Chapter 12

Ipulled up in front of Three's a Charm Events and slid my car into park. Through the windshield I took in the building's fa?ade, thinking that, yep, this was definitely the kind of place you'd expect a wedding planning company to be housed.

The shop looked like it had once been a carriage house before it was converted into a business. The board and batten siding had been painted white to offset the rustic cedar shingles under the eaves along the front of the building.

Two large concrete pots sat on either side of the entrance, each holding perfectly manicured topiaries. The window boxes were overflowing with brightly colored flowers, and to the right of the entrance was a trellis covered in some kind of climbing vine that was covered in deep purple flowers. The signage hanging from the middle eave read Three's a Charm Events in a dusky blush color, the script full of loops and swirls.

It looked like Disney had thrown up all over it. Like it had been pulled right out of a fairy tale and dropped in the middle of Pembrooke like Dorothy's house falling on that wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. The only things missing were the birds and squirrels coming out to greet you with a fucking handshake and a song. From a business standpoint, I could respect it. It was smart, really, how feminine and... enchanting they'd gone with the esthetic. It called to every bride who pulled up in this gravel lot, telling them this was the place that could create literal fairy tales.

But as a person who refused to ever get married, my balls tried to burrow their way back into my body. I immediately regretted telling my father I'd handle getting these people on board for Leighton's wedding. A large part of me wanted the throw my G-Wagon into reverse and get the hell out of there. The urge to call Hershel and tell him I'd tried my best, but they wouldn't budge was strong, and I would have gladly done it if I didn't think he'd end up climbing into his truck one day after his chemotherapy treatment and drive his ass down here to try and take care of it himself.

That sealed my fate. I wasn't leaving until they agreed to take Leighton on as a client. With a resigned sigh, I pressed the button on my dash to kill the engine and climbed out, traveling the few feet from my car to the door like I was walking toward my doom.

I was sure the soft, melodic chimes that rang out as soon as I pushed the door open were meant to be calming, but they set my teeth on edge. My eyes took in the small reception area as I made my way to the front desk. The walls were covered in framed black and white photos of different weddings the coordinators had worked on, and I had to admit, from a quick glance, I was impressed. Whoever the photographer was, they had real talent. Even in black and white, the energy of every photograph came through. It was no wonder these people were in high demand.

I would have rather had my molars pulled out with rusty pliers than ever get married, but even I had to admit from the pictures on the wall, they were damn good at their jobs.

"Hi. Can I help you?"

I pulled my attention from the photographs and turned to the cheerful, smiling redhead behind the front desk. I moved in her direction with purpose, ready to get this done so I could get the hell out of here and back to the work I'd been neglecting far too much lately.

"Yes. I need to see about scheduling a wedding with your event coordinators."

Her smile deflated a bit at my curt tone. "Oh, well, um... I'm sorry, sir. We're not taking any new clients at the moment, but I'd be more than happy to give you the number for another local company. They do good work; you have my word that you'll be happy with them."

I seriously doubted that, because if Leighton didn't get what she wanted, she made sure no one was happy. "That not going to work," I clipped. "It needs to be this company."

The woman's smile faded away completely, replaced by a look of uncertainty. It was a look I was more than familiar with since it was how most people I had to deal with looked at me. Trepidation mixed with the smallest hint of fear, like they weren't sure if I was going to make a scene or threaten their lives.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we're completely booked up for the next several months."

I felt my mouth pull into a tight line. Christ, if I didn't make this happen, there wasn't a doubt in my mind Hershel would step in, and this was the last thing he needed to worry about. Stiffening my spine, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, adopting my boardroom voice.

"Unacceptable," I snapped loud enough to make the receptionist jolt. I brought my palms down on the credenza between us. "I need to speak with someone in charge. Now."

The woman's eyes grew glassy, and she sniffled right before scurrying from behind the counter with a muffled, "Just a moment, sir."

Once she was gone, I let my shoulders fall ever so slightly, the exhaustion that came simply from knowing Leighton already weighing on me. My attention turned back to the photos on the walls, and I moved closer, taking them all in. Each one was that of a bride and groom in different stages of wedding day bliss. Some were on the dance floor, surrounded by friends and family. Some were standing at the altar experiencing their first kiss as husband and wife. Each was a candid shot made to capture the authenticity of the moment.

Then I got to the picture hanging from a place of prominence right above the door. It too was in black and white like all the rest, the frame matching all the others. However, it wasn't of a newly married couple. In it, three women stood side by side, their arms thrown over each other's shoulders as they beamed at the camera.

I recognized the two on the outside immediately, but it was the woman in the middle, her smile even bigger and brighter than her friends, that made my stomach drop to my feet.

"Shit," I hissed as I moved closer to the picture, blinking like I somehow saw it wrong the first time, but every time I opened my eyes, Jolie's smiling face was staring back at me.

And just like that, I knew I was fucked.

Jolie

Our receptionist,Becca, scurried past my open office door, sniffling and batting at her cheeks as she rushed down the hallway.

"Whoa. Hey," I called out, jumping out of my chair and rounding my desk. I made it across the threshold and into the hall at the same time Tarryn peeked her head out of her office across from mine. Becca was standing in the doorway of Ryan's office a little farther down, her cheeks pink and eyes puffy.

"What's going on?" I asked as Tarryn and I closed in on them.

"Th-there's a guy up front. He—he's demanding to speak to someone in charge."

My skin prickled, the tiny hairs on my arms standing on end. I took a step closer to her, ready to go full-on Mama Bear if the situation called for it. "Did this guy do something to you?"

I wasn't sure what the hell he'd done to make Becca cry, but I was sure whatever it was, it was junk punch worthy, and I was more than happy to dole out his punishment. Becca was a constant ray of freaking sunshine, for crying out loud. Making her cry was like punching an entire litter of Yorkie puppies right in the face. Just plain wrong.

She shook her head, taking the tissue Ryan passed her way and dabbing under her eyes. "He was just rude. And super intimidating." My back snapped straight. "He came in saying he wanted to see about booking a wedding, but I told him we weren't taking on any new clients, just like you guys told me to say, and he got really bossy. Wouldn't take no for an answer and demanded to speak to one of you guys."

That was it. This guy had just sealed his fate. It was junk-punch o'clock, damn it.

I turned on my heel and started down the hall toward the small but cozy reception area that we'd spent countless hours designing and furnishing so it was absolutely perfect. I was ready to throw the hell down.

"Jolie, slow down," Ryan attempted to reason from behind me, her heels clicking on the tile floor as she and Tarryn raced to catch up to me. She'd always been the more diplomatic out of the group. That gut punch she'd given Daniel Boyd in the third grade had been a one-off. Most of the time she was the levelheaded one, the one who thought things through and planned before taking—or not taking—action. Unless you hurt someone she loved. Then she went feral. To this day, Barrett still didn't know she was the one who keyed the words Dickless Wonder into both sides of his car and the hood before slashing his tires. He'd hurt me, so she'd gone full Carrie Underwood on his ass.

"Let's just take a moment and think this through," Tarryn attempted.

I reached the reception area before either of them could catch me, mouth opened in preparation for ripping this dude a new asshole, but before I could get the words out, I spotted the man in question and screeched to a halt at the sight of Vaughn in the reception area, staring up at the photo of Ryan, Tarryn, and me outside the office building the day we opened Three's a Charm.

My girls stumbled into my back at my abrupt stop, and I knew by the muttered curses from each of them they recognized him only a second after I did.

"You," I said on a growl. Vaughn whipped around, those aquamarine eyes of his flashing with something I was too fired up to put a finger on the moment they landed on me. "You made my receptionist cry, asshole."

His hands came up in surrender. "Jolie?—"

"Becca," I called out over my shoulder without taking my eyes off the man standing only a few feet away. "Will you please go get me a cup of coffee from the break room? Fill it all the way to the top." My eyelids narrowed viciously. "And heat it up in the microwave for forty-five seconds. I want to make sure it's really hot."

"Becca, do not do that," Ryan said in that strict boss voice of hers. "I think we're all more than capable of handling this like adults."

She could speak for herself, because I wasn't really feeling very adult at the moment. I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to melt the skin off his perfectly chiseled face with my eyes. Was I overreacting? Possibly. A little. But this guy had come in here, throwing his weight around like it was his right, and made my friend cry. And that was after taking liberties in front of the entire town and throwing the life I'd been trying to piece back together into a meat grinder and pulverizing it beyond recognition.

There was also a slight possibility that part of my irrationality stemmed from the fact that I'd been suffering from some rather inconvenient sexual frustration since that kiss. I didn't know up from down, and when I was thrown off balance, I tended to act before thinking. It wasn't the best character trait to have, but at least I was aware and owned it.

I just hadn't done anything to actually fix it.

Vaughn hadn't taken those unique eyes off me since I stepped into the reception area, and I would have been lying if I said that being under his intense scrutiny wasn't a little disconcerting. He just had this... energy about him, all the time. Tarryn would call it big-dick energy, and for the first time in my life, I understood what that meant, because this man reeked of BDE.

"May I speak to you?" he asked in that hard tone that seemed to be his default. He cast a furtive glance at my girls before returning those oxidized copper eyes to me and adding, "Alone?"

I opened my mouth to tell him anything he had to say to me, he could say in front of my partners, but Ryan got there first. "Why don't you take him back to your office?"

My jaw dropped in affront as I turned to look back at her like she'd just lost her damn mind, but I read her expression loud and clear, and it said don't screw with me or I'll make you pay.

"Fine," I said with a childish pout, turning my glare back on Vaughn. "Come on." Then I stomped down the hallway without waiting to see if he was keeping up.