Page 7 of Lyrical

“No, it looks elegant.”

“I feel like I’m inside an elitist magazine.”

“Let’s just talk with the lady, okay? Keep an open mind. This place could be perfect for you.”

I went up to the desk. “We have an appointment with Mrs. Faulks.” The man ran his finger down the computer screen, an inch away from the glass. “Perry Sommers.”

“Yes, right here. Have a seat. I’ll let her know you arrived.”

“Thank you.”

I joined Perry on the sofa and stilled her bouncing legs. “Relax. You’re not here to get a pap smear. This is supposed to be fun, remember?”

“I feel like I’m contaminating their furniture. Like I should be wearing a plastic hazmat suit just to sit down.”

“God, Perry, overreacting much?” Maybe this wouldn’t go as well as I thought.

A rail-thin woman clicked out on skyscraper heels, making it seem effortless. Her tailored suit looked like it cost the equivalent of one of my commissions. An exaggeration, yes, but I was starting to question the suitability of the space. And when I noticed the subtle pinch to her mouth and slight upturn to her nose upon seeing us, I began to feel a bit of Perry’s pain. This was not her, and this was not Stephen, but that didn’t mean we had to rule it out completely. She deserved a dream wedding, dammit.

“Ms. Sommers?” the woman asked.

We stood and Perry gave her a little wave. “Um, that’s me.”

Mrs. Faulks pushed out a smile and shook our hands, barely. What a frickin’ snob. I would have received more warmth holding my skate blade after we’d finished scratching up the ice.

“We usually require much more notice, but the grand ballroom had a cancellation. We may be able to accommodate you, but first we should determine if it’s a proper fit. Shall we?”

She pivoted and headed towards the hall which appeared to connect to more rooms. We blindly followed. “The space is reserved in four-hour blocks. We are very strict about upholding the time limits.”

Perry leaned over. “She looks like—”

I elbowed her in the ribs. Whatever she was going to say, I didn’t want to know right then, and I didn’t want Mrs. Faulks to hear it. Whenever Perry tried to whisper or mouth something, it had the opposite effect, amplifying as if she were using a megaphone. I didn’t want to get kicked out before we started. I still held out hope that this could be the one she fell in love with. Maybe just the lobby looked like our hostess’s home, and the actual reception hall would be less uptight, but still classy.

The woman pushed open a door at the very end of the walk, and the first thing that caught my eye was the massive chandelier hanging from the center of the room. It bordered on frightening. One wrong move and that thing would leave no survivors.

In fact, the entire place sparkled with crystal. As if to reinforce what was already going through my head, Mrs. Faulks said, “We don’t prohibit children, but we cannot stress enough the need for self-restraint and good behavior.”

In other words:No fun.I glanced over at Perry, and she appeared hypnotized. I wondered if she was starting to get a headache too. The place was beautiful, but so was staring at the sun reflecting off a fresh snow bank. Pretty but too damn bright to subject your eyeballs to it for four hours.

“Because of the late date, we would require a five thousand dollar non-refundable deposit to secure the reservation.”

Holy fucking shit. I was afraid to ask how much the total bill would be. I knew this would be towards the top of our list as far as expensive venues went, but… holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Perry said, echoing what was in my head, but at least I’d had enough restraint to keep it there.

“Excuse me?” she squeaked out.

“Um, nothing.”

“If it’s not within your budget, we’d prefer to know at this time. That way we can make sure it gets rented to a more suitable customer.”

In other words,Stopwasting my time.

“No, that’s not the issue,” Perry said. “My fiancé’s loaded.” The woman pinched her mouth tighter. “I’m more concerned if this place has a boom room. That’s a necessity for me.”

“A groom room?” she asked. I stared at Perry too, having no idea what she was talking about.

“No, aboomroom. You see, my dear husband-to-be is a virgin, and I promised him that we’d consummate the marriage as quickly as possible. I’d feel terrible making him wait through an entire reception. I need a place to do the deed immediately when we arrive and possibly several times through the night. Maybe in between pictures or something.” She shrugged. “Or during.”

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