for the perfect place."
We headed back to Daniel's, and I was suddenly grateful for the key he'd left me with. The doorman smiled and nodded in recognition as we walked past. Once we were inside, Lindsey made a bee-line for the fridge and poured herself a glass of juice. She was infinitely more at home in the place than I felt.
"Now, where does Dan keep his laptop?" she wanted to know.
Oh, shit .
"Um…it's hard to say, he kind of takes it all over the place with him," I fibbed. God, I had no idea.
"Well, we'll just have to search then. Why don't you check the bedroom? I'll look down here."
I was halfway up the stairs before I remembered the very obviously lived-in guest room down there.
Shit, shit, shit .
I had to keep going. I couldn't act suspicious, or like we were hiding anything. If she said something, I'd just explain that I wasn't…used to sleeping in a bed with someone else? Maybe? Oh God, would I be able to say it with a straight face? My face was already burning.
I searched through the bedroom blindly. There could have been ten laptops in there and I might not have noticed. I came back down the stairs slowly, empty-handed of course, and saw Lindsey standing the middle of the hallway, looking confused. Hopefully just because she couldn’t find anything.
Or…not.
"Hey," she said. "So did you guys - have someone over recently?"
I tried to pretend like I was confused for a moment. "Oh! You mean, in the guest room? That's my stuff." My own voice sounded like a strange, distant echo in my head. My heart was pounding. "I'm just not used to sleeping in the same bed with somebody, you know?"
There was a beat of silence.
"Oh, of course," said Lindsey. "I was the same way with Ray at first. I'd never spend the night with him when we first got together, it drove him crazy."
"I'm glad you know what I'm talking about," I said, feeling my anxiety level ratchet down a few notches. "Some people would think it's weird."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Whatever you've got to do. Did you have any luck up there?"
"No," I said. "But, I'll go look again. I actually forgot to check in the closet. He keeps his laptop bag in there, maybe it's still packed up."
I had no idea if any of this was true, but I needed an excuse to go back and actually check the bedroom now that my brain was functioning again.
And a good thing, too - it was sitting on the dresser, in plain sight. Lindsey would have thought I was the biggest flake in the world.
"Found it," I called out, coming down the stairs.
"Oh, fantastic. Let's see what we can find."
Pretty soon, we'd pulled up every wedding vendor list, registry, and search result in the entire city. My head was swimming, but Lindsey seemed to be digesting the information just fine, taking copious notes in a little pad that she'd produced from somewhere. Another family trait, it seemed.
"All right," she said, after what felt like hours. "So I've eliminated every place that we definitely don't want, which leaves us with about twenty choices. Personally, I'm a big fan of the art gallery. Have you ever been there?"
I shook my head.
"Oh, my God, we have to go," she said. "They're closed today, but soon. It's absolutely gorgeous. Of course you have to hire their overpriced caterers, but they'll take care of absolutely everything. And there's no cake-cutting fee." She rolled her eyes.
"Cake-cutting fee?" I stared at her. "Is that…is that a thing?"
"Trust me," she said. "They'll nickel and dime you for everything in this industry. You've got to keep your wits about you."
There was so much I didn't know, and simply didn't have the desire or motivation to figure out. I didn't know what I would have done without Lindsey. Hire a wedding planner, I supposed. I'd almost forgotten for a moment that it was easy enough to solve these sorts of problems just by tossing more money at them.
"Lindsey," I said, straightening up on the sofa, "can I ask you something
We headed back to Daniel's, and I was suddenly grateful for the key he'd left me with. The doorman smiled and nodded in recognition as we walked past. Once we were inside, Lindsey made a bee-line for the fridge and poured herself a glass of juice. She was infinitely more at home in the place than I felt.
"Now, where does Dan keep his laptop?" she wanted to know.
Oh, shit .
"Um…it's hard to say, he kind of takes it all over the place with him," I fibbed. God, I had no idea.
"Well, we'll just have to search then. Why don't you check the bedroom? I'll look down here."
I was halfway up the stairs before I remembered the very obviously lived-in guest room down there.
Shit, shit, shit .
I had to keep going. I couldn't act suspicious, or like we were hiding anything. If she said something, I'd just explain that I wasn't…used to sleeping in a bed with someone else? Maybe? Oh God, would I be able to say it with a straight face? My face was already burning.
I searched through the bedroom blindly. There could have been ten laptops in there and I might not have noticed. I came back down the stairs slowly, empty-handed of course, and saw Lindsey standing the middle of the hallway, looking confused. Hopefully just because she couldn’t find anything.
Or…not.
"Hey," she said. "So did you guys - have someone over recently?"
I tried to pretend like I was confused for a moment. "Oh! You mean, in the guest room? That's my stuff." My own voice sounded like a strange, distant echo in my head. My heart was pounding. "I'm just not used to sleeping in the same bed with somebody, you know?"
There was a beat of silence.
"Oh, of course," said Lindsey. "I was the same way with Ray at first. I'd never spend the night with him when we first got together, it drove him crazy."
"I'm glad you know what I'm talking about," I said, feeling my anxiety level ratchet down a few notches. "Some people would think it's weird."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Whatever you've got to do. Did you have any luck up there?"
"No," I said. "But, I'll go look again. I actually forgot to check in the closet. He keeps his laptop bag in there, maybe it's still packed up."
I had no idea if any of this was true, but I needed an excuse to go back and actually check the bedroom now that my brain was functioning again.
And a good thing, too - it was sitting on the dresser, in plain sight. Lindsey would have thought I was the biggest flake in the world.
"Found it," I called out, coming down the stairs.
"Oh, fantastic. Let's see what we can find."
Pretty soon, we'd pulled up every wedding vendor list, registry, and search result in the entire city. My head was swimming, but Lindsey seemed to be digesting the information just fine, taking copious notes in a little pad that she'd produced from somewhere. Another family trait, it seemed.
"All right," she said, after what felt like hours. "So I've eliminated every place that we definitely don't want, which leaves us with about twenty choices. Personally, I'm a big fan of the art gallery. Have you ever been there?"
I shook my head.
"Oh, my God, we have to go," she said. "They're closed today, but soon. It's absolutely gorgeous. Of course you have to hire their overpriced caterers, but they'll take care of absolutely everything. And there's no cake-cutting fee." She rolled her eyes.
"Cake-cutting fee?" I stared at her. "Is that…is that a thing?"
"Trust me," she said. "They'll nickel and dime you for everything in this industry. You've got to keep your wits about you."
There was so much I didn't know, and simply didn't have the desire or motivation to figure out. I didn't know what I would have done without Lindsey. Hire a wedding planner, I supposed. I'd almost forgotten for a moment that it was easy enough to solve these sorts of problems just by tossing more money at them.
"Lindsey," I said, straightening up on the sofa, "can I ask you something
Similar Books
