“Benjamin has friends everywhere,” he said, testing the pasta and calling it good.
“The point isn’t whether or not he has friends there. The point is I know what I heard,” I said, shredding furiously.
“Is it at all possible, and I’m just asking here,” he said, tossing the pasta with a little bit of the sauce and then pouring it all into a bowl, “that you didn’t hear her correctly?”
“No.” I shredded.
“Not at all possible?” he asked, setting the bowl down on the table and then going back for the meatballs. “No chance in the slightest.”
“Of course there’s a chance,” I said through gritted teeth. “I just know what I heard.”
“Well then, ask her. That’ll solve it, won’t it? Better than shredding your fingernails into that bowl,” he replied calmly, covering my hand with his and stopping me right before I did that very thing.
I looked down. I’d shredded the entire wedge.
“I can’t ask her, she’s depending on me,” I said, releasing the shredder and heading for the sink to wash my hands.
“She is, but she’s also your friend. If there’s a problem, she’d want to know about it, don’t you think?” he asked, pulling out my chair for me.
“She’s my friend, but she’s my boss first. And yes, I should probably talk to her,” I replied, sitting down and smiling briefly when he placed a kiss on my shoulder before sitting down across from me. “Dammit, I hate when you’re right.”
“That’s a lot of hating, then. I had no idea,” he teased, passing me the bowl with several pounds of grated Parmesan.
I took the bowl, and then showed him a particular finger.
For the record, they were amazing balls.
? ? ?
“Whole wheat pancakes, blueberry sauce, and a side of turkey sausage, please.”
“Egg white omelette with ham and green onions and a cup of berries, please.”
“Scrambled eggs, hash browns with no butter, rye toast. And could I also please get a grapefruit half?”
We sat at our regular table at the diner, Sophia and Mimi nursing extra big cups of coffee.
“Thanks for coming so early. I know you both like to sleep in on Saturdays,” I said, sipping on my own extra big cup. I had an art installation being set up today, and I knew it was going to be a day for extra caffeine.
“How’s it going over at the hotel? Think you’ll be able to slow down a bit when that’s all complete?” Mimi asked.
“Not likely. We’ve slowed down on some of our residential design to take on this project, but once that’s done, we’ve got clients who have literally put their remodels on hold a few months in order to work with us,” I said proudly. “But some of that depends on Jillian.”
“Still no word on when she’s coming back?”
“Nope, but let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about your wedding—how’s the planning coming?” I asked, changing the subject smoothly. I hadn’t made any progress on what I was going to say to Jillian about everything, unsure how to broach the subject, so I was eager to think about something else.
I could tell you Mimi had begun planning her wedding the day Ryan put a two-karat solitaire on her finger, but that would be a lie. She’d been planning it since she knew what a wedding was. She had notebooks and binders full of tear sheets that she’d been collecting over the years. Table settings, flowers, dresses, linens—you name it, she had it in a binder. Ryan didn’t ask any questions or make a single suggestion; he just sat back and let the Mimi Train run.
“It was so great seeing Jillian’s wedding, and how she planned. It gave me so many ideas, and really helped me to focus in on what I want and what I don’t want. If you’ll look here on page seventeen—”
She had a binder out on the table.
“—you can see how I’ll be capturing the light of the chapel to accentuate not only the soft pastel pinks and peaches of the flowers, but also to set off the natural golden tone of my skin.”
“Well, sure, but that depends on the time of day,” Sophia said, casting a mischievous look my way.
Mimi flipped her binder. “Based on the sun’s position in the sky that week, I’ve timed the ceremony to reflect as much light into the church as possible.” She pointed to a sun chart.
“Oh my God, I was kidding,” Sophia said, turning the binder around to see. “This is impressive, woman.”
“Thank you. You’ll also be glad to know that I took into account your skin tone and Caroline’s when I chose your dresses.”
“Our dresses? You chose our dresses?” Sophia asked.
“Hold up, you haven’t even officially asked us yet! Don’t you think you better choose us before you choose the dresses?” I snorted, passing the butter as the plates were set down.
“Please, like I need to ask. Obviously you’re both bridesmaids,” she scoffed, cutting her sausage into quarter-inch slices and centering them on either side of the plate.