Page 47
Story: One with You (Crossfire #5)
“Sweet. How about Kristin?”
“Getting to that, baby girl. She’s in the office all day today, so you can call her anytime. Or drop her an e-mail, if that’s easier. She’s champing at the bit to talk to you.”
“I’ll call her. You figure out where we’re going to dinner yet?”
“I feel like Asian. Chinese, Japanese, Thai … something like that.”
“Well, all right, then. Asian it is.” I leaned my head back against the seat. “Thanks, Cary.”
“Happy to help. When are you coming home?”
“Not sure yet. I’ve got one more thing to do, then I’ll head back.”
“I’ll see you then.”
I killed the call as Angus slid into a spot by the curb.
“That’s her office across the street,” he explained, directing my attention to the brick-faced building on my side. It had several stories and a small, neat lobby visible through glass doors.
I checked it out briefly, imagining her inside with a patient, someone who was baring their most personal secrets without knowing who they were really talking to. That was the way it worked. The mental health professional we trusted knew everything about us, while we only knew what we could discern from photos on desks and degrees on walls.
Scrolling through my contacts, I found Kristin’s number and called her office. Her assistant put me through straightaway.
“Hi, Eva. I had you on my list to call, but your friend beat me to it. I’ve been trying to reach you for a few days now, actually.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that.”
“No problem. I saw the pictures of you and Cross at the beach. I don’t blame you for not calling back. We do need to get together, though, and nail down some details.”
“September twenty-second is the date.”
There was a pause. “Okay. Wow.”
I winced, knowing I was asking a lot on incredibly short notice. And that it was going to cost a pretty penny to get it done in time. “I’ve decided my mom’s right about the white, cream, and gold palette, so let’s run with that. I’d like small accents of red. For example, I’ll have a neutral bouquet, but my jewelry will be rubies.”
“Ooh. Let me think. Maybe red damask skirts beneath white tablecloths …? Or Murano glass chargers under crystal plates … I’ll pull together some options.” She blew out her breath. “I really have to see the location.”
“I can arrange for a flight down. When can you go?”
“As soon as possible,” Kristen said briskly. “I’m tied up tomorrow evening, but the morning would work.”
“I’ll work it out and send you the details.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for it. Eva … do you have your dress?”
“Uh … no.”
She laughed. When she spoke again, the tension I’d heard before was gone. “I completely understand wanting to hurry things along with a man like yours, but more time would help make sure everything runs smoothly and you have your perfect day.”
“It’ll be perfect no matter what might go wrong.” I rubbed the back of my ring with my thumb, taking comfort from its presence on my hand. “It’s Gideon’s birthday.”
“Whew. Okay, then. We’ll make it happen.”
My mouth curved. “Thank you. Talk to you soon.”
I hung up and looked at the building across the street. Next door was a small café. I’d walk over and get a latte after I contacted the designer.
I sent Gideon a text. Who should I talk to about flying the wedding planner down to the Outer Banks house tomorrow AM?
It felt a little weird to ask the question. Who would’ve thought I’d ever have private jets at my disposal? I wasn’t sure I’d ever be blasé about using them.
I waited a minute for a reply. When it didn’t come, I called Blaire Ash.
“Hi, Blaire,” I said, when he answered. “It’s Eva Tramell, Gideon Cross’s fiancée.”
“Eva. Of course I know who you are.” His voice was warm and friendly. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“I’d like to go over some of the design details with you. Cary said you can meet tomorrow?”
“Sure. What time works for you?”
Thinking of the trip to the Outer Banks with Kristin, I answered, “Would evening work? Say six-ish?”
Gideon would be with Dr. Petersen until at least seven o’clock. Then he’d have to commute home. That gave me enough time to switch some things up with our design plans.
“That works for me,” Blair agreed. “I’ll meet you at the penthouse?”
“Getting to that, baby girl. She’s in the office all day today, so you can call her anytime. Or drop her an e-mail, if that’s easier. She’s champing at the bit to talk to you.”
“I’ll call her. You figure out where we’re going to dinner yet?”
“I feel like Asian. Chinese, Japanese, Thai … something like that.”
“Well, all right, then. Asian it is.” I leaned my head back against the seat. “Thanks, Cary.”
“Happy to help. When are you coming home?”
“Not sure yet. I’ve got one more thing to do, then I’ll head back.”
“I’ll see you then.”
I killed the call as Angus slid into a spot by the curb.
“That’s her office across the street,” he explained, directing my attention to the brick-faced building on my side. It had several stories and a small, neat lobby visible through glass doors.
I checked it out briefly, imagining her inside with a patient, someone who was baring their most personal secrets without knowing who they were really talking to. That was the way it worked. The mental health professional we trusted knew everything about us, while we only knew what we could discern from photos on desks and degrees on walls.
Scrolling through my contacts, I found Kristin’s number and called her office. Her assistant put me through straightaway.
“Hi, Eva. I had you on my list to call, but your friend beat me to it. I’ve been trying to reach you for a few days now, actually.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that.”
“No problem. I saw the pictures of you and Cross at the beach. I don’t blame you for not calling back. We do need to get together, though, and nail down some details.”
“September twenty-second is the date.”
There was a pause. “Okay. Wow.”
I winced, knowing I was asking a lot on incredibly short notice. And that it was going to cost a pretty penny to get it done in time. “I’ve decided my mom’s right about the white, cream, and gold palette, so let’s run with that. I’d like small accents of red. For example, I’ll have a neutral bouquet, but my jewelry will be rubies.”
“Ooh. Let me think. Maybe red damask skirts beneath white tablecloths …? Or Murano glass chargers under crystal plates … I’ll pull together some options.” She blew out her breath. “I really have to see the location.”
“I can arrange for a flight down. When can you go?”
“As soon as possible,” Kristen said briskly. “I’m tied up tomorrow evening, but the morning would work.”
“I’ll work it out and send you the details.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for it. Eva … do you have your dress?”
“Uh … no.”
She laughed. When she spoke again, the tension I’d heard before was gone. “I completely understand wanting to hurry things along with a man like yours, but more time would help make sure everything runs smoothly and you have your perfect day.”
“It’ll be perfect no matter what might go wrong.” I rubbed the back of my ring with my thumb, taking comfort from its presence on my hand. “It’s Gideon’s birthday.”
“Whew. Okay, then. We’ll make it happen.”
My mouth curved. “Thank you. Talk to you soon.”
I hung up and looked at the building across the street. Next door was a small café. I’d walk over and get a latte after I contacted the designer.
I sent Gideon a text. Who should I talk to about flying the wedding planner down to the Outer Banks house tomorrow AM?
It felt a little weird to ask the question. Who would’ve thought I’d ever have private jets at my disposal? I wasn’t sure I’d ever be blasé about using them.
I waited a minute for a reply. When it didn’t come, I called Blaire Ash.
“Hi, Blaire,” I said, when he answered. “It’s Eva Tramell, Gideon Cross’s fiancée.”
“Eva. Of course I know who you are.” His voice was warm and friendly. “It’s good to hear from you.”
“I’d like to go over some of the design details with you. Cary said you can meet tomorrow?”
“Sure. What time works for you?”
Thinking of the trip to the Outer Banks with Kristin, I answered, “Would evening work? Say six-ish?”
Gideon would be with Dr. Petersen until at least seven o’clock. Then he’d have to commute home. That gave me enough time to switch some things up with our design plans.
“That works for me,” Blair agreed. “I’ll meet you at the penthouse?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149