Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Never mind, I’ll just add it to my to-do list.”
I’m making one in the Notes app on my phone. It’s so long I have to scroll. If I work from now until I’m dead, I should get through half of it.
Midmorning Tuesday, I’m so tired from cleaning and organizing the office that I leap at the chance to accompany Queenie and a bride to tour a few wedding venues.
I need to get out of the office (can you even call it that!?). I need to clear my head. A huge part of me wants to hightail it right back to Montgomery and beg for my position back at Evermore Events. I’ll get on my knees and grovel, promise to work hard and for half my usual pay. What was I thinking coming back here and working for Queenie?
But I swallow that rising panic. I can’t leave yet. I promised to stay for the summer, which means I should at least become acquainted with the local venues and vendors. This round of tours is a good way to start that process.
My mom drives, and our bride, Dana, sits up in the front while I listen to them discuss her dream wedding from the back seat. What my mom lacks in organizational skills, invoicing skills, and management skills, she makes up for in personality. She really listens to Dana’s concerns and doesn’t try to talk over her or prod her along in the process.
“Just remember this is all meant to be fun. We’re here to hold your hand every step of the way so that from start to finish, your wedding goes off without a hitch. If a caterer cancels last minute, we book you a better one. Wedding dress too tight? Too big? I’ve got the best seamstress this side of the Mississippi on speed dial. Let’s take things one step at a time, shall we?”
Dana sighs with relief. My urge to sprint back to Alabama loses a little bit of steam.
“Today, the only thing we need to focus on is touring potential venues,” my mom confirms.
I wasn’t doing a great job of paying attention to where my mom is driving—what with so much existential dread swirling in my head—so it surprises me when I see the turnoff for Starlight Vineyards up ahead. Had I known this was our first stop, I wouldn’t have volunteered to come along for the tour. In fact—
“Mom, can you pull over?”
“Why?”
Because I can’t see Sawyer again! Not so soon! Not until I get my head on straight.
“I-I think I forgot something back at the office.”
“So?”
My first excuse was pitiful, so I try another, more emergent issue.
“Actually I’m going to be sick. Let me out and leave me under that tree. You can come collect me after y’all are done.”
She scoffs at me in the rearview mirror. “You’re being silly. You look perfectly fine, except your eyes are all wide with panic. Anyway, we’re almost there. If you’re gonna be sick, you can just use their bathrooms.” At this, she turns to Dana. “They have very nice bathrooms here.”
We drive under the wrought iron arch and I yank the door handle—although, why? Am I prepared to fling myself out of a moving car?
Maybe.
“Why are we going here anyway?” I sound shrill.
“This is the first venue on our list today.” My mom laughs.
“People want to get married here?”
I sound like it’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard, and Queenie shoots me a deadly glare in the mirror.
“I mean it’s beautiful,” I amend quickly. “I just didn’t realize there was an event space.”
“Well there is and it’s lovely.” Her tight tone warns that I’d better get it together and fast. “Just as cute as can be. And of course, there’s a huge benefit of working with the vineyard. It’s a great way to cut down on your alcohol budget since they offer special event packages.”
Damn, that’s genius. That, coupled with the beauty of the place, surely tempts quite a few brides and grooms.
Queenie parks in the vineyard’s lot and I’m supposed to get out with them, but I let them do their thing for a while, right up until the heat in the car becomes so unbearable I desperately push the door open and gulp in a breath of fresh air. Damn, Texas summers. I wipe the sweat from my brow and begrudgingly join them just as Queenie finishes explaining the pros and cons of the vineyard’s three different wedding packages.
She’s leading Dana toward the old barrel room. On our date, Sawyer mentioned it’d been converted to a venue, but I didn’t put two and two together. When we step through the doorway, I’m left utterly speechless.
It’s a beautiful chapel made from the bones of the old barrel room. There’s a central aisle with a dozen pews on either side all facing a raised altar. On the far wall, a large window reveals a view of the lush rolling hills. Everything is original, or at least very old. The pews are all distressed and worn. The beams on the ceiling show every bit of their age and character.