Page 13 of The Ex Effect (Meet Cute in Minnesota #1)

SIX

MORGAN

Throughout the years, I’d been present for close to a hundred wedding photo sessions.

But normally I was running around the venue telling cake vendors where to set up, making sure the wedding party wasn’t dipping too early into the champagne, and decorating like my life depended on it.

I’d sneak quick peeks out the venue window but never found the picture-taking session to be all that interesting.

But today, I very reluctantly admitted that watching Frankie work was a thrill.

As the camera clicked, even with the cloud cover, Frankie’s eyes lit up with specks of amber and gold, becoming nearly honey-colored.

After Olivia and Tommy arrived, and some pleasantries exchanged, Frankie flipped a switch.

She was professional, engaged, her deep-set dimples fully on display—and someone I realized I didn’t know.

Teen Frankie wouldn’t have had a quiet command over people like this or listened without interrupting.

She would’ve charmed, sure, bulldozed, definitely, been loud, of course.

But now she was gentle, empathetic, completely in control.

My brain couldn’t fully process what I was witnessing.

“Tommy, amazing. Head up, tilted like this. Okay, look into Olivia’s eyes. Think about the things that you love about her…think of your first date. Great, great.” Click, click . Frankie rested her camera for a moment and shifted the couple. Click, click. “Let’s head to the back.”

I followed a few steps behind. The attention to detail Frankie took to capture photos was intense, and yet another thing I would have never put in the same sentence—Frankie and attention to detail.

She tugged on sleeves, adjusted finger placement, swiped tiny hair strands that I hadn’t even noticed.

An hour in, and I was impressed. Not that I’d ever tell her that.

Because no matter how impressive Frankie might be, she was still awful.

Still the one who cared so little about anyone but herself, proven time and again.

The property behind the barn was stunning. So much green . Cedar and pine, underbrush lining the area, long swooping branches. Twigs crunched beneath my feet as I walked the path to the hundred-year-old oak tree with the two-seater wooden swing.

Tommy tugged at the rope, and the crackle of wood echoed in response. “Not sure we should sit on this.”

“Dang.” Olivia flipped her long, dark hair over her shoulder and frowned. “I really wanted to get this picture.”

Frankie approached them, and even though I couldn’t hear everything being said, it was obvious Frankie was in charge.

Even Frankie’s normal fidgets were muted and her body calm.

The photo session wasn’t part of my job description, but I always felt a deep sense of obligation that every aspect of the weddings I planned had to be perfect.

The weight of this pushed on my shoulders, often waking me up at night in a sweat, but evened out as I checked items off the task list. But now, watching Frankie be in control, was…

liberating. I inhaled a deep, pine-scented breath.

Whoa. Olivia and Tommy must both be professional squatters because the position Frankie had them in looked awkward as hell as their butts hovered over the seat and fingers gripped the rope.

How Frankie would translate that into a good photo, I had no idea.

But after spending time here today, no doubt Frankie could pull it off.

“Damn. Feel the burn.” Tommy laughed as he stood. He grabbed Olivia, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and whispered something in her ear that had Olivia beaming.

After spending an hour with Tommy, I came to a few conclusions. One, he was a nice-enough guy. Two, he really loved Olivia. Three, he could give an absolute shit less about any wedding details.

“Little break time. I need to set up a few things.” Frankie crouched and dug through a tote.

Perfect. My turn . I stepped towards the couple, fingers crossed. Please give me something . “Are we any closer on the headcount? We really need a ballpark figure to help narrow down the already limited options for venues.”

Olivia grimaced and glanced at Tommy. “Less than three hundred. I hope?” She tucked a long dark lock behind her ear. “If it were up to me, I’d say thirty.”

“It is up to you.” But sadly, I knew what Olivia meant. A decade in this business and one thing was consistent—the day was rarely about the individuals getting married. Everyone lobbed their opinions, from attendees to food. “You’re the ones getting married.”

Tommy chuckled and wrapped an arm around Olivia’s waist. “You don’t know our parents.

We’ve both gotten the ‘it would mean a lot to us if you’d invite…

’ and they rattle off some random names that we’ve never heard of.

Just today my mom asked me to invite her former co-worker. I’ve never even met the person.”

“I don’t care, honestly.” Olivia leaned her head on Tommy’s broad shoulder. “One, two, a thousand. I just want to marry my love. ”

I swallowed back a surprising blip of emotion.

Love. What a concept. All these years, after Frankie, the only things I loved were my family and my job.

I’d dated enough, but never had that spark, that zing, that fire, I had with Frankie.

Maybe I didn’t give the other women enough of a try.

Maybe I didn’t give myself enough of a try.

But now, watching these two… the looks, the natural support, the clear respect and adoration… would that ever be me?

Before I got emotional—and even worse, unprofessional—I cleared my throat. “Have you thought any more about colors?”

“I like green.” Tommy dug the toe of his boot into the gravel.

Olivia groaned and gave me an overexaggerated eye roll. “I showed him sage, kelly, forest, seafoam… nothing.”

“Greens is green. We can do hot pink for all I care.” His smile dropped and he raised his hands. “Wait, that sounds awful. I care. I promise I do. Just…not about the shade of green.”

If I had more time, this would be kind of funny. The color indifference from one member of the couples I helped was almost a tradition. But I had zero time, and every decision held up another. Ninety freaking days.

Frankie crossed back towards us. “You guys ready for the next round?”

For the next hour, she guided the couple everywhere from the shed, to sitting on top of the gate, to leaning against trees.

After another half hour passed, Frankie looked energized, and the couple fatigued.

Frankie seemed happy to snap photos for hours, but if she didn’t pick up on the obvious social cues, I might need to butt in and set the couple free.

Finally, Frankie pulled out the champagne—the last shot of the day. Tommy and Olivia shook the bottle and popped the top to squeals and laughter. Bubbly liquid blasted in the air like a fire hydrant, and even though I caught unexpected liquid shrapnel, I laughed.

“You guys did amazing.” Frankie scrolled through a few photos on the camera. “These are gonna be beautiful. Give me at least a week or two to edit, and I’ll send them your way.”

As Tommy helped Frankie carry things back to the car, I strolled next to Olivia, kicking small rocks out of the way.

“It’s so quiet out here.” Olivia pulled in a deep breath as they approached Frankie and Tommy loading at the truck. “I love Duluth, but I can hear the traffic from our apartment. But out here…it’s just so peaceful.”

“It really is.” The pinecone scent was rejuvenating. And past all the junk littering the ground, the budding trees and swaying tall grass were beautiful. Acres and acres of beauty…

The idea had crossed my mind when we arrived but firmed when Frankie was shooting pictures. We can do this . At the truck, I tugged Frankie out of earshot of the couple. “What if we had the wedding here?”

Frankie looked at me like I had just sprouted fresh alien ears. “ Here? As in funky smelling, broken windows, probably wild animals burrowed in places I don’t want to think about, here ?”

Absolutely. The overflowing piles of broken junk shifted from daunting to manageable. The trees looked alive, green, welcoming. This could work. “Do you think your aunt and uncle would be open to it?”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Frankie blew out a slow breath. “Maybe? But…how would that even work? I mean…look at this place.”

I had looked at this place. For the last two hours, I scoured the property.

With each glance, the place transformed from “broken” to “opportunity.” Would it be a hell of a lift?

Yes. Did I have a million things to do besides help fix up the venue?

Double yes. But could it be done? I was pretty sure.

“Leave the details to me. I want to see what Olivia thinks.”

“And Tommy,” Frankie said .

I withheld a chuckle. “Yes, and him.” I raced back to the couple.

Please, please, please go for this. I tried to calm my breath before reaching them to not seem too overexcited, but I almost couldn’t help it.

This place was the place . “I have an idea. If we can make it work, what do you think about having the wedding here?” I tried to gauge their thoughts with the glances they shared.

“Obviously, we’d need a crew. It’d take a ton of work, and probably a chunk of money, but you have a pretty hefty budget.

We could swap the cost of fixing up this place and a small stipend in place of a larger rental.

And, you know, the golf course you originally wanted to rent would probably cost about the same. ”

Several moments passed, and with each one my heart thumped stronger.

Tommy’s head tilted from side to side as Olivia paced with her lips pulled tight.

I could almost see Olivia’s wheels turn as she looked across the property, at the barn—that seemed no longer so broken as it was weathered —and back at her fiancé.

My belly fluttered while my mind shifted into fifth-gear overdrive.

This would solve 90 percent of our problems. The only issue would be time and crew.

But my parents owned a remodeling business…

Pete and Patty’s place had a shed… We could rent high-quality portable toilets that flushed and had sinks…

Since their tree farm was already a licensed business, they probably had the right insurance and things.

Maybe. Hopefully .

I eyed Frankie’s neutrally frozen face. Probably scared to skew Tommy and Olivia’s response. But dang it, right now, Frankie better skew.

Tommy grabbed Olivia’s hand. “What do you think?”

Olivia ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, then glanced at Frankie. “You think your aunt and uncle would go for this?”

A long moment passed. “Maybe?” Frankie said. “My parents said they’ve been talking about retiring, so they might either be super open to it because it will up the value if they sell or totally opposed because of the hassle.”

Please. I pulled Frankie to the side in case I had to get on my knees and beg .

“Would you talk to them?” I gripped Frankie’s forearm like my nephew Henry pleading for a holiday gift.

“I’d take care of all the details…the cleanup, the hiring, the prep.

We could use that big machine shed to store the…

leftovers. The only thing we might need from them is signatures.

But they could sit back and do nothing.”

My voice was rushed, but I couldn’t help it.

Right now, everything hinged on this space working.

Absolutely no other options, existed. If Frankie didn’t think this could work, we were done.

The wedding could not happen the way the couple wanted, I would lose my wages, and my business would officially close.

For the love of God, this had to work.

“I don’t know about this…” Frankie said, her arms crossed. “That’s a ton of work.”

I gritted my teeth. “ Please , Frankie. I’ll handle everything. You know me. If I put my mind to something, I’ll do literally everything to make it work.”

A scoff left Frankie’s mouth. A real, genuine scoff, enough where I flinched and took a step back like she’d flicked me on the forehead.

She dipped her head at me, her whiskey-brown eyes narrowing. “You must be joking.”

Heat filled my face. That tone was like a punch to the gut, a cross between condescending and incredulous, and I felt it directly in my core. I tossed a quick glance at Olivia and Tommy, who were thankfully in a quiet discussion out of earshot.

This right here was not about our past, what may have happened, who let who slip away all those years ago.

This was about my business and livelihood, not that Frankie knew that, and her family friend getting married.

I opened my mouth to snap something snarky back but instead pulled in a deep breath through my nose.

“Listen. Whatever history we have, right now, can we please bury it? I think this place is our last option. All I’m asking you to do is have a conversation with your aunt and uncle.” I twisted the rings on my fingers. “Please. Just ask them. Not for me, but for Tommy.”

Frankie tipped her head at Tommy and Olivia.

A moment passed, then two. Frankie nibbled on the inside of her cheek and finally her shoulders softened.

“Fine, I’ll talk to them,” she said. “But that’s it.

I want nothing to do with this after that.

I’ll let you know what they say, then after that I’ll see you in August.”