Page 30 of To Have and to Scold

“Most important day?” His laugh holds disbelief, and he shakes his head. “I’d say all the days after, when you can keep showing up and prioritizing the relationship, are more important than the actual day.” At my scowl, he raises his hands in a stop motion. “I guess the actual day is important, too. The symbolism and all.”

“I don’t disagree that marriage is more important than the actual wedding. I’m not shallow, Mr. Billingsley,” I shoot out. “It feels like you’re devaluing my work.”

He groans. “I’m not. I have a lot of respect for what you do, especially after today, after seeing all that goes into it. That stuff’s crazy complicated.”

“It is. But I’m used to it.”

“You never answered my question. How do you know when a couple gets divorced?” His voice is strained. Perturbed.

I wave him off and move to get in my car. I’m not going to explain the mild level of intel work that my assistant and friend Kaia and I do. He would just think I’m psycho. “I have my ways. When’s your brother getting married?”

Beck gives a prolonged blink. He really is trying with all his might to avoid talking about this wedding. “They haven’t narrowed it down. But they want to get married before she starts her master’s degree in New Jersey in the fall.”

My mouth drops open. “I see a mansion beach wedding in their future.”

His brow makes a severe line. “Nope. They’re not traditional like that.”

“Oh, come on! Can you convince them? As you said earlier, the venue’s going to be perfect. Do they live here in town?”

“Yes.” His arms are crossed over his chest again, but this time, I’m pretty good at not noticing—too much—the All-American, tanned, very non-presumptuous bulges of the muscles in his arms.

I need to stop noticing anything about him. He’s frustrated with me about ninety-six percent of the time, closely rivaling my ninety-seven percent of the time that I’m frustrated with him.

“But they don’t want to get married here,” he says. “Trust me.”

“What’s your brother’s name?” I ask.

The vertical lines on his forehead deepen. “Just. Can you not? Please?”

I lean my elbow on the steering wheel so I can better see his face towering above me. “Can I not, what? What do you think I’d do? Stalk them and threaten them until they sign with us?” He hesitates and I cry out. “Really? You really think I’d go to those lengths?”

“You’re hardnosed. I’ve seen the evidence myself.”

“Just because I’m good at what I do doesn’t mean I’d go to those lengths. I just thought it might be nice, is all. You’re his brother, and you’ve been working to renovate this beautiful place.”

“He works with me, so he already knows about the venue, and he hasn’t said anything about having the wedding here, so I’m assuming…”

“Was he here today?” I don’t think so, but I could have missed him.

“No. He’s been on a different project.”

“Hmm. Does he ever come and work on this site?”

“When I ask him to, yes.” He holds out a hand in a stop sign motion. “Just don’t get any ideas. My brother isn’t getting married here.”

“What’s so wrong with it?”

The bulk of his upper body hunches, his shoulders inching closer to his ears. “It’s just not going to happen, Dallas. Besides, they might wait to get married. You never know.”

“Wishful thinking?”

His tongue moistens his lips. “Dallas, look. I really shouldn’t be talking about this with you.”

I stare through the windshield, suddenly a little embarrassed that I’m sounding like the town gossip, trying to get to know his and his family’s motivations and feelings. “Right. Professional standards and all.”

“That and it’s their business, not mine. They’re going to do whatever it is that they want to do, so—” he shrugs and swipes his chin with his knuckle.

“Right. Their business.” I tap the steering wheel with my fingers. “Well, if they change their mind, let them know I’d be more than happy to help them out.”

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