Unexpectedly You (3 page)

Chapter Four

Nate

I know I’m going to regret this. Huge. But Brooke, miss Strawberry-
Blond herself, starts work today. I knew she was desperate for the job, and I totally feel responsible for making her botch her interview. She totally bailed me out the other night, so really, pushing for her to be hired was the least I could do. I really need to stop taking my pissy moods out on the people around me. If I
recognized
my pissy moods in the middle of them, it might be easier. At least I dodged the bullet of not only Tish, but going out with my brother. Those hangovers tend to last for days.

“You actually look nice.” Mom’s brows go up as she enters her office, tugging down the bottom of her Armani blazer.
An “investment” for her new client.

I glance down at my skinny slacks, narrow tie and white shirt. Simple enough. “You said that New-Girl and I have the preliminary meeting for the Cassock/Little wedding.” As much as I wish I didn’t give a shit, I also don’t want to come off as an asshole slacker.
Also, Brooke is prettier than I remembered from our first meeting, and even though she’s not my type, I don’t need her thinking I’m some slouch living in his high school bedroom… Though that’s exactly what I am.

Mom gives a slow nod as if she’s still suspicious. I do dress nice for the actual weddings. She shouldn’t be so surprised. “You do…”

“Just because I think this job is…” I want to say stupid or ridiculous, but I hold it in. “…not what I want to do with my life, doesn’t mean I can’t rock it while I’m here.” I give her a wink.

“Okay then.” Mom purses her lips. “The bride and I are going to tour a few locations today. She’s a big client so I don’t want to be bothered unless it’s an emergency.”

“I’m aware of who she is.” It’s a six-figure wedding. And the six figures don’t start with a one. I wouldn’t call Mom even if I were headed to the ER.

Mom pauses again as if she still doesn’t trust me. “Be nice to
Brooke, and I’m expecting to hear from your brother. Don’t be rude if he calls.”

I give her a salute as she steps toward the door and is nearly plowed over by Brooke as she dashes in the front door.

“Hello…Brooke.” Mom holds out her fish handshake.

“Hello Ms. Marks.” Brooke
arm is rigid down to her fingertips. “Thank you so much. I promise I’m normally at least fifteen minutes early, and—”

“Then you’ll be here thirty minutes before Nathaniel… Or s
everal hours if he’s doing his ‘art’ on the laptop.” Mom throws me a quick look. “He’ll be working with you today. Good luck and I might catch you before you leave this evening.”

Mom does the fake smile thing she does when she’s not sure about something and clicks her way out the door.

“Hey there,” I say. “Ready to start over?”

Brooke freezes as our eyes meet and gives me a look with a sort of stunned face.

“Brooke?”

“Oh.” She cringes as she shifts her briefcase. “Hi. Sorry. I had one of those Murphy’s Law mornings, you know?”

“No,” I deadpan.

Her face falls flat. “Really? Or are you just giving me shit again?”

“Just giving you shit.” I give her a mock scolding face with a little frown. “Is that appropriate language for the workplace?”

“Will working with you always be this annoying?” she quips back.

“You’re pretty full of attitude with this being your first day and all.” I grin.

She cocks a brow and shifts to one hip, but the way she does it makes me think it’s rehearsed, like she practiced before she came. It looks…forced, and I’m getting a kick out of it.

“Says the man who needed help ditching his date?” she asks.

“Fair enough.” I hold out my hand and we shake.

Just then the phone on the front desk rings, and I step aside and gesture for her to go ahead. “Job starts now.”

She leaps forward and then stops, her hand hovering over the phone. “What’s the greeting?”

I can’t help but harass her again. “A Marks Weddings and Events. This is Brooke. What can I do for you? Blowjob? Handjob? Back alley transaction?”

She frowns and then glares before pausing and answering the phone, only stopping
the greeting before the blowjob part. She’s good.

I flip the phone on speaker because we get a lot of strange requests, and she might not know how to handle it.

“Hi, I’m Jeanette and my fiancé and I are eloping to Vegas next month, and I know this is short notice, but we were hoping someone there could help us plan the elopement?” It’s typical nervous bride voice that gets higher at the end of the sentence with a tinge of excited desperation.

Brooke has the most perfect confused face as she tilts her head to face me and mouths, “
Plan
? An
Elopement
?”

I nod and mouth back, “We do this a lot.
Super easy. Quick money.”

“So…” Brooke sounds a bit unsure now. It probably doesn’t help that this is a crazy request (or I used to think it was a crazy request until we did a bunch of them)
and
she doesn’t trust me. “So…you need help planning your…elopement?”

“Yes.”

Brooke’s face shifts again to be more determined. She is so easy to read I think she might actually be a lot of fun. “What date are you thinking of?”

“The twenty-fourth?” The girl’s voice sounds both unsure and hopeful.

“Give me a moment to check with my assistant.” Brooke throws me a look, and I have to appreciate the way she tosses my crap back to me.

I scan over the calendar on the computer and hit the hold button on the phone.

“Okay,” Brooke starts. “I’m not crazy in thinking it’s strange to
plan
an elopement, right?”

“I’m with you. If I eloped, it would be spontaneous and fun. Actually… I can’t imagine getting married after… I just don’t plan on getting married.” Can’t believe I almost let that slip.

“Strange job for you, then.”

Viv’s
pale face and deep eyes are all I see, so I snap my head away from Brooke and stare at the calendar. “We can do the weekend after.” I point. “The stars and asterix are for wedding size and account price. Both weddings the weekend she wants are a full five stars, so there’s no way we can help her that weekend.”

“How much is that?” she asks. “I mean, what are people spending on a wedding with five stars?”

“Six figures.”

Brooke coughs.

“I know.” I widen my eyes. “And in a town where Elvis can marry you in your car for a hundred bucks.”

“Romantic.” She rolls her eyes.

“It has nothing to do with the money and everything to do with the feeling between the couple.” I snap my mouth shut as soon as the words are out. Working with her is one thing, letting her in on anything personal is not going to happen.

Her green eyes float over my face for a moment before she picks the phone up and starts in again with her chipper professional voice. I already know she’ll be sort of perfect for this job, but she’s too easy to be around. I don’t need anyone else giving me the pity face.

She hangs up the phone with a smile and two pages of notes on an iPad I didn’t see her take out of her bag. “So. Do you show me around now, or…?”

I glance at my phone. “Nope. Our
ten o’clock will be here any minute.”

“A client?” A brief wave of fear passes
through her eyes but is quickly replaced by determination. “Yes. Of course. I’m fine. Good. Best way to learn is by doing. Right?”

“It’s not a six-figure wedding, but it is a big deal.”

“I’ll just follow your lead then.”

I smooth down my tie, even though my shirt isn’t buttoned to the top.
I can’t breathe when I’m buttoned all the way up. “Sounds good.”

I pull out the laptop and go to Mom’s PowerPoint of themed ideas. Mom’s been doing this for as long as I can remember. It started with my friends’ birthday parties and bah mitzvahs and then engagement parties, bridal showers, big anniversaries and a few scattered weddings, which turned into more, which turned into more…

The biggest thing I learned is that flattery will make a bigger sale almost every. Single. Time.

The door opens to reveal a medium build
blond next to a goddess-like brunette. Drop-dead gorgeous—tall, lithe, toned without being too muscular. Small nose, bright blue eyes. Dressed well, but not too high-maintenance because her nails aren’t done. She looks so much like Viv that I stop for a moment before taking a breath.
This
is the kind of girl I should be hanging out with, not the practical teenagers from the other night.

Please let her be the bridesmaid, please let her be the bridesmaid, please let her be the bridesmaid…

“I’m Chantele.” The blond sticks out her hand, which I shake. “And this is my maid of honor, Darrian.”

Yes
. “I’m Nathaniel Marks and this is my
assistant
…” I even hold in my smirk. “…Brooke.”

“Nathaniel,”
Darrian says. “That’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

Brooke gives me a sideways glance at the way I let my whole name slide, which I ignore.

“So, t
his is what Ms. Marks has set up for you so far.” I spin my laptop around for the girls to scroll through the different ideas for the garden-land-gag-me-flowery thing that Chantele is after. The two ooo and aah as Brooke types up a few notes as to favorites and possible adjustments.

“So, Nathaniel.”
Darrian’s blue eyes find mine. “How did you get into wedding planning?”

“I’m a photographer, actually.” I rest my elbows on the table, inching just a little closer to her. “NYU. I’m back here for a while helping out my mother for a semester.”
Or until I figure out how to live in the same city as the girl who broke my heart, which may be never. New York isn’t big enough for both of us. Not yet.

“Wow.” She leans forward
, resting her arms on the table between us as well. I’m not sure if Brooke and Chantele are chatting or watching, and it doesn’t much matter in this moment.

“Always been my thing.”

Brooke clears her throat softly, which is such a twitch of hers I almost comment, but don’t move because I’d really like Darrian to think all my attention is on her.

“How long are you ladies in town for?”

“Darrian goes home after the weekend.” Chantele sighs. “But I live here.”

“Oh, perfect.” I give
Chantele my best salesman smile. “I remember mention of booking hotel rooms for family, so I assumed you lived out of town as well.”

“Will you be the one showing us maybe a few venues?”
Darrian asks.

I really want to say yes. Wish I could. “No. My mother is very specific that she be the one to do that job.”

“Bummer.” Darrian fingers the bottom of her long hair. “I was kind of hoping it would be you.”

I’m so in.
So
. In. And this time I’m not going to back down. It’s for fun. I can totally do this. “Well… I’m around. Maybe we could get together at some point and check out a few clubs for the bachelorette party.” I’m totally playing this, holding my breath, in hopes it’ll work.

“I don’t know…”
Chantele bites on the end of a nail.

“Definitely.”
Darrian grabs a card from the cardholder and writes her number on the back. “Give me call if you’re up for it, since planning that party is my job.”

“Okay.” I stand
, realizing that Darrian and I have sort of taken over the conversation and knowing the appointment has already gone long. I turn toward Chantele. “Keep thinking on what I showed you, and Brooke will forward all of what you saw in an email while you make decisions. When you tour locations, you can be keeping all of that in mind to help the wedding feel cohesive in the end.”

“You’re awesome, Nathaniel.”
Chantele gives a wave as she walks out, but I’m staring at the back of Darrian, her hair swinging behind her. Her jeans showing every curve of every muscle on her perfectly slim legs knowing that if she gives me one last look I can call her. One last look. One glance. Anything.

And just before the door shuts, she smiles over her shoulder, and I give her a quick wave.

Brooke snorts as I sit. “I suppose that’s your type then?”

“That, Brooke…” I sigh as I lean back in the office chair and rest my hands behind my head. “…is everyone’s type.”

Brooke makes a frown of disgust, but her features are so small that it contorts her whole face. “A nice set of cheekbones and perfect hair doesn’t make a girl everyone’s type.”

“She had cheekbones?” I tease.

Brooke rolls her eyes.

“Also,” I continue. “That face you just made was very interesting. You should try to recreate it
in front of the mirror. Great entertainment.”

Her eyes narrow slightly but the rest of her face goes flat like she suddenly won’t be pulled into my games.