My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon - Lauren Landish Page 0,137

from Ross and Court’s grade that I’ve never seen or heard of. “Such a small world.”

She doesn’t seem offended in the slightest, thank goodness. “No big deal. I wasn’t really friends with Courtney either. Different crowds, you know. I was on the math decathlon team.”

Something niggles in the back of my mind. “Didn’t we win state or something around then?”

Sadie beams. “Yep, we did.” She bows dramatically, laughing the whole time. “That’s actually how I met my fiancé too. Math decathlon in college.”

She disappears into her memories for a moment, and I can see on her face that they’re all happy ones. Lucky woman.

Not as lucky as me, but good for her for finding her own perfect man.

Coming back to the moment, she leans forward. “Not to go too high school, but I did hear about what Emily Jones-I-mean-Daniels did at the club.” She says the name like that’s Emily’s actual name now and then shakes her head disapprovingly. “I never did like her.”

I’m not a gossiper, not any more than average human nature leads us all to be. But Emily has always been able to get under my skin. I test my heart and my mind, expecting to find some scab Sadie’s words disrupt. But there’s nothing. I just can’t care about all that long-ago drama anymore.

“I’ll admit, the stuff with Emily won’t make my ‘finest moments’ list, either. But I’m moving on, trying to be better and do better.”

I look down at the small, delicate tattoo on my left hand. Lorenzo’s family said we would need to come to Italy to get his grandmother’s ring, and I’m excited about that adventure and to meet his family.

Sadie holds up her own hand, showing me her large, square-cut diamond with a smile.

“I’m happy, Emily’s happy, you’re happy, and those are the things that matter,” I conclude.

“Wise words,” Sadie agrees, touching her ring. “I’m so glad to have you do my flowers. I feel like if every little detail is done with love, the whole day will be perfect.”

“I will do my best. But the only thing that needs to be perfect is for you and your husband to be standing together. Everything else is window dressing for the really important stuff.”

It might be a weird thing for a wedding-focused person to say, but it’s the truth. My flowers bring detail and beauty to an event, but if the bride and groom don’t truly love each other, there is no number of roses that can save the day.

The bell tinkles again, and the one person I don’t want to see walks in. Meredith Wildeman. She’s got on another of her black suits with heels, her silvery hair frozen in place and her eyes hard.

“Miss Andrews, the flower girl. Believe me, I tried to talk Sadie out of using your services. There are simply so many more talented florists in the area.” She sits down, looking snooty as ever. “Well, show us what you’ve got,” Meredith demands.

The entire mood of this appointment just changed with her entrance. Sadie is now sitting straight-backed with her lips pressed together like we were busted misbehaving by the school principal.

I blink, not at Meredith’s arrogance but that she’s so bold with it. I let wheels churn and cogs turn in my head, trying to channel Dad because what I really want to do is tell Meredith to get the fuck out of my shop and take that high horse she rode in on with her.

Finally, it’s Mom’s practiced calm voice that saves me, with a little Ice Queen Courtney thrown in for good measure. Giving people enough rope to hang themselves is sometimes prudent, though taking the high road is a trait I’m still learning.

Completely ignoring Meredith, I turn to Sadie. “It has been so good catching up with you, and I’ll tell Courtney you said hello. Unfortunately, while I’m happy to work with any vendors you might hire, there is one I’m not comfortable contracting with on any event, and that’s Ms. Wildeman. I’m sure she’ll make your wedding absolutely lovely, and I can recommend another floral designer who will do an amazing job if you’d like.”

I pause, letting what I said sink in. Lorenzo told me that Meredith threatened to blackball me with her clients, and by the sound of things, she’s definitely trying. The truth is, I can do the same and choose not to work with her. I’m an in-demand floral designer with a full calendar of clients. I don’t need Meredith