Page 118 of Someone Like You

‘Not unless we rent a helicopter. She’s snowed in on the other side of the Snoqualmie Pass – over that way,’ I say, waving generally towards the east.

‘In that case, I’d be delighted to do my part.’

‘Thanks, Raff. It doesn’t have to be… you know,fancy. I’m sure Monica and Brian would be happy with a Betty Crocker box cake at this point.’

He recoils in mock horror. ‘You didnotjust say that to Britain’s Best Baker!’

I crack up and he breaks into a (heart melting) smile. ‘Is this my life now? You busting out your national title whenever you want to win an argument?’

He shrugs one shoulder.

‘Okay…’ I say, getting back to replanning this wedding. ‘That’s the final piece of the puzzle, so now we need to brief everyone.’

‘Will your aunt and uncle agree, do you think?’

‘They have to. I’m sure Mom and Dad would offer to host it here, but this place is way too small for forty guests,’ I reply. ‘Actually, forty-two now that Brian’s parents have pulled off a miracle.’

‘Theirs sounds like the journey from hell – how many stops did it end up being?’

‘In the end, six.’

‘Blimey, that’s dedication.’

‘CiCi and Devin would do that for you,’ I say without thinking.

Because if I’d thought about it forone second, I wouldnothave created a hypothetical in which Raff was getting married and CiCi and Devin had to move heaven and earth to attend the wedding. As far as Raff is concerned, his hypothetical bride is anyone but me.

‘True,’ he says with a smile, and Isowant to ask him if he’s imagining Julia in this scenario, but then again, I don’t want to hear him say yes.

I pick up my one-pager where I’ve written the contingency plan out in full and pretend to read it while the words swim on the page.

‘Shall we then?’ he asks.

‘Yep,’ I say, forcing a smile. ‘Let’s go rally the troops.’

I run through everything Raff and I have figured out, then look around the living room at my family. ‘How does that sound?’ I ask them.

Mom beams with pride. ‘Sounds great, hun.’

‘Yeah, great work, you two,’ says Dad, nodding approvingly.

Monica rushes to me and throws her arms around my neck. ‘Thank yousomuch,’ she says, squeezing me tightly. I return the hug, the one-pager dangling from my fingertips.

Someone clears their throat and Monica releases me.

‘Am I really expected to get my home ready to host a wedding in less than twenty-four hours?’

Aunt Christine glowers at me, her hands on her hips, and there’s so much to unpack in that one question, I’m not sure where to start.

Fortunately, I don’t have to say a thing.

‘It’sourhome, honey. And Gaby’s right – it’s the only viable option.’

‘But Marv—’ she blusters.

‘And everyone here will help us get ready. It won’t fall solely on you.’

This seems to appease my aunt – at least partly. ‘All right,’ she says tersely, her mouth downturned.

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