Page 54 of Trouble Walked In

Morgan sent back a raised eyebrow emoji.

He smirked at it and tucked his phone in his back pocket. She’d have to wait for details.

He wanted to see Lizzie before too much time passed, he needed to talk to Della, and he needed coffee to make up for the lack of sleep. When he reached the ground floor, he heard Lizzie’s voice through the open doors to the ballroom.

“Absolutely not. There’s no way I’m letting plain drywall show up in any of their photos, period.” Lizzie sounded stern.

“I told him that,” a younger male voice—Carter, he thought—said. “He didn’t care. He said the acoustics work better in the vertical space, whatever the hell he means by that.”

“I don’t care if the acoustics work better in outer space,” Lizzie snapped. “I’m not leaving that bare drywall out in the open. The arrangement stays the way it is.”

Renic stepped into the ballroom. Lizzie, Carter, and Carrie were in the middle of the newly set up dance floor. Lizzie held a binder in the crook of one arm and had her stoic I-am-an-immovable-object face on. Carter looked apologetic, and Carrie appeared to be playing referee.

“He refused to even set up if we didn’t fix it,” Carrie said. “I know you don’t want something that might be less than perfect, but it’s the darkest corner in the room. Nobody will even notice it, but they might notice the DJ not showing up. Right? Come on. We can block most of it with a speaker.”

Renic stepped in to interrupt before Lizzie went even further into her tirade.

“Good morning, everybody. Hard at work already?” He used the same overly cheery voice he’d perfected on Morgan when she was cranky.

Lizzie flashed him a look he couldn’t interpret. Was that happiness to see him, or annoyance? Maybe it was both.

“Good morning.” Lizzie flashed a smile, then returned her attention to the notebook in her arms.

Carrie glance between him and Lizzie with a delighted grin on her face. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Have a nice rest? Want some breakfast? Coffee?”

“No thanks,” Renic said. “How are things going? What can I do to help?”

“Things are behind schedule already.” Lizzie flipped several pages in the notebook, then scowled down at the page. “This room should have been set up thirty minutes ago. We need to get it done, and we need to stop talking about that asinine DJ before the bride and groom come down for the winery tour. I don't want them to think anything is wrong."

Renic pointed at the damaged corner. “What if we pinned wallpaper over the drywall so it looks fixed? Nobody will be looking at it too close anyway, right?”

“Mark suggested that last night,” Carter said. “I checked. We don’t have enough of this stuff left. I ordered some but it’s going to take days to get here.”

Carrie moved to the corner and stood in front of it with her arms spread out wide. “I say we take those big plants and bunch them up around the speaker. See? It would look fine.”

Lizzie gave Carrie a withering look. “Fine isnotthe look I’m going for. The bride specifically wanted the tables and dance floor set up this way to project scenes along the wall during the reception. It’s a special movie the bride’s brother made of their engagement. If we turn the way this idiot wants, the movie will show all over his face. So no, we willnotbe rearranging on the whims of a diva DJ. Please stop arguing with me about it and just finish up in here, okay? We have a lot of work to do today. Twenty-two hours and counting until ready stations.”

Carter looked a little taken aback by her harsh tone. Heheld up his hands as if in surrender. “Sorry, Lizzie. Just trying to help.”

Her face softened. “I know, Carter. I’m sorry. I’m not myself this morning. It’s not your fault. You did great.”

She squeezed his upper arm.

Carter grinned like a kid in a candy store. “Thanks.”

The kid had a crush on Lizzie, and from what Renic could tell she had no idea. “It sounds like you’re preparing for battle, not a wedding.”

Lizzie rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. “Arranging a wedding is a lot like going to war. The more things get out of hand today, the worse tomorrow will be, and there’s always a last-minute disaster to contend with. Always.”

Carrie patted Lizzie on the shoulder. “You need coffee. I’ll be right back.”

“The weather might get kind of chilly Saturday night,” Carter said. “Want me to bring over the blankets?”

“Yes, please.” Lizzie made a note on the already note-covered page in her book. “Thanks, Carter. Just leave an extra set at the back door. I’ll take them down to Lookout Point later.”

“I’m on it,” Carter said. He flashed Renic a look of pure irritation and jealousy on his way out the door.

Renic studied Lizzie’s face. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark circles under them. “We didn’t drink that much beer last night. Why do you look hungover?”

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