Page 71 of Inarticulate

He scoffed and strode away, leaving her to turn to the reception counter and the two people with competing levels of stress sliding off them in tidal waves.

She ignored Grant’s usual demeanor and focused on Amanda. “What is it?”

“The bride wants to add four more guests to the seating plan.”

“Is that an issue?”

Amanda balked. “Is that an issue? The night before the wedding? Um, well, we have to add more meals for the kitchen to prepare, more drinks for non-existent bar staff to make, more plates to clear for waitresses who apparently won’t turn up anyway. Then there’s the tables and chairs that need to be rearranged.” She ran a hand through her tousled hair and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m at the point where I’m ready to walk.”

Shit.“It’s just last minute teething problems. We’ll sort it out.” Yep. Last minute teething problems. Last minute teething problems. It would all work out.Fuck.“Don’t stress.”

Who the hell was she kidding? It was hard not to envisage the inevitable crash and burn of the wedding when the world seemed set against the nuptials. “As soon as I get back, I’ll rearrange the tables. And I can do whatever else you need. Just write a list.”

“I’m entirely over this job.” Amanda held up her hands in surrender. “After tomorrow, I’m taking time off.”

Savannah nodded. “Whatever you need. I promise.” She turned her focus to Grant and snatched her clutch off the counter. “And what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” He patted the coat swung over his arm and then his pants pocket. “I’m all set to go.”

“Fantastic.” She searched the lobby, looking for the night-shift receptionist.

“She’s in the bathroom,” Amanda offered. “I’ll stay here until she gets back.”

“Thank you.” Savannah clapped her hands together as if in prayer. “I promise, once tomorrow is over, everything will be smooth sailing.”

It had to be.

A perfectly manicured brow rose on Amanda’s forehead. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Savannah winced in farewell and walked for the lobby doors, Grant at her side. They didn’t speak, not while hailing a cab, not on the few blocks’ drive to their destination, and not even when they strode by the immaculately shaped shrubs lining the front path.

The glitz and glamour of Grandiosity towered before her, the structure oozing with snobbery. She puffed out a breath of fog, let it disappear into the darkness, and then straightened her shoulders.

“You ready?” She focused on the building, on that shiny, glistening chandelier that beamed its message of superiority.

“Ahh… yeah.” Grant rubbed his hands together, warming them in the cold. “But you’re making me nervous… Should I be nervous?”

“No.” She shook her head, still staring, still frozen. He was already a slave to anxiety; he didn’t need her apprehension rubbing off on him. “This is going to be great.”

Fan-fucking-tastic.

She led the way, climbing the stairs, and came face to face with the doorman. He was familiar. The same man from the night she’d spent in the penthouse.Shit.Could this night be more punishing?

She snapped her gaze to the floor and feigned the tiles had a mesmerizing hold as she walked through the entrance.

“Are you from Rydel?” he asked.

She froze, fear sliding down her spine.

“Yeah,” Grant answered for her.

“Then the bar’s straight through to your left. Would you like me to take your coats?”

Savannah stifled a squeal as Grant lifted the heavy covering from her shoulders and handed it over. She hadn’t prepared herself. Not properly. She’d planned to schmooze with Patrick, ignore Penny, and completely avoid Keenan. But she hadn’t anticipated the shame she would feel when she reentered this building.

Memories overwhelmed her, flashes of vision that made her heart race.

“Are you sure there’s nothing to worry about?” Grant muttered near her ear. “You’re acting strange.”

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