Now it didn’t feel like her head was spinning—it really was. “Whoa, that’s…”
“A metric buttload of work, I know.” She sighed. “They’ll cover every dime of your out-of-pocket expenses even if you don’t get chosen. If you do, your venue will be booked solid for the next few years. No question about that.”
And she wanted those bookings. “So, a full dry run of a wedding reception and dinner?”
“Yeah,” Denise said on a laugh. “I guess you figured out by now that Scooter and Blue do things a little, uh, differently than most people.”
“They are spontaneous,” Grace agreed.
“And demanding. Believe me, I’ve worked for Blue for two years, and this is just how she rolls, and Scooter’s cut from the same cloth. Don’t be fooled by their goofiness and jokes. They are totally serious about their images and their brands, even for a small, private wedding. They’ll be looking for that something special that makes your place stand out against Mockingbird Estates and Silverbell Vineyards. Blue’s looking for something indescribable that will make the winner just jump out to her with zero doubts.”
What could Overlook Glen offer that those two gorgeous wineries couldn’t? They were bigger, had full-time staff, and had been hosting weddings much longer than she had.
“You want out?” Denise asked after Grace was quiet for a beat.
With Alex on her side? “Absolutely not. I think we can handle anything.” She closed her fingers over Gertie’s belly and watched Jack and Bitsy bat at a bush. “When are they thinking about having this event?”
“Sunday, the third.”
Grace spun through a mental calendar, coming up with no Sundays falling on the third early next year. Scooter and Blue hadn’t set a date, yet, but she assumed it would be sometime in the summer. “You mean…May third?” she guessed.
Denise snorted. “I mean November third.”
Grace pulled her phone out and stared at her calendar app in utter disbelief. “In…less than two weeks?”
“Look, it’s crazy, I know. But Scooter’s going on tour for months, and Blue’s dropping a surprise Christmas album in mid-November—if you tell that to a soul, she’ll have you killed in your sleep—but she thinks if you can pull this off, then you can do anything. And, sorry, but they are celebrities and usually get what they want.”
So, she had to come up with twenty people, an entire wedding menu, music, flowers, décor, and the wine made exclusively for them…all in less than two weeks? In the middle of the post-harvest press? For a moment, she just couldn’t speak.
“Your chef can handle the short notice?”
For the first time in a while, she smiled. The chef was actually the least of her problems. “My chef can handle anything.” Just ask him.
“Well, they loved him,” Denise said. “And your winery, puppies, and you.”
“That’s good.”
“And, Grace, thank you for not freaking out over this. These aren’t easy calls to make, but when you work for a global superstar, this is the territory.”
“Nothing makes me freak out, Denise.” Except change, detours, stress, and emotional messiness. Which could be the essence of every single moment for the next two weeks if she said yes to this. But how could she say no? With Alex, she might actually be able to pull this off.
She cleared her throat and sat up straighter. “Denise, I can assure you that we’ll do everything in our power to wow Blue, Scooter, and every person at the dry run.”
“I like that,” Denise replied with a smile in her voice. “So we’ll see you on Sunday, the third of November, ready to be wowed.”
After saying goodbye, Grace clicked off and scooped up little Gertie for a kiss. “I don’t know if I want to cry or scream,” she whispered. “But I know exactly who we’re calling next.”
* * *
Alex hadn’t been a member of the “clan” that included the Kilcannon and Mahoney families for very long in the scheme of things. Only officially, by marriage, for a matter of days since his mother and Daniel Kilcannon exchanged vows on Saturday. And by association for about four months since the couple had reunited, and he and John decided to open a Santorini’s in Bitter Bark.
But it was long enough to know that no matter the size or scope of an issue or a need—whether it was a “little problem” or a “family crisis”—this group gathered, planned, acted, and solved.
They also joked, teased, mocked, ate, drank, and loved their dogs throughout the whole process.
So he wasn’t the least bit surprised when he shot out a group text about the event that he and Gracie had to pull off and an impromptu “meeting” got called at Santorini’s late that afternoon. The restaurant was closed for dinner on Wednesdays, but you wouldn’t know it looking out to the dining room where many of the tables were occupied by Mahoneys or Kilcannons of all ages.
“You’d think they never got invited to anything,” John joked as he came out of his office, carrying a notebook, the day’s receipts, and his trusty calculator. “Everyone is here but Grace.”
Alex laughed as he hung the last cooking pot and started to untie his apron. “How many Kilcannons and Mahoneys does it take to pull off an event?”
“It takes Santorinis,” John quipped. “Oh, and good news. Tom Bartlett’s got your ass covered for a few weeks.”
“Really?” Alex held up his hand to give his brother a high five, grateful that a good cook from the Chestnut Creek location could cover for him here.
“Of course he wants time and a half, plus travel, and thinks we should put him up in a hotel.”
Alex snorted. “Pay the extra, cover his gas, and let him sleep on the sofa in our apartment.”
“Or in your bed, since you probably won’t be there.”
“Why wouldn’t I…” He threw his brother a look. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, man. Not sure we’re there.” But he was sure he wanted to be. Still, he’d take it slow with a woman as cautious as Grace.
At the sound of the door opening, Alex dipped his head to see his mother and Daniel, who held the door for Grace. Stepping inside, she froze in place and blinked at the crowd.
“She looks shell-shocked,” John said. “And, oh my God, she has three puppies on leashes.”
Alex snorted a laugh. “Of course she does.” He took a minute to stare at the woman and enjoy that now-familiar jolt of anticipation that hit him every time they were in the same room together.
Gracie.
God, he liked her. Need gnawed at his gut, and something far more primal hit him even lower. Yeah, slow. If he could.
“Twenty bucks says she’s going to keep those dogs,” Alex mused, finally tearing his gaze from Grace to look at his brother, who was staring at him. “What?”
“Just thinking about upping my bet in the family pool.”
“What family pool?”
“The one that says you and Grace are…you know. The Dogmothers’ next matchmaking hit.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head, remembering his conversation with Grace about family. Sometimes, the one he was lucky enough to have did drive him a little crazy.
John clamped a hand on Alex’s back. “My money’s on you, based purely on how much you drool every time you see her. I think you’re going down, little brother.”
“Little?” He jerked out of John’s grasp. “By four stinking minutes.”
John just laughed. “Come on, the natives are getting restless.”
Alex followed John to the dining room, noticing that Grace was still standing in the doorway. The dogs had been spirited away by Molly, Pru, and little Christian.
“Welcome to the nuthouse,” he said under his breath as he got next to Grace, giving her what should have been a quick hug, but holding her one or two seconds too long. Long enough to feel her whole body slightly trembling. Too much family?
“Alex, what is going on?”
Yeah, a lot of family. “Dearly beloved, we’ve come to solve a problem. It’s ki
nd of what this bunch does. Don’t be intimidated.”
“I’m not, but…” She glanced around, gave a quick but nervous smile, then looked back up at him. “Everyone?”
“You need twenty people, right? And a plan for an event we have to pull off in twelve days? I asked on the group chat if people would be willing to come to the dry run, and they all want to know what else they can do to help.”
“So they came here?”
“Well…” He laughed, seeing it through her eyes. “Most of them were in town, and the restaurant is closed tonight, and they will help you, believe me. So…” Every ounce of color had left her face, and he could have sworn her eyes welled up. “What’s wrong?”
She shifted so that his whole body blocked her from the family’s view. “I just never expected…this.”
“I know they can be overwhelming, but they just want to lend a hand.”
She nodded, pulling it together. “Yeah, okay. That’s good. It’s just…a lot.”
“They don’t bite. Much.” He put an arm around her and tugged her into him so she knew she didn’t have to face the crowd alone, then turned her around and called for everyone’s attention.
When they finally quieted down—except for the puppies, who were being passed around and kissed like they were literal babies—Alex explained the whole situation to them, from the surprise visit by Scooter and Blue to what the couple was asking.
“Is she as pretty in real life?” Pru asked, squeezing her hands together. “I am such a fan.”
“She’s beautiful,” Grace confirmed. “Very petite in person.”
“And big in personality,” Alex added.
“So what can we do to help?” John asked from a corner booth, where he sat across from Daniel and Mom, with Santorini paperwork spread out on the table.
“For one thing,” Grace said, “we need as many of you as possible to attend. Full wedding attire, happy faces on, acting like you’re at the best wedding reception since, well…” She pointed at Daniel. “Since yours last weekend.”
“Please tell me I can wear the same suit,” Trace said. “Because I only have one.”
“Absolutely,” Grace assured him.
“Well, I can’t wear the same dress,” Mom joked. “But I will tell you, Grace, your venue is wonderful. And since we’re not going on our honeymoon until after the holidays, you can count on us for another.”
“And us,” Aidan said, an arm around Beck, his wife of a few months, then he leaned over to look at Garrett. “Assuming you don’t have me flying to deliver a dog.”
“I promise. But are babies welcome at this wedding? Teething babies?” Garrett asked, lifting his brows to Jessie, who bounced their nearly eight-month-old son on her lap.
“Of course,” Grace said quickly. “I’m sure Scooter and Blue would love that.”
“Just know that Scooter Hawkings has never met a personal boundary he won’t break,” Alex warned. “I’m not sure I’d trust him not to pick up your baby and sing to it.”
“He can sing to me anytime,” Yiayia said, fanning herself and cracking everyone up.
“So, you’re all in?” Alex asked, giving Grace an I told you so look.
“Liam’s still at Waterford,” Andi said. “But count on this group of Kilcannons.” She patted Christian’s shoulder, making him look up from Jack, who had his undivided attention.
“Can we bring these dogs?” Christian asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Grace said. “That might be—”
“Brilliant,” Alex interjected, earning a wide-eyed look from her.
“Puppies? At a wedding?” she asked.
“Trace and I had as many dogs as people at ours,” Molly told her. “And that was a fairy tale wedding.”
“Fairy tail,” Pru chimed in. “T-A-I-L.”
Everyone laughed, but Alex and Grace held each other’s gaze.
“They did love the puppies,” she said softly.
“None of the competition will have anything like that.”
“Just don’t think about training them.” Shane, easily one of the best dog trainers Alex had ever known, lifted Bitsy out of Pru’s hands, holding her high. “Cute as Christmas, but don’t expect them to be a ring bearer like Meatball was in your wedding, Molls.”
Bitsy tried to lick his face and wagged her tail.
“But they are all so darn cute,” Pru said, taking Bitsy back from her uncle. “I know a lot about Blue. She’d love that idea at a wedding.”
“Oh, there’s no actual wedding,” Grace reminded her. “Just the reception. And do we really want these three hooligans running around?”
“Hooligans!” Christian howled at the word and put his little nose close to Jack’s. “Who’s a hooligan?”
“Then we should have an actual wedding.” Gramma Finnie scanned the crowd like she was on the hunt for her next victim.
“Too bad I just did that three months ago,” Darcy said.
“Me, too,” Beck added.
Cassie, between Darcy and her cousin Ella Mahoney in their usual pack of three, sat a little straighter and cleared her throat. “What you need is an event planner, Grace,” she called out. “I’m all yours, gratis.”
“Thank you, Cassie,” Grace said. “I loved your ideas for your mom’s wedding. I’ll take you up on that offer, but nothing’s gratis. Scooter and Blue are covering all expenses.”
Cassie’s eyes lit. “Sweet deal.”
“What else can we do?” Molly asked.
“I guess, since I have you all here, I could pick your brains for the things that stood out to you most at the wedding last weekend,” Grace said, taking out a notebook. “You’re all such fresh customers, it would help me to get some ideas.”
This group was not shy, shouting out that they loved the way the tables had been arranged, the wall of sunflowers Grace had created for a photo backdrop, the lanterns and tree lights after dark, and the timing so the sun set during the ceremony. She took notes, then looked up at Alex.
“Not a word about Desmond’s food.”
“It was fine,” he assured her. “But the food is the last thing you need to worry about.”
After a while, the group started to break up as families headed home for dinner, but not without promises to be at the event and help to convince the celebrity guests that they were having the time of their lives.
Grace helped Alex pick up some of the glasses and cups left behind, while Gramma Finnie and Yiayia continued a game of gin rummy in one of the booths, chatting with Cassie and Pru, who had the puppies.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“A little,” she said. “I just didn’t expect such a huge group…thing.”
“They’re good people.”
“No, it’s more than that.” She snagged a few glasses and followed him into the kitchen. “It takes my breath away to see them in action. And I get…in my own head. Even a little…”
“Jealous?” he guessed.
She nodded. “I don’t want to, because it’s small and wrong, but envy can eat at me.”
“Don’t let it.” He lifted her chin with a finger, looking into her eyes. “They’ll just wrap you up like you’re one of us.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she whispered.
“They won’t hurt you, Grace.”
She searched his face, a little bit of that agony he’d seen in her eyes the other night still on display. “Until this is all over,” she whispered. Then it could hurt like hell.
They were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and the cheerful greeting of the remaining women as the tall figure of a firefighter in a navy-blue shirt and khakis came in with a familiar gray Weimaraner at his side.
“Braden is here,” Alex said. Of course, Cassie went straight into the man’s arms for a kiss that lasted at least five seconds too long and would have gone on for more if Gertie hadn’t intervened with a bark and a demand to play with Jelly Bean.
While the dogs rompe
d, Cassie put her hand through Braden’s arm and tugged him to a booth far from the others.
“So now we have people and a plan,” Alex said. “What do we have to think about next?”
“The wine,” she said. “And I don’t think your family can all come together and solve that issue.”
“Well, I have an idea about that,” he said, throwing on the water to wash the glasses.
“If you say use the first press from this year’s harvest—”
“Why not try it?” he insisted. “I’ll stay there with you during the whole press. We can change the acidity, or whatever you do, and I’ll taste it and coax the flavor out of it. Your science skills and my flawless gut instinct.”
She laughed at that, but didn’t answer.
He dipped his head a little closer. “What do you have to lose, Gracie?”
She looked up at him for a long time, holding his gaze and maybe her breath. “I don’t know what it is about you,” she admitted on a sigh.
“Charisma? Charm? Talent? Great ideas? A passion for perfection and my unparalleled palate?”
“Getting close,” she teased, a hint of smile lifting her lips. “It’s definitely in the area of your mouth.”
He flickered a brow. “Oh, really?”
She touched his lip with her finger, letting her gaze drop. “It’s…nice.”
“Nice?” He inched closer, ready for the kiss he’d thought about taking since sometime yesterday morning. “Nice enough to kiss? We did make the next cut.”
“Mmm. We did.”
He took that as a yes, lowering his head to let their lips brush softly. He slid his arms around her, easing her into him and deepening that first fresh contact to—
“Ahem.”
They broke apart, turning to see Cassie and Braden, arm in arm in the kitchen doorway.
“We interrupting?” Braden asked with a tease in his voice.
“Not at all,” Alex lied.
“Because we wanted to talk to you about something,” Cassie said, her dark eyes sparking with happiness.
Three Dog Night (The Dogmothers Book 2) Page 10
