She wrinkles her nose and I wait for the blast, but she deflates into a whiny baby. “Lori, I just want everything seamless. I don’t want the world to be disappointed. I want my fans to think I knocked it out of the park, not half-assed it because I had too much rosé the night before. My whole life I’ve been a screwup and this is the first thing I’ve done right.”
“Hey, that’s not true. I saw the wet tee shirt contest footage. You were amazing,” I tease and she covers her face to hide the laughing.
“I hate you.”
“You don’t. At all. Come here,” I pat the sofa.
She walks over, defeated but still anxious. She snuggles in, smelling me. I hate it when she does that but I let it happen.
“It’s your wedding, Sami. Yours. The people who need to think it was perfect are you and Nat ‘cause we both know us guys are nothing but decorations.”
“At least you know your place, Lori,” Nat says.
“I do. I also know you’re running yourself ragged, Sami, and for what? So you can ruin your happy day with some bullshit brand you’ll be working on for the rest of your life? Is that worth hating your wedding?”
“But—”
“No buts. You’re going to see this day as a job, part of your work. And that critical eye will ruin everything by second guessing your choices instead of sitting back and having fun. Trust the decisions you’ve made and let them be enough.”
“Another one for Lori.” Nat strikes the air as if she’s tallying points. “How did you get so smart for such a cute guy?”
“Focus, Nat.” I wrap an arm around Sami and force her head onto my shoulder. It’s my turn to smell her. “The rooms are perfect. The farm is stunning. The food is outrageously good. The drinks have been some of the best I’ve ever had. The guests are hand selected and the exact people you want here to share in this magic. You worked so hard to plan every detail, trust your instincts. You hired all the right people and they are rocking this job and no longer need you. So it’s time now to let the cameras catch you enjoying the fruits of your labor.”
“He’s right again,” Nat says with a little taunting song in her voice.
“I’m always right.”
“We’ve all been trying to tell you this.” Nat lifts her eyebrows. “You’ll be haggard on your wedding day at this rate. We need a spa day. Everyone is meeting us there at one.”
Sami pouts, not relenting.
Taking a deep breath, I decide the time for asking is over. She needs to be told. “You want the world to see that hard work pays off and the reward is the next three days being bliss.” I climb off the couch and drag her with me. “So I am telling you now, go and enjoy that spa day you have planned. Relax and have fun. Real fun. And if the cameras catch it, cool. If not, fuck it. You don’t exist for your fans. You think I play hockey for everyone in the rink screaming at me? No. I play because I love the game.”
“Amen!” Nat raises a hand with a chip coated in queso.
“What are you saying amen to? Get your ass off the sofa.” I snap my fingers at Nat impatiently. “Nat, seriously, chips down. Sami’s ready for spa day,” I bark.
Nat scrambles up and grabs Sami’s hand.
“When you look back on this, Sami, what do you want to remember? Planning nonstop or smiling and laughing and eating and enjoying? And you also need to ask yourself if you planned this for us or for you. Because we’re having a sweet time and you’re in your room yelling at insect people.” I cock an eyebrow.
“Fine.” Sami loses her fight. “You’re right.”
“Do not let her plan or stress one bit. Every one of us has a friggin' itinerary. There isn’t a second that isn’t planned. It will be perfect. Fun. Relax. Enjoy.” I point at Nat. “Don’t fuck this up.”
“Yes, sir!” Nat’s lips turn up into a wide smile. “Have fun fishing.” She obviously knows we’re going paintballing but keeps the lie. She winks at me as we walk out and they get into their golf cart.
“Have fun, girls.” I wave as they drive off, relieved it went as well as it did but certain there will be five more pep talks before this is all over.
The sound of another golf cart comes around the corner as Sami and Nat disappear. “How’d it go?” Brady asks as Matt parks it.
“Good. She’s off to the spa. I might have convinced her to settle down.” I pause and stare at them. “Were you hiding in the woods waiting for them to leave?”
“No.” Brady scoffs but Matt nods.
“Maybe it’s time you pop your balls out, Brady—”
“How is she?” Matt has no time for our shit.
“Good, ish. But I also think we’ll be back at her by tonight. She wants to control every aspect even though she’s hired perfectly capable people and overexplained her vision.” I have to grin at the misery on his face. “Ready for paintball?”
“Fuck you, Lori,” he says with a laugh and we’ve clearly won. Paintball is on.
“You are grumpy.” Brady elbows him in the ribs. “I’m on your team, Matty. Look at the cranky face.”
Matt growls.
“We should have brought our cups. He’s gonna shoot us in the dick.” I climb into my golf cart and follow them as Brady woohoos and whistles all the way to the course.
When we get there, it’s packed with the team and Matt’s family. The hillbillies are raring to go with all their own equipment. And I see why. The course is as epic as was sold to us. It’s huge, has to be two acres, at least.
