The Favor

The hotel wasn’t too far away, so it wasn’t long before we arrived. Miley met us at the door and informed us that all our guests were drinking cocktails in the large ballroom; they’d be escorted to the botanical garden once Dane and I were inside.

I was eager to get a good look at the indoor garden, but when we reached the grassy area that surrounded it, Floyd urged us from spot to spot while he took several shots of us in various poses.

I thought one in particular would turn out good. He’d directed Dane and I to indulge in another chaste kiss while Miley and Chris—who wouldn’t be seen on the photos—tossed autumn leaves over us like they were confetti.

Once Floyd announced he was done, Dane turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?”

“No, there’s a leaf stuck between my breasts.”

“Lucky leaf.”

Snickering, I pulled it out and let it flutter to the ground. “Better.”

He flicked a look at the botanical garden. “Ready?”

I nodded. “More than ready.” Linking arms with Dane, I crossed to the glass doors. Chris opened them and then stood back, allowing us to enter first. My breath caught in my throat. The place looked … enchanted.

The strings of tiny lights, garlands of leaves, and amber candles gave the room a warm, autumn-y glow. There was the same foliage in the floral arrangements as in my bouquet—berries, mini pumpkins, acorns, feathers, and leaves.

Some larger pumpkins were scattered around, and some had been painted black to match the lace on my dress. Gold and champagne accents gave the décor a little glitz and glam, and the purple up-lighting gave it a dynamic, romantic ambience that made every other color “pop.”

The tables were set up beautifully. Black glittering tablecloths, white draped chair covers, orange sashes on the chairs, autumn floral centerpieces, deep red napkins, and caramel apple favors.

And the two, tall escort card trees were just amazing. I wasn’t sure if the black, gnarled, fairytale-looking trees were fake or not, but blossoms, crystals, and escort cards hung from the branches—each guest had a card telling them their table number.

All in all, it looked like a magical fairy garden in the midst of autumn.

My throat thickening, I looked up at Dane. “This is just … I don’t have words.”

“Tell me you at least like it,” begged Chris, standing a few feet away with Miley.

I turned to the planners. “I love it. All of it. The pair of you are geniuses.”

They both smiled and nudged each other playfully.

“Ready for your guests?” asked Miley.

Dane nodded. “Bring them in.”

We weren’t originally going to greet the guests as they entered, but I figured it was a good way of ensuring I spoke to every person. So I said hello, accepted kisses on the cheek, and thanked people for coming as they trickled into the botanical garden.

Chris and Miley directed people to the correct card tree and told them on which numbered branch they’d find their card. The system worked well.

When Simon entered and got a good look at me, he swallowed hard. “Sweetheart, you look beyond beautiful.”

“And you look very smart in that tux,” I told him.

He lifted his chin. “I do scrub up well, don’t I?” He took my hands and gave them a little squeeze. “Maggie, Freddie, and even Deacon are all so happy for you.”

I smiled. “Love you, Dad. And I love them, too.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll want a dance later.” With that, he moved along.

Wyatt stepped toward me. His mouth curved, and his eyes watered. “Melinda was right, you’re a sight to behold,” he said a little gruffly.

“And you look … uncomfortable,” I said. “Handsome, but uncomfortable.”

He tugged at his collar. “I hate suits. You know that. Hate tuxes even more. Tell me there’s beer.”

“There’s beer.” I strongly suspected he’d yank off the black tie and pull open a few buttons once he’d downed some drinks.

“Chris is giving me the stink eye, so I’ll move along.” He kissed my cheek and then put his mouth to my ear. “Proud of you.” Then he disappeared.

Melinda and Junior came next. He gave me a cuddle and asked if there was cake. When I told him about the cookie bar, he flashed me the hugest grin.

I greeted several more people, including Hanna, Ashley, and Tucker. I also said my hellos to many of Dane’s colleagues, including an insanely hot guy who I’d quickly learned was Blake Mercier; he’d brought along his wife, Kensey, and their two-year-old son.

Soon, Travis, Hope, Kent, and Jen walked in. I nearly gasped because, oh God, Hope was wearing white. Did she have no shame? Okay, it wasn’t a wedding, but it was a wedding reception, so wearing white was in very poor taste.

I noted that she looked highly annoyed. I suspected that she’d thought I’d be wearing white and would, as such, be pissed at her choice of dress. Instead, I could only cross my eyes. The woman was a waste of space, much like her husband.