Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“It’s very colorful,” I said, trying to sound positive. Lauren had us choosing flowers and centerpieces when we hadn’t even decided the number of guests that would be invited.
“But other than the more traditional tables, this is my favorite.” She arced her hand toward the next table with a flourish, like she was the prima ballerina at the Royal Ballet.
I had to hand it to Lauren, the table looked amazing. Instead of the usual pale pinks and creams, the table was covered in bright blue and purple flowers.
“It’s a little more informal than the traditional look. The moss, together with the verbena and the blue boy, gives the feeling of summer meadows.”
“I like it,” Tristan said.
I looked up at him and he looked genuinely enthusiastic. “It’s very you,” he said and he bent and placed a kiss on my forehead. If I hadn’t known it was an act, I would have fallen hook, line, and sinker for the way he looked at me.
“Well, we don’t have to decide now,” I said. “We don’t even know if we want a sit-down meal at the wedding—”
“These table settings are for the engagement party but of course you’ll have a formal meal at both of them,” Lauren interrupted. “There are a lot of people who’ve waited a long time for this moment, Parker. People will want to celebrate with you.”
“But you’re not suggesting that we marquee the tennis courts just for the engagement party?” I turned to my mother for backup, then glanced at my father. I should have known better. He wasn’t going to veto my mother on this kind of thing. And my mother loved to throw parties at the best of times, let alone when her daughter got married. Bloody Sutton, if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have even suggested the wedding thing to Tristan and we wouldn’t be stood around my parent’s garden planning a wedding that would rival Will and Kate’s.
“What about a compromise?” Tristan suggested. “Either a small, intimate engagement party with a sit-down dinner and then a large, informal wedding, with just drinks and canapes. Or a large engagement party with a very small wedding?”
“Or what about no engagement party with a very small wedding at a registry office,” I countered.
“Absolutely not,” my mother said. “Think of your father’s business. Just with his top associates at the bank and then some of his major clients, that’s eighty to one hundred people.”
I groaned. “This isn’t a business event. This is my wedding.”
“I agree,” my father said. “We can get that number down significantly.”
“How many people do you want to invite?” my mother asked Tristan.
“Twelve,” Tristan replied.
My mother stole a glance at my father who was nodding.
“Just twelve?” Lauren asked. “Is that just family and then you want friends and business associates and—”
“Twelve people all together at both the engagement party and the wedding.”
Lauren sighed. “Well, that does free up some space. Perhaps we can pare things back a little and—”
“We could do twelve as well,” I suggested. “Then it’s evenly matched.”
My father started to laugh. “Good luck with that.”
“Either way, we don’t want some ridiculously big do,” I said. It was going to be embarrassing enough to tell everyone we were divorcing.
“I know you don’t like being the center of attention,” Lauren said. “But it’s your wedding day.”
Silence descended on the group like a grey cloud in a summer sky.
“I’ve got it!” Lauren clicked her fingers in the air like she’d just performed magic. “The engagement party is held here at the house. We go all out. Outdoor chandeliers, live music, ice sculptures, flowers wherever you look.” This wasn’t sounding like the small, intimate gathering I’d hoped for. “We call it a party to celebrate your marriage. It’s not an engagement party. It’s not a wedding. It’s just a party. But it’s big, and fun, and informal. And then you have a small wedding of twenty—or maybe fifty of the people closest to you.”
Tristan squeezed my hand. “How do you feel about that?” he asked, his tone hushed, and even though my parents and Lauren could all hear, I appreciated him making it just about the two of us for the first time since we’d stepped through my parents’ front door.
“How do you feel?” Not only did I not want to make a big fuss about marrying a man who I’d be a stranger to once our divorce was finalized, but I didn’t want to put Tristan through it. Our relationship was faked and Tristan seemed like a good guy. I wanted to downplay this entire thing.
“I think it sounds like a good compromise,” he said. “I like the idea of the actual wedding being small.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Okay,” I said to Lauren. “Big party. Small wedding. But the wedding has got a cap of twenty-five—including everyone standing right here.”