Fool for You (Southern Bride 7)

“I was in charge of the decorations. All of them. What if they suck?” she asked.

I stepped out of the limo and then turned back to help her out. There were a few people off to the side, most likely hoping to see someone famous. Sometimes these charity events did attract an actor or singer. Someone snapped a few photos as I helped Emmerson out.

“You drove down here a few days ago and made sure it was all set. Stop worrying,” I whispered as we started to head toward the entrance of the country club.

She paused and pulled on my hand, forcing me to stop. “How did you know I came to Austin?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. You probably told me.”

“No, I didn’t tell you. We haven’t really talked much over the last week and a half, and you’d just come back from Vegas when I was here.”

“Clearly I heard it from someone.” I tugged at her hand. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice about telling her I saw it on her Instagram, but considering how often I checked it the last few weeks, I was afraid she’d somehow be able to tell I was following her every move. She had posted about the charity dinner and auction, and had given a few teaser photos of how the tables would be decorated. “Come on, it’s starting to get chilly out. Is a cold front moving through?”

Emmerson stared at me as we walked up the grand steps of the country club.

“Mr. Lewis and Ms. Wallace,” I said to the doorman who was holding the guest list.

He glanced up and immediately looked at Emmerson and smiled. “Yes, um, Ms. Wallace, I was told to tell you everything is in place and ready. And to, ah, well, to ask you if you could do a quick walk-through before guests start to arrive.”

Emmerson gave him a warm smile, and I swore the little bastard winked at her.

“Did he wink at you?” I asked as we started down the marble-floored hallway.

With a giggle, she said, “I doubt it. Come on, I’m dying to see the ballroom.”

I glanced over my shoulder to see the asshole watching us walk away. When his eyes met mine, he quickly faced forward.

Little prick.

A few people stopped us as we made our way to the main ballroom—mostly other committee members, from what I could tell. There was a gentleman around my age standing next to Janet Monroe, and he reached out his hand for mine to shake.

“Another bachelor they’re putting on the block, I take it?” he asked.

“I am. Are you a victim as well?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes—name’s Nick Monroe. Janet’s my older sister, and she threatened me with secrets I’d thought she’d long forgotten if I didn’t participate.”

We all laughed except for Janet who shot her brother a smirk. “Like you’re not the least bit curious what you’ll bring in?” she asked.

Nick smirked back as he causally lifted one shoulder. “As long as I’m not expected to fuck anyone.”

Emmerson gasped and then covered her mouth to keep from laughing.

Janet hit her brother across the back of his head. “It’s one night and one dinner only! You’re an actor, just act like you’re enjoying it. Especially if you get more than the five thousand starting bid.”

“Five thousand!” Nick and I said at the same time.

“Do many guys get over five?” I asked.

“The highest we’ve ever had was seven thousand,” Janet answered.

Turning to Emmerson, I whispered in her ear, “If some old woman or a man bids on me, I give you permission to go as high as twenty thousand. I’ll front the money, just don’t let them get me.”

She swatted at my chest, “I’m heading into the room. I want to make sure the tables all look right.”

Janet’s face erupted into a wide grin. “Oh, Emmerson, they look beautiful. They match the sample table you did up the other day exactly.”

That sample table was what she had shared a photo of. Or at least part of it, anyway. My little Emme, always wanting to be in control somehow. No wonder she made such a good wedding planner.

She took my hand and led me through two large double doors, and I swore we stepped into another world when we walked into the ballroom.

“Holy shit,” I whispered as I looked around. “You did this, Emme?”

She took in the entirety of the room with her eyes as she nodded. “Yes, I came up with the design layout.”

Soft white fabric was draped across the ceiling of the ballroom, with elegant chandlers sprinkled throughout. White tables were decorated with large and small hurricane lamps, which held white candles and a spray of what looked like blue snow inside. The chairs had white covers on them with blue sashes that matched the shade in the hurricane lamps. The larger tables housed small potted trees in the middle with the hurricane lamps on both sides. Fine crystal glasses and silver flatware dressed each table. Scattered throughout the room were large candleholders with pearl strands that mimicked the sway of the fabric above.