“At the same place?” I ask her.
“Yes. They didn’t want anything big, so I suggested the manor. We have a divider for the big ballroom. Men on one side and women on the other. The bride and groom loved the idea.”
“So what needs to be done?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs. “I had my staff raise the divider after all the holiday parties, and the caterers will bring a variety of finger foods.”
“And you need to be there because?” I ask again.
“Because it’s my baby. I’ve put all my time and love into that manor since buying it over five years ago. I want to be there.”
“Grandma,” I say gently, “I understand your need to be there, but you have to take care of yourself. I’m here. Let me handle this. I’ll send you updates throughout the night. I’m taking my computer so I can work because it sounds as though there’s not going to be much for me to do.”
“What if something comes up that you don’t know the answer to?”
I hold up my cell phone. “There are these really cool devices they call cell phones. Turns out you can reach anyone anytime and anywhere by just dialing their number.” I reach over and grab hers from the coffee table. “Oh, look, you have one too.” I smirk, and she rolls her eyes.
“Fine. But I want you to call me when you get there and call me with updates. None of that texting nonsense. I want verbal communication on how everything is going.”
“Deal. I’ll even send you a few pictures.”
“That would be great.”
“Now, is there a particular dress code I need to follow for tonight?”
“No.”
“Good. I’m going to pack up my computer, and then I’ll head over there.”
“And what am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”
“You’re going to sit your rear end on the couch, with your leg propped up, and watch that series you keep telling me you want to watch but don’t have the time.” I point at her knee walker. “Use that. Don’t be a hero and injure yourself further.”
“I look like an old fool with that thing.”
“No, you look like a woman who broke her leg and needs to stay off it. Use it.” I point at the walker as I give her a stern look, and she reluctantly gives me a nod of acceptance.
“I want updates.”
“I promise.” With that, I rush to my room to grab my laptop and everything I’ll need to settle into work while the dual parties are in progress.
Thirty minutes later, I’m unlocking the doors to Willow Manor and stepping inside. Feeling around on the wall, I find the light switch and flip it up. The entire foyer illuminates with a soft white glow. My grandmother’s office is directly to the right. I step inside, turn on the light, and place my bag that contains my laptop and my purse on her desk. My cell phone rings, and I can’t help but laugh. I know it’s her calling me already. I don’t even bother to glance at the screen. “Hello.”
“You said you would call with updates.”
“Crazy woman, I just walked through the door.”
“Well, is anyone there?” she asks.
“Grandma, I literally just walked through the door. I had time to turn on the foyer lights, the lights in your office, and to place my bags on your desk before my phone rang. No one was in the parking lot. Just my car. Besides, you told me the parties start at seven. It’s only a few minutes after five. I’m really early.” I came early just to double-check everything and to get a break from her arguing about coming with me. I love the woman to pieces, but she’s a handful.
“Fine,” she grumbles. “The caterers are going to be there at six thirty, and the tables and dividers should be set up.”
“Got it.” I got it the first and the tenth times she reminded me, but hey, maybe the eleventh time is a charm.
“And they are bringing their own alcohol. They have assured me that they will have designated drivers.”
“That’s good. I’ll keep an eye out,” I tell her.
“What are you going to do until they arrive?”
This time I don’t hide my laughter. “I’m going to work.” In peace and quiet.
“Oh, well, all right, dear. Don’t work too hard.” With that, she ends the call. It’s as if she turned into a different person in the last few seconds of our call. In all of my twenty-five years, I’ve never been able to understand her crazy ways, but I love her all the same.
Placing my phone on the desk, I start unpacking my laptop. I’m in the middle of edits about a broody fireman and am anxious to get back to it. It’s a perk of the job to get to enjoy the first look at each story and help the authors make them the best that they can be. It’s really the best job in the world.
Once my laptop is booted up and I have the file open in front of me, I allow myself to get lost in my work. That’s why I jump out of my skin, well, really just the chair, but I jolt forty minutes later when the door to the manor opens. It’s not time for either party to arrive, and it’s too early for the caterers. I stand to greet whoever it might be, but before I can make it to the foyer, a tall, dark-haired figure appears in my doorway.
“Hey,” a deep husky voice greets me. “I’m Archer Kincaid. My mom said that Miss Maureen could use some help setting up,” he explains.
I smile and offer the gorgeous man my hand. I don’t know what Carol fed these boys growing up, but damn. “Hi, I’m Kennedy Edwards. Maureen is my grandmother and a snake.” I laugh.
“I’m not following,” he says, but he’s still smiling and holding on to my hand.
“She set you up. Well, I guess technically, she set us both up. Everything is done here. The caterers will be here at six thirty. The rooms are already good to go. Nothing needs to be done.”
“Why are you here this early?” he asks, finally releasing my hand.
“She was driving me crazy,” I confess, which causes him to laugh. “I work from home, and when she got hurt, I came to stay with her until she’s back on her feet. Literally. Anyway, I was just getting caught up on some work.”
“Well, I’m already here. Is there anything I can do?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I guess we can walk around and see if you think we need to add anything else or move anything around.”
“Let’s do it.” He peels off his jacket and holy arm porn. He’s wearing a tight-fitting long-sleeve T-shirt that tells me exactly what he’s hiding beneath the thin layer of cotton. Muscles, lots and lots of muscles. I roam my gaze over every inch of him before meeting his eyes, and he smirks.
“Come on,” I say, face red with embarrassment. I’m twenty-five, not fifteen. I need to stop acting like I’ve never seen a gorgeous man before. Besides, out of the three brothers I’ve met so far, if I had my choice, I’d choose Declan. He’s sexy, and I want to run my fingers through his hair. Archer has longer hair too, but it’s cut differently than Declan’s. Archer’s is shorter on the sides, whereas Declan’s is more like Brooks’s. Long all over, just not as messy as his brother’s.