Page 34 of Count Your Lucky Stars
“Yeah?” Brendon sat up straighter. “You liked that one?”
Margot nibbled on the edge of her lip. She had... but not as much as she’d liked watching Olivia enjoy the pink champagne cake.
“Maybe you should stick with something less likely to pose an allergy risk,” Margot said. “I liked the pink champagne cake, too.”
“That’s a good point,” Annie said. “About possible allergies. I wasn’t even thinking that, but you’re completely right.”
“You could do extra cupcakes,” Olivia suggested. “One layer cake, so you have something to cut for photos and so you can save the top tier for your anniversary, if that’s a tradition you want to follow. Or, instead of cupcakes you could have a separate groom’s cake.”
Brendon cringed. “No groom’s cake. It makes me think of the red velvet armadillo cake inSteel Magnolias.”
Margot shivered. “Please, no.”
“No red velvet, either,” Darcy said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s pretentious chocolate.”
“And youdon’tlike it?” Margot teased. “Color me surprised.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed, lips twitching at the corners. “Cute.”
“I try.” Margot flipped the ends of her hair.
Olivia grinned, eyes flitting around the table. “No groom’s cake. And no red velvet. This is good. We’re narrowing our options down.”
“Cupcakes do sound nice,” Annie mused. “We could have more flavors that way, too. Make picking a little easier.”
“So, peanut butter chocolate for some of the cupcakes,” Olivia said. “And—”
“Pink champagne,” Margot blurted, the image of Olivia tonguing her fork baked into her brain.
Annie nodded. “I liked that one.” She picked up her fork. “I think I’m going to need to taste a few of these again.”
Darcy snorted.“Make picking a little easier.”
“Shut up.” Annie laughed and elbowed Darcy.
Brendon leaned his elbows on the table. “So, Olivia.”
She still hadn’t moved her foot from where it was pressed snug against Margot’s. “Mm-hmm?”
“I forgot to ask this the last time I saw you—firsttime I saw you.” Brendon’s smile went lopsided. “What made you want to go into event planning?”
Margot could answer that. Growing up, Olivia had wanted to be a professional mermaid, an ice dancer, a paleontologist, and an event planner, in that order. All but the last had been phases, short-lived. Event planning had stood the test of time, Olivia the first to volunteer to plan sleepovers and camping trips, later joining the student council and spearheading everything from spirit week to bake sales to prom. Olivia had an eye for detail, a hard-on for checklists, and the patience to bring her exact vision to life. Margot couldn’t imagine a more perfect job for her.
“I can’t really remember a time when Ididn’twant to be a party planner,” Olivia said. “I’ve always enjoyed planning events. Birthday parties for myself when I was little, school dances when I was older.” She smiled and shrugged. “I guess I just really love the idea of bringing a vision to life and maybemaking someone’s day, or, when it comes to weddings, making someone’s dreams come true.”
Predictably, Brendon looked completely sold, his smile bright and his eyes huge. “I love that. That’s why I started OTP.” He laughed. “Not the first part, but making someone’s dreams come true.”
Margot smothered her smile with a sip of ice water. She hadn’t ever thought about it until now, but she had a habit of surrounding herself with altruistic optimists. First Olivia, then Elle, then Brendon.
“I’ve heard only wonderful things about OTP,” Olivia said, shuffling her plates to the side, clearing room to rest her hands on the table. She nudged her chocolate–peanut butter petit four toward Margot with a quick wink.
Margot flashed her a smile and slid the plate closer, reaching for her fork. She mouthed a quickthanksbefore digging in, swallowing a bite of cake and, with it, a moan. Shit, that was good stuff.
Brendon shrugged, somehow striking the balance between casual confidence and humility. There wasn’t a disingenuous bone in Brendon’s body, which helped keep his words from toeing into humblebrag territory. “I like to think we’re doing a good thing.” His brow furrowed softly, eyes narrowing as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Say, Olivia, are you seeing anyone?”
“No, no.” Margot set her fork down, shaking her head brusquely. “Do not answer that question, Liv.” She turned to Brendon, leveling him with a hard stare. “We do not ask strangers if they’re single. It’s invasive.”
Brendon held up his hands, face the picture of innocence, all widewho me?eyes and lips parted, ready to spout an excuse. “Olivia’s not a stranger. She’s our wedding planner, and she’syourfriend.”
