Heather’s fingernails tapped on the table. “That’s what I expected when she hired me. I was prepared for it. So it just doesn’t make sense that she’d be the most hands-off bride I ever had.”
“Like I said, maybe she changed?” Josh asked.
“Perhaps,” Heather said, although she didn’t sound like she believed it, and he didn’t know that he did, either. Danica had always been deliberate in everything she did. Hell, conniving might be a better word for it.
“Keep your eyes open, 4C,” he said, feeling the need to warn her, even though he didn’t know about what. He hadn’t spoken to Danica in years.
“Oh, I am,” she said with a firmness to her voice. “There’s definitely something going on with her, but until I figure out what it is, all I can do is plan the best wedding I know how.”
“You always wanted to be a wedding planner?” he asked.
“Ah—”
His eyes narrowed at the embarrassment in her tone. “Confess.”
She sighed. “Okay. Fine. But it’s embarrassing.”
“The good stuff always is.”
Heather fiddled with her napkin. “So my mom is sort of . . . a romantic. And back when I was little, she had a boyfriend—lots of boyfriends—and even though they never stuck around for more than a couple months, she never stopped believing that one of them would. ‘This is The One, sweetie. I’m going to marry this one,’ she’d say. And back before I wisened up, knew how relationships really worked, I let myself dream. I let myself plan.”
Josh’s heart twisted a little. “You planned your mother’s wedding.”
“Weddings,” she corrected with a sad smile. “There were plenty of boyfriends, and with each one, I’d come up with a new color scheme, a new theme, a new location, each one more perfect than the last.”
“Did any of the weddings ever happen?” he asked gently.
“Nah,” she said with a casualness that was too forced. “But hey, it was good practice, right?”
“You know, having a sister, I know that most little girls plan their own weddings.”
She shrugged. “The ones who already had happily married parents, maybe.”
There was no bitterness in her voice. Just tired resignation.
“You’ve never thought about your own?” he asked, not really sure why he was asking.
“From time to time,” she said. “I just don’t really see much of a point in spending that much thought on it. I get paid to think about other people’s. And I love it. I really do.”
“So you’re living the dream.”
“I am,” she said, idly twisting her wineglass around on the table. “I always wanted to live in New York. I always wanted to be a wedding planner.”
“And look at you now,” he said.
She met his eyes and smiled. “And look at me now.”
“So what’s next on your bucket list now that you’re on track for domination of your professional life?”
“Domination of my personal life, I guess,” she said with a little shrug. “I know. It’s pathetic that I have to schedule it in, but it’s not happening naturally, so . . .”
“What’s the plan?” he asked, feeling suddenly irritated even as he couldn’t put his finger on why. “If you want, we could put together a little sign for you to wear around your neck that says ‘available and looking.’ ”
“Actually, that’s not far off,” she said. “I’m thinking it’s time to wade into the world of dating sites or apps, or what not.”
“Oh, 4C. No.”
“What!” she exclaimed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of! Plenty of people meet their soul mates that way.”
“Yeah, but not you.”
She glared. “Why not me?”
Josh opened his mouth only to realize that he didn’t have a good answer for that.
“Exactly,” she said with no small amount of smugness. “I don’t suppose I could talk you into putting together my profile? Despite your piglike tendencies, you do seem to have a good grasp of the dating world.”