Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
If the helicopter crashed and we died on the way back to the city, I would die with my life’s ambition fulfilled. I could not wait to tell Holli.
We left Tom with a “we’ll let you know” when he drove us back to the waiting helicopter. As we strapped in, Neil gave me a wry glance and said, “I hope that’s out of your system now.”
I beamed at him.
When we lifted off, I looked down at the house. The sprawling grounds had a pond and various outbuildings, including an eccentric copy of the Pavilion Français at Versailles. Tom had shown us photos, so we didn’t have to brave the cold again, but I could pick out a few of the buildings now, darker spots against the green-black of the grass and trees. There was a guesthouse Tom had referred to as a “mother-in-law residence,” which had made Neil freeze like he’d just been shot. In no way did I want my mother to come live with us, but it was too funny not to let him panic over the idea.
“What do you think?” Neil asked. His fingers laced through and locked with mine as he pointedly avoided looking out the window.
“I think…” I sat back and leaned my head on his shoulder. “I think we’re going to be very happy here.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Though it was surprisingly difficult to return to real life once we’d put in our offer on the house, there was really nothing left for us to do. After the first two days of jumping every time the phone rang, I had to get out.
Luckily, with the wedding locked down under Valerie’s obsessive attention to detail, Emma had turned her event-planning anxiety to a more pressing date: Neil’s fiftieth birthday party.
She met me for lunch at Hangawi, a midtown Korean vegetarian restaurant where you took off your shoes at the door and sat at booths with sunken floors beneath the low tables. I arrived ten minutes late, to a very familiar expression.
“You know, if we’re going to pull off a surprise party, you will need to be on time,” Emma said with an arched brow.
“I know, I know.” I took a seat on the cushion on the floor and slid my legs under the table. “But you know, if I’m supposed to actually get your father to the party on time, I won’t technically be late. Since the party can’t officially start without him.”
Her pursed lips told me off more effectively than she ever could have with words.
“So, what have you got?” I leaned my elbows on the table and folded my hands beneath my chin. “I’ve never planned anyone’s gigantic birthday party.”
“Good! Then I can do it all.” She rummaged in her Kate Spade bag for her iPad.
“You sound awfully excited about that prospect, for someone who’s getting married in five months.” I shrugged out of my coat, and the passing hostess stopped to take it.
Emma rolled her eyes as she tapped the screen. “Oh, am I getting married? Because you wouldn’t know it, to talk to her.”
“She just wants everything to be perfect.” It was no use defending Valerie. I knew well enough how contentious the relationship could be between a daughter and her single mother. When my wedding was approaching, my mom would probably be just as bad.
I hoped she would be just as bad. It hadn’t occurred to me before, but she might not want to have anything to do with my wedding. She was super mad about my relationship with Neil, and I hadn’t spoken to her since the phone call where I’d broken the news of our engagement.
Suddenly, grilled todok didn’t sound as appetizing as it had in the car on the way over.
“Sophie, are you okay? You’ve gone quite pale.” She squinted at me over the top of her iPad.
I waved a hand. “It’s fine. I was just thinking about your problem.”
“Honestly, the woman acts as though it isn’t my job to orchestrate full-scale events for a massive not-for-profit organization.” She turned the tablet to face me. “This is where I think we should do it.”
My heart stuck in my throat. 1 OAK was one of the fabled New York lounges. I’d never been, but Holli had, and she’d said the place had been wall-to-wall celebs at the time. “Isn’t that going to be…um. I don’t think nightclubs are really your father’s scene.”
“No, and for god’s sake, we don’t want him dancing,” Emma said, and I had the internal American-hearing-an-English-accent squee at the way she pronounced it, “dawncing.” She flicked the screen again and showed me a seating and floor plan. “This is what they came up with. I was thinking we should keep it intimate.”
I frowned at the circles and lines. “Intimate? This looks like seating for two hundred.”
“I know. So we will have to be very cautious about who does and does not receive an invitation.” She clucked her tongue and turned the iPad around, frowning. “Do you think we should go with a larger venue?”