Page 101 of The Roman Holiday Rule

“I’m Kathryn, and this is my fiancé, Noah. It’s nice to meet you.”She twists her gorgeous, thick, dark curls into a twist and clasps it in place with a clip.

Noah tugs a curl she missed, smiling at her in a way that breaks my romantic, hurt heart all over again. A little over a week ago, Mark tucked my hair behind my ear in the Vespa rental office, his look adoring and his half-smile emerging as the prologue to a joke. Now I have my hair all to myself.

“We’re looking for a wedding planner. I’m sorry I didn’t make an appointment before coming in—should we make one now or...”

“No, I can fit you in for a preliminary meeting. Let’s move to our client meeting room.”

I grab my tablet and lead them past the tiny kitchen to a small, comfortable room with two couches and a coffee table with fresh hydrangeas in a vase. “Have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?”

They decline and sit. Kathryn smiles at me disarmingly. It’s a mix of sheepish awkwardness and kind interest. Noah settles his arm around her, clearly along for the ride but supportive.

“You come highly recommended.” She’s sweet and earnest, and I like her immediately.

“Oh?” I give her a chance to tell me who, but she plows ahead.

“We would have come in earlier, but we hadn’t settled on a date yet.” She glances at Noah, and he gives her a furtive, secretive smirk. “Is two months from now too soon?”

“Well, that depends on your chosen venue and how big a wedding you’d like.”

She points at me. “Yes. Venues. That’s the first thing we need to figure out. I’d love to have the wedding at Park Street Church and the reception—”

I grin. “Wait, if you’re sure you want us, we should sign the contract outlining the description of services first.”

She drops against the couch back. “Oh, sorry. It’s just all so exciting.”

I hand them the paperwork and they promise to read, fill out the blanks with their information, sign, and bring it to our nextappointment. Then she tells me about the church and the fountain in the Boston Common nearby. I’ve never done a wedding there—honestly, we don’t even do too many weddings anymore. We focus more on product launches, corporate events, digital strategy, and branding, so I’m very curious who recommended us.

“I can give the venue a call and see what they have open for early October.”

“Could we set up a time to look at it? Just so I can make sure it’s what I want.”

“Absolutely.”

I make the call and, with my hand covering the phone, pass along the offer of a tour two weeks from today.

Kathryn’s face falls. “Anything earlier? We’re available at the drop of a hat. Anytime at all.”

I chuckle. “Let me check.”

In the end, we settle on a week from tomorrow at noon. As they rise to leave, Kathryn gives me a quick hug. “Sorry. I know that’s weird but I’m just so excited.”

She pulls away, tears in her blue eyes. Tears? I wish. I ran out of those days ago.

Noah takes her hand and another deeply understanding smile passes between them, full of their history and love.

This might be the last wedding event I ever agree to do. It never used to be this hard.

Fifty-Seven

Lexi

Tuesday,a week later, dawns with low clouds and the smell of rain. Good. The sky can have the tantrum I can’t.

When I walk into the office, Julie is already there, and she gives me a pained, compassionate grimace.

“I’m fine.” I straighten a file on my desk.

“No, you’re wallowing underneath all that productivity. I’m onto your tricks.”