” he says, his voice dipping low in a sexy, gravelly way. Or maybe I’m imagining it. Yes, definitely imagining.
Andrea smacks her lips. “Delicious! It’s my favorite. Espresso with cinnamon. I can’t believe you remembered, Luke.”
