Page 35 of Picture Perfect

“You as well, Niles. Where will I find the kiddos?”

He smiled warmly. “In the parlor.”

Walking through the white and dark wood foyer, my thoughts return to how nervous Rowan was when he asked me to watch the kids since his mom was busy with Sawyer and Willow’s wedding preparations and Hannah had to study for a test. But I could not have been happier to do it.

I had already told him that I was available and I wanted to get to know them better. As soon as I walk into the parlor, the children look up from their board game and squeal, “Autumn!” before running full steam at me for a hug. They are not the only Cargills in the parlor. In fact, the dark room full of antiques is spilling over with the family.

Alistair, the patriarch, stands at a piano which Brooks plays softly as he laughs with his father and Sawyer. The gentleman waves, and his sons shoot me a smile between their words. No sight of Parker, but that isn’t unusual. Seeing him would have been. Beverly Cargill, their mother, dotes on Willow until she sees me and the pair join me.

She is in her early 60s and is the epitome of grace and elegance. Her wealth and social status are reflected in her impeccable style. She has a youthful glow and looks amazing for her age.

Her hair is cut in a blunt style that perfectly frames her face, and it is light blonde, reminiscent of the color of wheat. She has an air of confidence about her, evident in her straight posture and the way she carries herself. Her face is well-defined, and her skin is smooth and radiant, with hardly any signs of aging. Her eyes are bright and alert, with a sparkle that hints at a life well-lived.

She is dressed in a tailored pantsuit, showcasing her impeccable taste and style. Her accessories are understated yet exquisite, adding a touch of refinement to her overall appearance.

“Thank you for coming to our rescue, Autumn. This wedding is simply out of hand.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Cargill.”

“You know better than that. Just because we haven’t seen each other for some time doesn’t mean you have to revert to formalities. Please call me, Beverly,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Willow smiles, every bit the radiant bride. “Itisout of hand, but you seem to love that about it, Beverly,” she says.

The older woman beams at her. “Every single bit.”

A man in a pink suit by the name of Windsor Harold breezes in. I’d worked with him at a few weddings, and though hewaspicky, he is the best planner I’ve ever seen. “Willow dear, do come this way. The dresses have arrived.”

She and Mrs. Cargill grin and follow him to some other room in the mansion. Ellie beams, “Come on, you can play too.”

Smiling, I join them and sit cross-legged on the floor next to Monopoly. I was a little surprised they were playing it. “Are you two enjoying this?”

“Yeah,” Jonah says enthusiastically. He points to the giant pile of money, and I note Ellie’s little stack. “It’s easy.”

“It’s easy when you cheat,” Ellie says indignantly.

“I’m just a better player than you.”

“Oh, really?” I ask. “How do you play?” I knew Monopoly, but I wanted to see howheplayed it.

“First, I pick my piece—I’m the battleship. You can be the boot if you want. Ellie picked the dog—

“See?” she asks, holding it up. “She looks just like the dog I want.”

He continues, “And then we roll and the number tells us the steps. And then I buy the property I land on. When Ellie goes onto my property, then I charge her double the rent.”

“Double?”

“She’s my sister. She gets the family discount.”

I frown. “That’s the opposite of a discount, Jonah—

He kneels up to my ear, “Don’t tell her that. She doesn’t know.”

I snort a laugh. “You can’t rip your sister off. That’s not okay.”

He huffs. “No. But it’s funny.”

I roll my eyes and try not to laugh again. I spend the hours teaching them how to play Monopoly the right way, which he declares is way more fun, being that he still dominates the game. The little stinker.

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