Page 31 of One Night Bride
A little old lady with a cat in her lap hooted and hollered. Vee and another girl her age clapped their hands and squealed. Oakley looked at me agape, while Amelia tossed her head back and laughed so loudly I worried for the baby.
Another woman in her late fifties got up to fist-bump Esme, saying, “I didn’t realize you were so progressive, Esme.”
All the while, I moved across the room, heading for the kitchen where I knew Esme had trays of food ready for after the coaching session. I’d tried to pilfer a sandwich off the tray earlier today, and she’d nearly bitten my head off. I hoisted one tray above my head and got to work, working the room. I got a lot of smiles and wandering eyes. I’d never felt so good about my muscular physique.
Esme tried to play my presence off like it was planned, but I could see the way I’d knocked her off her game. Her forced smile stayed plastered on her face, and her eyes glazed over.
A hand came into my peripheral vision, going for my ass and distracting me from gauging how mad Esme would be. Cat quick, I swooped out of the way without spilling the food tray. The pink-haired lady gave me a smarmy grin as she snatched her hand back, and I knew she’d keep trying. When I offered the tray to Oakley, she whispered out of the side of her mouth, “You’re so dead.”
She wasn’t wrong. Esme was going to be almost nuclear once this thing was over. In my defense, there wasn’t a whole lot I could have done to salvage the situation once I laughed out loud, and they’d heard me. However, I was the one wearing next to nothing and dodging ass grabs. All so our secret marriage could stay a secret and Esme could keep her business. She could at least thank me for my sacrifice before she ripped my ass a new one.
Everyone munched on their sandwiches while I headed over to Esme, still looking shell-shocked over by the big-screen television on the wall. Despite that, I did notice that her gaze hadn’t left me the entire time I’d circulated the room. Me thinks my wifey liked looking at me.
“Sandwich, Esme?” I asked coolly.
“I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You,” she said through clenched teeth. Her lips were grinning in a grimacey sort of way, but her eyes looked a little scary.
“You’re welcome,” I said pointedly, sashaying away before she could dig her claws into my skin like I knew she wanted to.
“Is anyone up for dessert?” I shouted to the group of ladies.
Their enthusiastic cheers kept going the whole time I served the mini fruit cups. Probably because I’d also found a can of whipped cream in Esme’s refrigerator. Apparently, they all really liked it when I put the can down by my junk and sprayed whipped cream in their mouths.
If the ranching thing or the nonprofit thing didn’t work out, I now had a backup calling. Who knew I’d be such a hit as a stripper-slash-caterer?
14
Esme
I’d never been so confused in my entire life. I was born the type of girl who knew what she wanted and went after it with a tenacity that would make CEOs quake in their high-end loafers. Watching my father lead this town as I grew up had made an impression on me. People wanted leaders to help them along their own paths. Leaders should only be in that position because they gave more back than they took. My motto with my coaching business was always to give far more value than the dollars my clients gave me.
And yet, I’d never considered what the addition of a man to the equation would give not only me, but also my clients.
Until Remington showed up as some kind of stripper entertainment at my retreat.
Pretty sure there was steam coming out my ears when he sauntered down those stairs without a shirt on. Pretty sure if I’d had a chance in that moment, I would have wrapped my hands around his beefy neck and tried to choke him until he begged me for mercy. I wasn’t a violent person by nature, but that boy pushed all my buttons. On purpose, usually.
But then I’d watched him as he milled about the room, charming the socks off all the ladies I’d grown up with in this town. He’d avoided being groped by Poppy, which was no easy feat. He’d petted Yedda’s cat, who wouldn’t normally let anyone touch her. He’d even gotten Mrs. Trudowsky to dance with him when she said her feet were too tired to participate in our group exercise. Which, by the way, if you’ve never physically shaken off your troubles when you played that Taylor Swift song, I don’t know if you’ve truly lived.
And holy fuck nuts, the guy was hot. He was all muscles, and tan skin, and that charming aw-shucks grin the ladies ate right up. And then those eyes would swing my way and it was like he saw right through me. Right to the part of me that wondered who I’d be if I didn’t have my business. And that scared me. He could ask me to give it all up for him, and I just might do it.
“So, Remington,” Poppy began, having settled down when she realized he’d keep outrunning her grabby hands all night. “I can imagine you run a highly successful catering business based on your work here tonight. What insights do you have for us on starting a non-traditional business?”
Remington cleared his throat and glanced over at me. Oh, no, buddy. I wouldn’t help him out. He’d gotten himself into this mess, he could get himself out.
“Well, I think the most important part is listening to what your heart is telling you. If you’re going to be putting all your time and energy and money into building a business, it should be something you passionately care about. Because if you don’t, what’s the point? So you have money in the bank, but you wake up hating life every day? No, thanks.” He gestured back to me at the front of the room. “Which is why Esme had you do that exercise at the beginning, where you tap into what your dreams are.”
All heads swiveled back in my direction. I shot him the first genuine smile I’d sent his direction tonight. That was a classy move, shifting the conversation back to my coaching. Classy for a guy who currently had whipped cream smeared across his bare chest.
I clapped my hands together. Time to end the evening.
“Okay, that’s it for tonight. I appreciate you giving up your evening to talk about these things. I’d like you to write down your dreams on paper this week, spending quiet time with each of them to see if one speaks to you in a big way. We can piggyback on those dreams next week and talk about how to put those dreams into tangible action.”
The ladies all thanked me for the evening and talked amongst themselves as they gathered their things. Most spent just as much time thanking Remington for the evening as me, which smarted my pride yet also made me curious. Maybe something was missing in my coaching and I hadn’t even realized it.
Poppy was the last to leave, and she only left then because Yedda and Polly dragged her out by the arms. Remington gave her a wink as her friends manhandled her down the driveway which seemed to satisfy her. Izzy gave me a hug and headed upstairs as she had to work early tomorrow. The second Remington shut the door, and we were all alone, he spun around and put his hands up.
“Okay, listen. I didn’t mean to hijack your retreat. I laughed, because, come on. Those ladies are crazy, and they heard—”
