wedding planning firm.
“Dream Wedding Associates,” a woman answered. “This is Charlotte speaking. How may I help you today?”
“I need to speak to the director right now .”
“Um...” She paused. “Well, she’s currently busy at the moment, but if you give me your name I can have her get back to you.”
“Jonathan Statham.”
She gasped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Statham. I’ll connect you right away.”
The phone rang two times before a woman with a high pitched voice answered. “This is Miss Corwin. Who am I speaking to this afternoon?”
“Jonathan Statham.”
“Oh! Mr. Statham!” Her pitch rose even higher. “I am so excited and honored that you chose me to coordinate your wedding! I promise that it will be the wedding of the year ! It’s going to be the best one I’ve ever done!”
“So my fiancée has booked an appointment with you?”
“Of course she has.” She sounded confused. “I’m scheduled to meet with the both of you...” There were papers rattling the background. “Next Thursday at six. She told me how you feel about the tiny details, so she and I are going to meet Friday to go over those alone. But all the bones—colors, location, date, et cetera—will be discussed Thursday. I am so excited! I can’t wait!”
“Me either.” I narrowed my eyes at the picture Ryan had sent to Claire earlier—the picture I’d left on my dashboard. “As a matter of fact, I need to ask you a few more questions...”
Chapter 5
C laire
Across and forward...Backwards and across...Across and forward...
I weaved my needle through the lampshade, trying to make the stitches as neat as possible. I’d been locked inside my office all day, sewing order after order.
Since one of my handmade lampshades had been featured in a national magazine last week, I’d had to hire three more people to fill all the incoming requests. I’d even considered shutting down the store for a couple days to finish, but all my staff members offered to stay late and help.
“Miss Gracen?” Rita’s voice came over the intercom. “Lisa and Sam are heading home for the day and your fiancée is on line one.”
“Thank you.” I picked up the phone. “Yes, Jonathan?”
“Come home.”
“I will, right after this last piece. I only have twelve more patches to sew.”
“It’s eight o’ clock , Claire. Come home now .”
I sighed. “You can’t give me fifteen more minutes?”
“ No . Now.” He hung up.
I rolled my eyes and picked up my needle again, sticking it through the bottom. I’d accidentally used the wrong fabric earlier and I needed to finish it for a customer pick-up tomorrow.
I’ll explain it to him later...
When I was halfway done, there was a light knock at my door.
“Come in,” I said, still focused on my project.
“Miss Gracen.” Greg’s deep voice made me look up. “Mr. Statham is adamant about me bringing you home right now.”
“Is something wrong?”
“He just wants you home.” He held the door open and gestured for me to stand up. “Non-negotiable.”
Sighing, I called Rita to thank her for staying so late. Then I grabbed my blazer and walked out front—tossing the store’s keys to her on my way out.
Greg opened the backdoor of the town car and waited until I was comfortable before pulling off.
“Greg?” I cleared my throat.
“Yes, Miss Gracen?” He looked at me through the rearview mirror.
“How long have you been working for Jonathan?”
“Since he first started his company.”
“Did he treat all his girlfriends like this? Make them drop whatever they were doing just because he wanted to see them?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“But you chauffeured them around too, right? Those few serious girlfriends that he had?”
“ Miss Gracen ...”
“I’m just trying to make conversation to get my mind off the fact that he just demanded that I come home. That’s all.”
“Of course.” He pulled the car onto the highway ramp and turned the music
“Dream Wedding Associates,” a woman answered. “This is Charlotte speaking. How may I help you today?”
“I need to speak to the director right now .”
“Um...” She paused. “Well, she’s currently busy at the moment, but if you give me your name I can have her get back to you.”
“Jonathan Statham.”
She gasped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Statham. I’ll connect you right away.”
The phone rang two times before a woman with a high pitched voice answered. “This is Miss Corwin. Who am I speaking to this afternoon?”
“Jonathan Statham.”
“Oh! Mr. Statham!” Her pitch rose even higher. “I am so excited and honored that you chose me to coordinate your wedding! I promise that it will be the wedding of the year ! It’s going to be the best one I’ve ever done!”
“So my fiancée has booked an appointment with you?”
“Of course she has.” She sounded confused. “I’m scheduled to meet with the both of you...” There were papers rattling the background. “Next Thursday at six. She told me how you feel about the tiny details, so she and I are going to meet Friday to go over those alone. But all the bones—colors, location, date, et cetera—will be discussed Thursday. I am so excited! I can’t wait!”
“Me either.” I narrowed my eyes at the picture Ryan had sent to Claire earlier—the picture I’d left on my dashboard. “As a matter of fact, I need to ask you a few more questions...”
Chapter 5
C laire
Across and forward...Backwards and across...Across and forward...
I weaved my needle through the lampshade, trying to make the stitches as neat as possible. I’d been locked inside my office all day, sewing order after order.
Since one of my handmade lampshades had been featured in a national magazine last week, I’d had to hire three more people to fill all the incoming requests. I’d even considered shutting down the store for a couple days to finish, but all my staff members offered to stay late and help.
“Miss Gracen?” Rita’s voice came over the intercom. “Lisa and Sam are heading home for the day and your fiancée is on line one.”
“Thank you.” I picked up the phone. “Yes, Jonathan?”
“Come home.”
“I will, right after this last piece. I only have twelve more patches to sew.”
“It’s eight o’ clock , Claire. Come home now .”
I sighed. “You can’t give me fifteen more minutes?”
“ No . Now.” He hung up.
I rolled my eyes and picked up my needle again, sticking it through the bottom. I’d accidentally used the wrong fabric earlier and I needed to finish it for a customer pick-up tomorrow.
I’ll explain it to him later...
When I was halfway done, there was a light knock at my door.
“Come in,” I said, still focused on my project.
“Miss Gracen.” Greg’s deep voice made me look up. “Mr. Statham is adamant about me bringing you home right now.”
“Is something wrong?”
“He just wants you home.” He held the door open and gestured for me to stand up. “Non-negotiable.”
Sighing, I called Rita to thank her for staying so late. Then I grabbed my blazer and walked out front—tossing the store’s keys to her on my way out.
Greg opened the backdoor of the town car and waited until I was comfortable before pulling off.
“Greg?” I cleared my throat.
“Yes, Miss Gracen?” He looked at me through the rearview mirror.
“How long have you been working for Jonathan?”
“Since he first started his company.”
“Did he treat all his girlfriends like this? Make them drop whatever they were doing just because he wanted to see them?”
“No.” He shook his head.
“But you chauffeured them around too, right? Those few serious girlfriends that he had?”
“ Miss Gracen ...”
“I’m just trying to make conversation to get my mind off the fact that he just demanded that I come home. That’s all.”
“Of course.” He pulled the car onto the highway ramp and turned the music
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