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of greenery. When I get back with the last load, the main house is bustling with activity. Staff members are busy giving the main dining room a makeover. The kitchen is completely off-limits. I’m not even sure how many people are currently in there or what they’re doing, but I have no doubt it will be amazing.

I find Hannah in the dining room. She’s surveying the space with a critical eye. I stand back and watch her for work. She points at a table, indicating that it needs to be shifted more toward the center of the room. Two young men rush to comply. She stops someone carrying a decorative silver bowl, gesturing toward the corner, near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The girl immediately turns in that direction. The room is chaotic, crowded and loud, but Hannah is a sea of calm in the middle of it. She’s a beautiful, benevolent dictator in heels. Not for the first time, I wonder how she manages to keep everything so organized. It’s as though she has an internal layout in her mind of exactly where everything belongs. I know I could never do it. The Jester is lucky to have her. She should be coordinating events full-time rather than managing this place. The idea is one I don’t like to consider. Hannah leaving The Jester? Unthinkable.

Just then, she looks over and catches my eye. She smiles eagerly and strides toward me.

“Oh, good. You’re back. Take me to the flowers.”

She’s a bundle of energy and I let her sweep me along in her wake. When we get to the east parlor, Hannah stops in her tracks, eyes wide.

“Shit.”

My gaze shoots to her face. She so rarely swears that hearing the profanity from her mouth is a shock.

“Hannah? What’s wrong?”

I look from her to the flowers and back. “These are the right flowers, aren’t they? Don’t tell me they sent the wrong flowers?”

Hannah shakes her head and begins to walk slowly through the room. “The flowers for the ceremony and the reception aren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow. They sent everything. All the flowers are here early.”

“Okay,” I say, drawing out the word. I fail to see how this is a bad thing. “Better early than late, right?”

She shakes her head. “We don’t have a cooler to store them in. They’ll wilt.”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.”

We both stare at the room filled with flowers for several seconds, neither speaking. Eventually, I have an idea. “Okay. Here’s the plan.”

Hannah looks at me with hope filled eyes.

“I’m going to call around and find chilled storage for tomorrow’s arrangements. There’s got to be some place in town that can hold them. In the meantime, you keep doing what you’re doing. Let’s move the rehearsal flowers over to the dining room so I can see what’s left.”

Hannah sucks in a deep breath and lets it out. She nods as though coming to a decision. “Okay.”

Then she springs into action, pointing out arrangements for me to carry and hefting giant vases. I enlist the help of one of the guys who’d been moving tables earlier. Somehow Hannah knows exactly which arrangements are for tonight and which are for the wedding tomorrow. I’m not sure how much of her brain is devoted to floral arrangements, but I’m happy she seems to have it memorized. When we finish, Hannah goes to work in the dining room, and I start making phone calls. I convince one of the local florists to store the remaining arrangements in their cooler overnight. The owner is an old high school friend and the Jester has done business with them for past events. By the time I load the van again, drive back to town and unload all the flowers a second time, I hope I never see another sprig of baby’s breath again.

I return to the Jester without much time to spare before the rehearsal dinner. I’d planned to stay for the event in case there are any last-minute issues I may be able to help with. I head to my office and change into my emergency shirt and tie so I’ll look presentable for the evening. When I emerge from my office, I’m feeling much less disheveled than before. I make my way to the ballroom where the rehearsal has probably already started.

As I round the corner, my eyes are immediately drawn to the woman before me. Hannah. She’s standing framed in the open archway of one of the ballroom’s side doors. She’s wearing a deep purple dress that I know I’ve never seen on her. It falls to just above her knees and is modest by any standard. Something about the way it clings to her curves has my imagination running wild though. She’s watching the ceremony and doesn’t notice me until I’m standing only a few feet away. I work to school my features into something a little less worshipful, but I’m not sure I succeed because she looks at me with the strangest expression.

“Hey,” she whispers. “You clean up well.” She smiles.

I speak before I have time to consider my words. “And you look beautiful.” My voice comes out slightly strained. I smile and clear my throat.

“Thank you.” Hannah drops her gaze, but not before I see a faint blush stain her cheeks.

We both turn our attention back to the events inside the ballroom. I’m acutely aware of Hannah next to me. All I want is to pull her back into the hallway where we won’t be seen from the ballroom, press her against the wall and show her all the ways we could be amazing together. Her subtle fragrance surrounds me, tempting me to give in to my desires. I need to get away from her before I do something monumentally stupid. The small crowd inside the ballroom erupts into cheers and applause, snapping me out of my fantasy. The bride and groom share a brief kiss before turning back to face the room.

I glance over at Hannah who gives me a small, strained smile

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