I nodded. “Sounds good.” I wheeled my case into the bedroom. “How is everything going?”
“It was going well until Mom showed up.” She sighed and perched on the arm of the sofa. “I swear, I’m going to be Bridezilla in the next twenty-four hours if she doesn’t chill the fuck out.”
“Oh, God. I was afraid that would happen.”
Rosie shook her head. “Don’t. You’d think it was her wedding. She’s constantly trying to tweak things, and she forced me and Mark to have dinner with her last night.” She met my eyes. “It was torture. Pure torture. I texted Celia and made her fake Rory being sick just so I could get away.”
“And you left Mark with them?”
“Look. I’ve grown up with her picking. He’s marrying into it. Think of it like a warm-up.”
Cruel. So cruel.
“Then, this morning, she showed up at our suite when we were having breakfast. She freaked out that you were showing up today without your plus one, and because you were showing up alone, she’s certain your plus one will desert you and not come.” She ran her hand through her hair. “He is coming, isn’t he?”
“He said he was.” I shrugged. “I can’t reach up to Orlando and drag him down here, can I?”
“Oh God.”
“He’ll be here, okay? Don’t worry. I promise.”
Rosie stood and clasped my hands. “Phew. Okay. Will you call me when he arrives? I want to meet him.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “Do you need me to do anything?”
She shook her head. “Mom has your weekend itinerary. I’ll text Dad and see if he can get it from her to bring up to you, but if not, you can get it tonight. All you need to do is get your plus one here and show up in the Palm Ballroom for tonight’s pre-wedding reception, okay?”
A pre-wedding reception? Whose wedding was I attending—my sister’s or a British royal’s?
“Got it. What time?”
“Seven on the dot. Six-thirty would be even better.”
“I’ll be there at six,” I smiled wryly.
“You are the best!” She hugged me again. “Okay, I have to go find Celia and Rory. I promised her she could spend the afternoon on the beach since she’ll have Rory all night.”
Ah, yes. Their live-in cleaner-slash-nanny who was the most adorable woman. Not to mention she was from Alabama and made the best peach cobbler I’d ever tasted.
“Okay. No problem. I think Adam should be here in time for the party, but I can text him and check.”
“Okay, good. Cool. Awesome.” She took a deep breath. “This is the most peace I’ve had since yesterday morning.”
With that, she gave my hand one last squeeze and left me alone in the suite.
I pulled my phone out of my purse and texted Adam.
Me: Hey. Do you know what time you’ll be here?
His response came much quicker than I thought it would.
Adam: I was just about to text you. My meeting got canceled, so I left early. I’ll be there around four. Is that good?
Oh, thank God.
One: he’d be here in time for the party.
Two: he was still coming.
Me: Perfect. See you then!
Adam: See you then, Red.
CHAPTER FOUR – POPPY
Friday Night Frights
Adam: I’m in the parking lot. Which room are you in?
I texted him back the room and floor number and tossed my phone on the sofa. Butterflies fluttered through my stomach, and when I pressed my hands against my tummy, I realized I was nervous as hell.
I was insane. Truly, truly insane. Why did I ever think asking a one-night stand to be my weekend date was a good idea?
And why the hell was I nervous to see him? And why right this second, knowing he was here? I hadn’t felt this way all day. Granted, I’d spent the entire day on the beach with my nephew, Rory, and Rosie, but still.
Ughhh.
Every second that passed felt like a nightmare. Where was he? Was he on the elevator? Down the hall? Downstairs? Still in his car?
Three knocks sounded at the door. I jumped and stared at it for a minute before moving to open it.
He was just as handsome as I remembered him. That dark hair, that stubbled jaw, those bright eyes…
“Hey,” he said, voice dipping at the end of the word.
“Hi.” I smiled, my cheeks flushing a little, and opened the door completely wide. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” He stepped into the room and glanced around. “Nice. Great view, too.”
“Definitely. I think my sister is buttering me up for having to deal with our mom,” I said, grabbing my water off the table in the middle of the room. “The bedroom is through there. There’s a walk-in closet if you want to unpack.”
“Got it.” He pulled a slate-gray case into the bedroom. “Hey, Red. Do they do room service? I need a shower and I’m starving.”
“Yeah, they do. Want the menu?”
“I got it.” He strolled back into the room, pulling his shirt over his head. “Sorry. I’m sweaty.”