Page 76 of Something Borrowed

“Why?”

He winks, which makes him look more of a douchebag than usual, if that’s possible. “Well, you’re a wedding planner, and I’m getting married.”

I swallow bile. “Are you asking me to organise your wedding?”

He smiles. “Of course. Who else?”

“Mr Tumble,” Ingrid offers.

He chuckles and then turns to me. “Well? Would you do us the honour of organising it? I know Stan would want his best friend at the helm.”

“Does Stan know you’re here?” Joe asks in a conversational tone. The fierce look in his eyes slightly mars the politeness.

“I’m sure he’ll be very happy,” Bennett says smoothly.

“Did he say yay or yes to it?” Artie asks. When we all turn to him, he offers Bennett a saccharine smile. “It makes a difference, you see. Words have power.”

Bennett looks slightly stunned. It must be like being bitten by a fluffy hamster.

Jed clears his throat and offers Artie a pointed glance. “Thank you so much, Mr Wordle.” He looks at me. “Would you like me to do it?”

I must look very pathetic if he’s making that offer. I sit up straight and run a hand through my hair. There’s no way I’ll show myself as being pathetic to Bennett. I have my pride, if not my best friend.

“Of course not,” I say hoarsely. “I’d be thrilled.”

Jed looks at me searchingly but then nods almost reluctantly. “Why don’t you take Mr Sinclair into the meeting room? You can make a start.”

“Thank you so much,” Bennett says charmingly. “Please call me Bennett.”

“How lovely,” my boss says in a vague voice. He turns to me. “Start a file for Mr Sinclair.”

I love my friends’ loyalty, but I don’t want to do this in front of them, so I stand up and shoot my cuffs. “Let’s go,” I say smoothly, enjoying Bennett’s blink of shock. “Would you like a coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll get it,” Ingrid says.

I gesture Bennett towards the meeting room and stop in front of Ingrid to hiss at her, “Do not use the old coffee grains.”

“I’m very clumsy. I can’t help it if sometimes my hand slips.”

“Just don’t let it slip towards the rat poison.”

“We do not have any ofthat,” Jed says, horrified, coming up behind us with that catlike quiet he’s famous for. “Because this wedding planning business does not have any rats.”

“Only the one in the meeting room at the moment,” Joe calls.

I grimace at him and then head into the meeting room. Bennett sits at the massive oak table, his hands folded neatly over his leather diary. When I enter, he smiles. “Thank you for doing this. I appreciate it.”

I shake my head and sit down opposite him. “Cut the crap. You don’t like me, and I certainly don’t like you. Our common denominator is Stan, so let’s think of him instead.”

He sits back in his chair. “Do you treat all your customers in this way?”

“Only the super special ones.” I open my diary. “What date are you both thinking of getting married?”

“August the twelfth.”

I blink. “Nextmonth?”

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