Page 78 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

When Mass ended, her brothers hustled her outside into the bright sunshine, hardly allowing her time to wave goodbye to some old friends of her parents and the women’s club. Michael had parked his pickup in the shade of a crooked tipu tree, but when they clambered inside, the black truck felt like an oven. Sandwiched between her brothers in the front seat, Mary fanned herself with her copy of the church bulletin while they waited for the air conditioning to turn cold.

“So, what’s this all about?” she asked.

“You can’t give up on your wedding planning business,” Rafe said. “It makes you happy.”

“The family business makes me happy. I love working with you two. And the wedding planning was a flop.”

“It wasn’t,” he insisted. “Twyla and Teagan loved their wedding. And so did their guests. That aunt of theirs?—”

“Aunt Beth?” Mary asked.

“The one who’s allergic to bee stings. She cornered me and gushed about the garden and the food. She asked me if you did birthday parties, too.”

“What did you say?” Her business was so new, she didn’t know if she did birthday parties.

“I told her she’d better call you on Monday to get on your schedule because it’s filling up.”

“Rafael Paschal Forza. You did not lie to that woman.”

“You know I hate my middle name,” he growled. “And I didn’t lie. You’ve got Cierra’s wedding coming up in a couple of weeks. And your schedule will fill up. You’re an amazing planner.”

“Besides,” Michael said, “you’re fired.”

“I quit, actually.” Mary looked down into her lap. “He was about to fire me, though. In front of everyone.”

“No. You’re fired from Forza Elite Motors. Evie said she’ll take over your responsibilities at the shop.”

“What?” She stared at her brother. “You hate Evie.”

“She does good work. I’ll just keep to the shop.”

Panic clawed up her throat. “But you can’t fire me. I’m a Forza!”

“You’ll still own a third of the shop. But you can’t work there anymore.” Michael crossed his arms.

“You can come visit if you want,” Rafe said, patting her arm. “But you’ll have to clear out your office. Otherwise, you’ll be distracted from wedding planning when you come in.”

“But Evie doesn’t know how to run the shop. She hardly knows the difference between a Mustang and a Corvette.”

Michael gave a disgusted snort.

“She’ll learn,” Rafe said. “You know you’ll be happier helping people celebrate their love than shuttling people to the airport or making sure no one pukes in Nick Cage.”

The thought of never having to hold back another bachelorette guest’s hair filled her with relief. And envisioning happy couples like Twyla and Teagan in their wedding finery filled her with the peace she normally felt after Mass.

Michael exchanged a glance with Rafe. “Besides, Rafe has some news, too.”

“News?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah. I…um…I’m going to do more modeling. My agent has me booked on some gigs in LA next month.”

“Your…agent?”

“Yeah.” His cheeks went red. “But my buddy Axe is going to start working at the shop.”

She spun to face Michael. “And you’re okay with this?”

He shrugged. “Guess I have to be. You two have gotten too big for the car biz. Rafe’s earning more for this LA gig than we make in a month.”

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