Page 54 of The Kiss Countdown

Vincent looks at me funny but walks to the door. “I’ll be back in two hours, tops.”

“I’ll be back in two hours,” I mock, doing a fantastic impression of Vincent. There’s nobody here to tell me otherwise, since I’m still alone.

It’s three hours later, and Vincent hasn’t returned. It wouldn’t be so bad if I were in the comfort of a familiar place like Moon Bean, where I could people-watch out the window, or Vincent’s house, where I’d be surrounded by the comfort of my belongings. But no, I’m cooped up in a large room where the only company is my computer.

I worked on my website, then decided to torture myself by going to the Jacob and Johnson website. They still have pictures of events I planned posted in their galleries. Pictures I can’t use, even though I’m the one who put in hundreds of hours of work.

I also tried calling my parents, but the call went straight to voice mail. My conscience volleys back and forth between being glad no one picked up and being worried. I know Mom must be fine; they would reach out to me if there were some kind of emergency. But I want to hear her voice myself and not rely on the text messages we’ve been exchanging. On the other hand, if I do speak to them, no doubt they’ll have questions about where I am and who I’m with. And I can’t tell them the truth.

Now, with nothing to do, I stare up at the ceiling, boredom driving me to connect dots like constellations while my computer sits on my chest.

A knock comes at the door, and I eagerly sit up. “Come in.”

Camille is the one to enter. It must have been a good hike. Her fine, curly hair has puffed up around the edges, and she has an empty water bottle attached to a fanny pack at her waist.

She leans against the closed door. “Vincent wanted you to know he’ll be a little longer than expected. He said you get antsy if y’all are apart for too long.”

I open my mouth to immediately set the record straight: I get antsy for no man. But at the last second, I remember I’m supposed to be playing this relationship up. A doting girlfriend would want to spend every second with her boo. Gag.

It feels like my mouth is full of hot gumbo, but I manage a smile. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

Camille watches me closely, then erupts in laughter. “Yeah, your expression pretty much mirrored mine.”

My shoulders sag in relief, and I join her.

“What are you working on?” Camille asks when her giggles die down.

“Nothing now. I was just looking at some old photos of events I did.”

“Do you mind if I take a peek? I’ve been curious about your work.”

“Sure.” I turn the laptop so Camille has easy access to the screen as she sits on the side of the bed. “These are actually from the old firm I worked with, but I was the main coordinator.”

She points to a picture full of bold colors. “What kind of event is that one for?”

“It was a birthday party. My client’s theme was Arabian Nights.”

“Wow, it looks stunning. You really put my little New Year’s Eve party to shame.”

“No, Camille. You threw a lovely party.” Still, I can’t fight my smile. I love when people take pleasure in my work, and the Arabian Nights party was one of my favorites. My client, Salima, wanted a lot of purples, teals, and golds, and I delivered. My favorite element from the setup had been the centerpieces. Fresh royal jasmine bloomed from gold birdcages surrounded by traditional Moroccan candles.

Salima had been ecstatic when she’d walked into the finished hotel ballroom, and I’d been right there with her.

“You know,” Camille says. “I really would love to hire you to plan Mom and Dad’s vow renewal. Brianna and I were supposed to do it together, but it’s hard coordinating while she’s in Dallas and I’m delivering babies. Vincent and I live in the same city, but I already know he won’t help. It’s hard enough getting ahold of him now.” She’s got the same disappointed expression I saw when we went hiking yesterday and Vincent walked away. “Only thing is, it’s in three months. Is that too little notice? We sent out save the date cards, but don’t even have a venue booked yet.”

I lick my suddenly dry lips. She wants me to plan the vow renewal? There are so many reasons I shouldn’t. One, vow renewals are a lot like weddings. Usually they’re not quite as spectacular, but they may as well be termed Weddings 2.0. With no team to rely on for planning or backup, if I do this for Mr. and Mrs. Rogers and something goes wrong, there goes my reputation. Again. Two, how can I accept this job knowing that I’m not the person Camille thinks I am? It’s morally wrong. As bomb as my work is, for all I know, she’s offering me the job only because I’m her brother’s girlfriend.

But can I turn down the job? I already know the answer to that. A resounding no.

I meet Camille’s hopeful eyes and smile. “I can pull it off in three months. I’ve planned military weddings in three weeks.”

“Great! Why don’t you go ahead and draw up the contract so we can get started?”

“I’ll have it ready for you tomorrow.”

Once Camille leaves, I stare at the closed door, wanting to call her back and say I changed my mind. What did I just get myself into? I’m supposed to be here supporting Vincent, not making future plans to get more involved with his family. What if this bargain between Vincent and me doesn’t even work out and I’m forced to back out of the ceremony at the last minute? I’d have to legally change my name if I wanted to work in Houston again.

The bed bounces as I flop back.

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