Page 28 of Own the Eights Gets Married
“Georgie, I…” he tried again, but instead of looking angry, she closed her eyes and inhaled.
“What is that?” she asked on a dreamy breath.
“That would be the cakes,” Frau Lieblingsschatz answered.
Georgie’s face lit up. “We get to do a cake tasting?”
If he were a comic book character, this would be the scene withphewwritten above his head in huge block letters as the hero dodged a bullet.
“Jordan, they’re baking cakes for us,” she exclaimed.
He’d never been so grateful for empty calories in all his life.
For the next hour, he received a crash course in Weddings 101. A lot of it seemed like a load of bullshit and old wives’ tales, but Georgie seemed to eat it up, and he quickly understood the old adage, happy wife, happy life.
“And now, Miss Jensen and I will part with you, Mr. Marks,” the frau said as one of the wedding minions cleared away the flowers they’d settled on for the bouquet and centerpieces.
Georgie glanced at the row upon row of dresses lining the back wall. “Is it time to choose a dress?”
“Yes, the dress and the wedding rings,” the wedding planner answered.
Georgie frowned. “I understand Jordan not being with me when I choose my dress. I want it to be a surprise for him. But why would we choose the rings separately?”
“In my many years of planning weddings, I’ve learned that the choice of wedding bands says quite a bit about a couple,” the frau answered.
“Okay,” Georgie replied, still with a slight crease in her brow.
Was this a test? There couldn’t be a right or wrong wedding band, could there?
“Hans!” she called, glancing around the warehouse.
A small man with thick glasses emerged from behind one of the racks of dresses and joined them.
“Miss Jensen and I are going to attend to the dress, and Hans will take you to our ring room to select wedding bands,” the wedding frau instructed.
He reached for his fiancée’s hand. “I know you’re going to look beautiful in whatever you choose.”
“Good luck with the rings,” she answered, giving his hand a squeeze.
The wedding rings. The rings they’d wear every day for the rest of their lives.
He hadn’t thought much about their actual wedding bands. He’d been so relieved to find the antique engagement ring he hadn’t considered the design of their bands.
“Come with me, sir,” the man said in a gentle German accent, gesturing for him to follow.
Jordan watched as Mrs. Lieblingsschatz and Georgie disappeared into layer upon layer of billowy white dresses.
“The wedding frau is something else,” he commented.
“You have no idea,” Hans answered with the hint of a grin.
They snaked through the building until they reached the end of the hall, and the man unlocked a door. In gleaming lit cases, row upon row of rings sparkled under the lights.
“Wow, you guys must have over a million dollars’ worth of jewelry in here!” he exclaimed with a low whistle.
“Try ten,” Hans chuckled. “Now,” he continued, pointing to the shimmering tables, “what do you have in mind for Miss Jensen?”
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.
