Page 20 of Own the Eights Gets Married
“Everything?” Jordan echoed.
“Everything,” the woman replied as Howard appeared and nodded to the woman.
Georgie glanced between the two, but her stepfather quickly melted into the crowd.
“That’s quite a claim, ma’am! Do you have any data to back that up?” Jordan replied.
Georgie shook her head. There was no time to worry about Howard.
The corners of the frau’s mouth curled. “Miss Jensen would prefer a simple, romantic wedding outdoors at the Botanic Gardens. But not a summer wedding! No, you love Colorado in the fall. You picture lights twinkling in the trees as you promise to love and honor each other.”
Georgie’s literary trifecta gasped.
“How do you know that?” she asked.
She’d never told anyone about her wedding day fantasy—not even Jordan.
He turned to her, mouth hanging open. “Is she right?”
“Yeah,” Georgie answered, feeling like she was in a dream.
The wedding frau pinned Jordan with her crystal blue gaze. “And you, Mr. Marks, you never expected to find the kind of love you have found with Georgiana. You would follow her to the ends of the earth.”
“Jesus!” Jordan gasped.
“No, not Jesus, only Mrs. Lieblingsschatz,” the woman replied with the ghost of a self-assured grin.
“Frau Lieblingsschatz,” her mother said with another curtsey. “What happens now?”
The woman closed her leather notebook. “I am offering the couple my services. The offer is on the table for two minutes.”
“We have to decide in two minutes?” Jordan sputtered.
The wedding frau nodded.
“But know this, once you commit, you must follow all my instructions. I will be in the lobby awaiting your answer,” she replied, then turned on her stiletto heel and left the ballroom.
Holy wedding ultimatum!
Georgie turned to Jordan. “What do you think?”
He took her hand and led her over to the milk chocolate fountain. “This lady seems to know what we want, and I don’t think your mom will ever disagree with her.”
Georgie glanced at her mother, who was still suspended in wedding frau shock, clutching Hector’s arm.
“True. If it were up to Lorraine Vanderdinkle, we’d be getting married in some ballroom, probably even pinker and frillier than this.”
He nodded. “With everything on our plate, this wedding planner guru may be just what we need.”
“You’re not worried about having to follow her instructions explicitly?” she pressed.
Jordan shrugged. “It’s a wedding. How many instructions could she have for us? Pick your favorite flower. Fish or chicken. I think we can handle this, Georgie. Plus, her people already took your ring.”
Georgie glanced at her ringless hand and then back to her mother and Hector, standing quietly like good little schoolchildren.
“It would be nice not to have to battle my mother or have CityBeat trying to call the shots,” she agreed.
He held her gaze. “So, we’re a unified yes.”
