Page 6 of Never Marry the Best Man (Whatever It Takes #4)
Ashanti slipped into the room, carrying a fresh pot of coffee in one hand and a mug of herbal tea in the other.
Although he would never dream of ingesting caffeine himself, he had long ago accepted that it was futile to try to convince his work family of the wisdom of this policy. He tried not to judge.
“Thank you for another beautiful meal, Ash,” she went on, and he inclined his head to the chorus of appreciation. “So this week, we have a presentation to a potential client here in the office on Wednesday. Or at least, I do. The heiress to a toaster pastry fortune and her fiancé, who–let’s see–”
“He’s a Montessori teacher,” Nilly supplied.
“Oh, good, Katie will want to meet him!” Not wanting to sound critical, Kari immediately tempered her response.
“It’s a steep learning curve, you know, overwhelming sometimes.
I’m sure I drove you all crazy when Teddy was a baby…
” But it was clear that, as a now-experienced mother of a toddler, she had forgotten.
Everyone but Nilly immediately became engrossed in their tablets, or peeling a Satsuma, or checking their manicure. Only Nilly met Kari’s gaze, and although she said nothing, her expression plainly said, “You’re joking, right?”
Kari’s memory of her postpartum self as relatively calm and confident for a beginner was not exactly shaken by Nilly’s reaction, but a change of subject did suddenly seem prudent.
“Okay, that’s Wednesday. Ashanti, can you draw up some menus and run them by me? Just no toaster pastries,” she joked, but he didn’t smile. “Then we have the Sanderson bachelor weekend. Or at least, Ranney does. Can you update us?”
“Everything’s on track as of now, no real updates.
We all know the basics”–she glanced around the room, catching Nessa’s eyes and then Claire’s with a tiny smile–“six attendees including the groom, no actors or rock stars and you won’t know them from reading People Magazine , but they’re all a fairly easy google.
Charlie Sanderson is something like twentieth in line for the British throne, so you can probably imagine the cohort. ”
Someone sighed. It might have been Claire.
“It’s being held at a private fly-fishing club,” Ranney continued.
“In Idaho. On the plus side, I can’t imagine there’s much trouble they can get into there.
Alcohol poisoning maybe, or bears, but it’d be an awfully long trek for a stripper and not worthwhile for paparazzi.
There can’t be much demand for photos of minor royalty wearing rubber overalls and holding up a dead trout. Or whatever.”
This optimistic assessment was met with a snort but this time, the source was clear: Archie.
“First of all, they’re called waders. Second of all, you should know by now that magazines pay good money for photos of any royalty doing anything . One clear shot of Meghan Markle brushing her teeth will pay for your kid’s college.”
“Anyway,” Ranney said firmly, trying not to lose focus, “the club provides its own security, so as long as the party stays on the property, we’re not responsible.”
“Then why are we even going?” Archie asked, looking at Kari. “If it’s their responsibility, should we be involved at all? This is the first I’ve heard of this event, other than the name on the schedule, or I would have brought it up sooner.”
“As Ranney said,” Kari answered, “the party needs to stay on the property. The club security will handle any intruders and protect privacy. Some of the groomsmen may bring their own details for personal protection. Ranney will be there to ensure that no one gets creative and decides to go into town and find a bar to experience some local color. And it’s just prudent for us to have someone on site for an event like this.
If nothing goes wrong, we look like we were on top of it.
If anything does go wrong…” she didn’t exactly shudder, but she made a sort of involuntary flinch, “...then we have a highly experienced senior staff member in place to handle it.”
“ ‘Senior ,’” Nessa mouthed, unable to resist poking her mother.
“The wedding is in Austin,” Ranney said, her words making Nessa look up with a happy expression.
“I think,” Claire spoke up, her tone serious, “I really think someone from my department should be present. It sounds like the greatest risk is some kind of media breach. We can handle that most effectively at ground zero.”
“Is that in the budget?” Kari asked Ranney, then turned back to Claire. “I see your point, but if there’s no breach, then we have someone sitting around in Idaho doing nothing for four days and I’m not sure we can bill for that. Who would you want to send?”
“Hmm,” Claire mused. She fiddled with her pen. She studied the ceiling. She sat forward and tapped her tablet as if checking schedules.
Ranney watched this performance with deep skepticism; as Nessa’s mother, she had seen some pretty good ploys in her time.
Like the year Nessa’s boyfriend was going off to an archaeology internship for the summer and Nessa suddenly discovered an intense and hitherto unknown interest in Pre-Colombian art.
And there was one internship spot still available…
“All my people have got major projects going at the moment.” Claire’s voice communicated professional concern, momentary hesitation, and then: “I guess it would have to be me. I seem to be the only person available. I couldn’t pull anyone else away next weekend.”
“It’s this weekend,” Ranney put in helpfully.
“I meant this weekend.” Claire said quickly.
“Well,” Kari said thoughtfully, “let me check the numbers. I’ll let you know this afternoon. Thank you, Claire, that’s really generous of you to sacrifice your time for us.”
Ranney rolled her eyes.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Claire; she did–at least as far as she knew her, given that they worked on different floors and Claire was a quiet person in every way.
Very good at her job, of course, but not a participant in the social life of the office.
It was just, this elaborate ruse… what was the point?
In Claire’s shoes, she would have said something simple like, “Sounds like a fun project. I’ll handle this one. ”
Ranney was a big believer in calling a spade a spade.
Maybe it was the result of being brought up by Mame, a woman who managed to be both charming and utterly matter-of-fact.
Maybe it was in response to the shock of her husband’s deception, all those years ago.
Other than the little white lies of kindness–“That bright pink looks wonderful on you!” “You haven’t changed one bit in thirty years!
”–she stuck to the plain truth. It was easier for everyone.
Easier to remember and keep track of, and easier to evaluate and make decisions. Subtext had always been lost on her.
It was ironic, she supposed, that she’d ended up in the wedding business, but her job wasn’t to create the fairy-tale fantasies. It was to protect them from the cold, hard realities of life. Ignoring those realities could be dangerous, literally.
If her expertise was in risk management, Claire’s was in media and public relations. Was this difference in their personalities really so surprising?
“Okay.” Kari’s voice broke into her thoughts. “When do you leave, Ranney?”
“First thing Friday morning. I’ll be back in the office on Tuesday. The wedding party arrives Friday night and flies out on Monday. They’ll be out on the stream all day, I imagine, so I plan to be on my computer, prepping for the wedding next month.”
“I’ll do the same,” Claire said quickly. “Uh, if all goes well, I mean.”
Nessa raised one eyebrow and Ranney braced herself for whatever was coming. She knew that look.
“You know, Claire,” Nessa put in, “I’m doing a site visit for the bachelorette party at the end of the week, and I’ll be flying back on Friday.
I could just divert to Idaho. That would save money on a round-trip flight for you and Mom and I can share a room.
We can just Zoom with you if anything comes up.
Then you don’t need to give up your weekend just for Wedding Pros. ”
She looked at Kari sweetly, but the dead giveaway was “Mom.” Ranney knew Nessa scrupulously avoided calling her that at work.
“No! That’s–no, I can–you can’t–” Claire was losing it.
“My goodness,” Kari smiled, “the self-sacrifice in here today is overwhelming. I still have to look at the budget, but don’t worry, Claire. I’m pretty sure Nessa’s just messing with you.”
Nessa’s eyes opened wide in a “who, me?” expression of mock innocence, then she winked at Claire.
“It’s true! We can respond much quicker in the event of a problem if I’m there,” Claire said defensively. “I am sure the Palace would be extremely appreciative…”
“Maybe, but as extended families go, Charlie Sanderson is pretty far down the line.” Kari’s tone ended the discussion. “Now, what’s happening with the bachelorette plans, Nessa?”
Before Nessa could answer, Katie re-entered the room. Taking her seat at the conference table, she immediately flipped open her laptop and began typing, pausing, then typing again.
“Go ahead, Ness,” Kari prompted, shooting a puzzled look at Katie, who didn’t notice.
“Well,” Nessa started, “it’s the week after the bachelor weekend.
Bridesmaids, the bride of course, and her mother is coming.
Also a hairdresser, a photographer, and a personal assistant.
She’s my main contact–the assistant–but she just got hired, so she can’t really tell me much.
I guess I’ll have a better idea after the site visit? ”
“It’s in Austin, right?” Archie asked.
“Right. Miraval Spa.”
At these words, Ashanti’s head snapped up.
“Miraval?” he echoed. By his tone, he might have said, “Eden?” For Ash to speak in a meeting without being asked a direct question was entirely without precedent; even Katie looked up from her screen and focused her attention on him.