Page 18 of Fall Surprises
My phone buzzed. Emma's text:Break a leg! You've got this!
I smoothed my hands over my burgundy wrap dress and headed toward the front of the inn. The performance was about to start.
FIRST CAME AN ENORMOUSblack SUV that disgorged Raven and Stormi Monroe in a cloud of perfume—tuberose and chemical sweetness that made my eyes water. Raven wore head-to-toe designer athleisure that probably cost morethan my monthly rent, her long black extensions whipping in the mountain breeze. Stormi, platinum blonde and matching her sister's aesthetic, had at least six Louis Vuitton bags, not counting the three garment bags a harried assistant was attempting to carry.
"Oh. My. GOD!" Raven shrieked, throwing her arms wide. "SAM! This is SO CUTE!"
She kissed the air beside both my cheeks. Behind her designer sunglasses, I couldn't read her expression, but her voice hit a shrill note that made me wince.
"It's so rustic! So authentic! Like, I can't even—Tony! TONY! Are you getting this?" She whirled toward the TV crew emerging from a second vehicle. "The inn is giving major cozy-core vibes!"
"Welcome to the Evergreen Inn," I said smoothly. "I hope your drive was—"
"The drive was SO LONG. Like, why is Montana so BIG?" Raven moved toward the entrance, phone out, already filming. "Stormi, get in frame. Look surprised and delighted. More delighted! This is your sister's WEDDING!"
Stormi managed a brief smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Hi, Sam. The decorations look lovely."
At least one Monroe sister had manners.
Behind them came two more vehicles—a sleek sports car that had to be Blaze's, and another SUV for the TV crew and equipment. I watched as Blaze Carrington unfolded himself from the driver's seat, all six-foot-three of chiseled jaw and impossibly white teeth. He flexed immediately, as if cameras might be watching. They were—Tony had his camera trained on the groom's arrival.
"BLAZE!" Raven squealed, launching herself at him despite the fact that she was supposedly marrying him in two days. "Babe, this place is EVERYTHING!"
"Hey, baby." His voice had that lazy Texas drawl that probably made his followers swoon. Then he spotted me. "You must be the wedding planner. Sam, right?"
"That's right. Welcome to—"
"Where's the bar?" He was already looking past me toward the inn. "Long drive, need a drink."
Diana Sharp—mid-forties, oversized blazer over a fitted turtleneck—was already scanning the inn's exterior with narrowed eyes.
She spotted me and strode over. "Samantha. Good, you're here." Her handshake was firm and brief. "We'll need full access to all wedding spaces for filming."
"Of course," I said. "Rory Lancaster, the inn's owner, will show you to your rooms." I gestured toward where Rory stood on the porch with Cass beside her.
"Wait, where's MY room?" Raven had apparently finished her video tour of the exterior and was back, hands on hips. "I need the biggest suite. With the best lighting, of course."
"We've prepared the Rose Suite for you, Raven," Rory said smoothly, stepping forward. "And Blaze, you'll be in the Oak Suite."
"Perfect!" Raven beamed. "And I want Stormi next to me. My sister and I need to be able to coordinate our looks."
Beside me, I heard a snort that might have been Cass suppressing laughter.
The next hour passed in a blur of luggage and barely controlled madness. Raven needed help with her bags—seven trips up the stairs because she kept forgetting "essential items." The flowers in her suite were wrong, too autumnal when she'd specifically said she wanted more white roses mixed in. The lighting was terrible for filming—could we move the mirror? Where was the full-length mirror she'd specifically requested?
The mirror was there, of course. Raven just hadn't seen it yet because she was too busy filming herself complaining about its absence.
Blaze discovered there was no gym and demanded to know how he was supposed to maintain his physique. "I need weights. A bench press, at minimum." He flexed for emphasis, then caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror and paused to adjust his hair.
Stormi disappeared into her room and didn't emerge, despite Raven pounding on her door and demanding help choosing between outfits for dinner.
Jett Vegas claimed the best spot on the porch within minutes of arrival, set up speakers, and started DJing.
Through it all, Diana followed with Tony and his camera, documenting every moment. "Authentic dysfunction," she murmured to me at one point, her eyes gleaming. "This is exactly what we need."
By five o'clock, I'd handled a dozen different crises and seriously contemplated walking into the Montana wilderness and never coming back.
I escaped to the kitchen.
