Page 30 of Hopeless Romantic
“Did you hear they hired me to plan it?”
“Emmitt left that part out.” Levi wondered what else his friend had left out. From the stress lines pressing in on Beckett’s forehead, he’d say a lot. “I would think that being asked to plan your friends’ wedding would be a big honor.”
“It is,” she said softly. “It’s also a big responsibility. Too big.”
After the disaster with the fire chief’s retirement party, Levi would have to agree. It wasn’t that Beckett lacked drive; she worked harder than anyone he knew. But when it came to follow through, she seemed to spread herself too thin. Then again, this was her best friend’s wedding, not delivering a couple hundred crab cakes to the Moose Lodge.
Annie could organize a library in the middle of a hurricane and direct a parade of feral cats. If she needed help with her wedding, odds were, it was more emotional than logistical. Beckett might come off as flighty at times, but the way she cared for those closest to her was astounding. She was the self-appointed protector of her family and friends.
After the market and seeing just what she was dealing with in her personal life, Levi had a hard time passing judgment. He knew the level of selflessness it took to step in and raise another family member’s kid, knew the sacrifices that came along with it, and he respected the hell out of her for how she’d handled the situation.
“Maybe you’re just what she needs,” he said softly. “Someone to stand between her and outside expectations. Someone to remind everyone that it’s her day.”
“The scary gatekeeper with a crowbar role is the easy part,” she said, and he laughed. “It’s the rest . . .” She took a deep breath. “They want me, someone who hates weddings, to plan an elegant, intimate, perfect wedding for the perfect couple. Only they don’t want to be bothered by details.Anyof the details,” she said, looking a bit hysterical. “As in, plan it all, and we’ll show up.”
“You hate weddings?” he asked, trying to name a single woman he knew who hated weddings. He couldn’t think of one.
The women in his life were hardwired to weep, squeal, or burst into applause at the mere mention of a wedding. His mom had her wedding photo framed above the fireplace, the album on the coffee table, and her dress in a vacuum-sealed container, which would likely survive a nuclear blast. Michelle hadn’t been any better.
When Prince Harry and Meghan married, Levi was forced to shut down his bar during a Red Sox and Yankees game to broadcast the royal wedding in a private viewing party for Michelle, his mom, and two hundred of their closest friends. Michelle had stuffed him into a tux and top hat so he could escort each lady to and from her car.
“That’s your big takeaway?”
“No, I just thought all women wore wedding goggles.”
“No goggles here. A benefit we fringe women experience,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm.
Her posture told a different story entirely. Her eyes were downcast, her hand fidgeting with the beer label, and there was almost something fragile about the way she sat. Something similar to the way she’d hugged herself at the market. It made his chest hurt then. Made it ache now.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know,” she interrupted, casually waving him off.
“Is that why you disappeared during their engagement party? An allergic reaction?” He’d meant it as a joke of sorts.
She didn’t laugh.
“I left because of a personal issue, which I explained to Annie. She understood.” Her chin was high, her eyes narrowed into twoback the fuck offslits that had him doing anything but.
His heart warned him to pay attention to that glare, but his head couldn’t let it go. The “hostess” might have had a solid reason for bolting before even the first toast was made, but it was clear she had zero clue as to the fallout she’d left in her wake.
Levi had noticed Beckett outside by the pool in a stunning teal dress, her hair swept up in a fancy knot, wearing a pair of strappy heels that became instant spank-bank stars. She had a box in her hand, her back to the party, and her face tilted to the sky, the moonlight casting a glow over her smooth skin.
He’d always thought she was beautiful, but that night she’d been stunning. And all alone.
Sensing his opportunity, Levi approached her and made a gentlemanly offer to get her a drink and place her dessert box inside with the others. She looked at him as if he were the devil incarnate. Told him she’d be right back, then disappeared.
Ten minutes later, Levi had heard the traditional tinkling of glasses. He headed back inside to celebrate one of the happiest moments in his best friend’s life, only to discover the bride and groom in the kitchen, dusted in flour and anxiety, making appetizers for the sixty hungry guests in their front room. The hostess and her dessert were MIA.
“Maybe she did, but that didn’t change the fact that Annie ended up hosting her own engagement party. She spent the night running around, catering to her guests, and didn’t get to enjoy herself.”
“I didn’t know. She told me everything got handled, and it was a lovely evening. I should have known it was Annie who handled everything.” Her voice was thread-thin. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
A devastating dose of guilt had Levi’s heart delivering a painfulI told you sopinch.
“It worked out,” he heard himself say consolingly.
“This is their wedding!” Her voice was more than a little desperate now. “It can’t just work out. It has to be perfect.” She gave a nervous laugh. “Which is why I have a favor to ask.”
