dining tables and a separate dance floor area. The cavernous, three-story-high room had wood wainscoting up to the windowsills and rough white plaster above. Tall windows let in plenty of light and all of the views surrounding the building.
As he turned to tell Anne he thought they should move this property to the top of the list, her cell phone rang.
“Please excuse me. I must take this call.” She stepped back into the entry hall.
To fill the time while Anne was on the phone, Meredith recounted a few events the venue had hosted over the years.
Even though Anne had stepped into the entryway, George could still hear her voice and see her from where he stood near the entrance of the ballroom.
“Hello, Amanda. How is the bride-to-be? Only four and a half days left.” Her posture and cheerful expression changed as she said, “Oh, honey, that’s just prewedding jitters. I’m sure he’ll—”
The caller interrupted her, and Anne’s shoulders slumped as she raised her right hand to rub her forehead. She squeezed her eyes closed and grimaced as she listened to her client. Her voice was low and soothing when she continued. “Sweetie, I understand you feel like you’re never going to be able to work this out, but I know David really loves you. Let’s not cancel anything until we have a chance to sit down and talk about it. What time does he get off work? Six? All right. I’ll tell you what. I’ll call him at work. I want both of you to come over to the office this evening, and we’ll sit down and discuss this. Okay, honey? You’re very emotional right now, and I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll end up regretting. I’ll see you tonight, sweetie.”
George was so focused on Anne that he started when Meredith cleared her throat. “She is very good at her job.”
“Yes, she is brilliant at her job.”
As he listened to Anne on the phone with the disgruntled groom, he realized that not only was she a wedding planner, but she was as close to a marriage counselor as some couples would ever have. Her caring came from having genuine feelings for the people she worked for, not just a concern for her business’s bottom line. He suspected that if she felt it would be in the clients’ best interest to call off the wedding, she’d be the first one to tell them so.
He asked God to forgive him for ever doubting Anne’s ability to plan this wedding. He just hoped when the time came and his true role was revealed, Anne would be able to forgive him, too.
Chapter 8
From the expression of pitying concern on George’s face, Anne knew he’d overheard her phone conversations. She should have walked farther away. Following George and Meredith out of Lafitte’s, she felt turmoil built up inside. If he had been checking up on her Saturday because he didn’t trust her ability to plan his wedding, she needed to know. She’d prove to him she could do this as well as or better than anyone else.
Her thoughts returned to her more pressing situation as George took pictures of Lafitte’s Landing with the digital camera in his PDA. She and Amanda had grown up together but had never really been friends until just a few years ago when they had run into each other at church. She’d been surprised when Amanda asked her to plan her wedding, knowing how tight finances were for the couple, as they were also purchasing a house.
What Amanda and David didn’t know was that for their wedding gift, Anne was providing her services for free. Through her connections in town, she’d gotten deep discounts on nearly everything for the rehearsal dinner, ceremony, and reception. She hadn’t asked them for a deposit check, and she was scheduled to have the final meeting with them tomorrow, when she planned on handing them her bill, marked PAID IN FULL.
Now she had to try to put all the pieces back together before her friends made a huge mistake by calling off their wedding. She wasn’t worried about the logistics of canceling an event with such short notice—she’d done it several times before. But she knew deep down that these two people were supposed to be married. She just had to get them to see that.
She nearly bumped into George when she walked out the front door.
“Thank you for your hospitality.” George shook hands with Meredith again. “I will speak with the bride by telephone tonight and hope to speak with you again tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Laurence. I hope your fiancée likes Lafitte’s Landing as much as you do.” Meredith turned to Anne. “I’ll see you later.”
Anne hugged her cousin. “Thanks for meeting us up here, Mere. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“I’m sure you will.”
Anne ignored the saucy gleam in Meredith’s eyes and followed George to the car.
A slight breeze rustled the top of the canopy of trees. The buzz of cicadas resonated in harmony with the sound of the lake in the background and the birds chirping overhead. Lafitte’s Landing was one of Anne’s favorite places, and she recommended it to nearly every client with a large guest list. The fact that it was owned by B-G Enterprises and she could count on Meredith’s help, as well as B-G’s executive chef, Major O’Hara, helped a lot.
In the car, she turned up the air conditioner and looked at her day planner. They had appointments to visit two additional sites down in the nearby town of Comeaux but weren’t scheduled to see the next one for nearly two more hours.
She fastened her seat belt and pulled out of the small parking lot. Her stomach clenched, reminding her that breakfast five hours ago had consisted of a banana and a small bowl of dry cereal, as she’d been out of milk.
Mr. Laurence—George—deserved to be able to stop for lunch, too. Just because she usually worked through lunch didn’t mean she had to force him to do the same.
“Do you like seafood, George?” She stopped at the end of Lafitte’s Landing’s long driveway. She waited for his answer, since it would determine which direction she turned.
“Yes. And I have heard that the seafood in Louisiana is incomparable.”
“Well, I think it’s pretty wonderful, but I don’t have much to compare it to.” She turned right and headed south instead of back toward her office.
After a few moments of silence, George asked, “Is planning an outdoor event more difficult than indoor?”
“Somewhat. There are more variables—more things that can go wrong, more safeguards and alternatives that need to be planned. It’s almost like planning two events in one.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Even though his posture was erect, his body language was relaxed, comfortable. She narrowed her eyes a little as she returned her focus to the road. She wanted to ask him why he’d been watching her Saturday morning, but the words wouldn’t leave her mouth.
“I’m very pleased with Lafitte’s Landing. I believe we’ve just secured the location for the engagement party. I’ll send my… Courtney a message.”
She glanced at him again and saw he was reviewing the digital pictures he’d taken of the location on the screen of his PDA. Whenever he spoke of Courtney, he tripped over her name. He never personalized the relationship—and if he ever did say “my,” he always stopped himself as if not wanting to commit to saying “my fiancée.”
Silence descended on them as she navigated lunch-hour traffic in midtown. Without thinking, she powered on the stereo.
Beside her, George started visibly when Dean Martin singing “That’s Amore” blasted through the speakers. Embarrassed, she fumbled with the buttons and turned it off again.
“No, don’t turn it off.” George reached over and turned it on again but adjusted the volume lower. “Not many people listen to Dean Martin these days.”
Her cheeks burned. Yet another example of how backward she was—she didn’t even listen to contemporary music.
“They just don’t make music like this anymore. It’s a shame, really.”
Was he serious or patronizing her? He’d leaned his head back against the headrest, and he looked fully relaxed. The CD moved to the next track, and he started to hum, then sing along with “Memories Are Made of
