Page 105 of My Best French Wedding

“Hold that thought,” Hildy said before Robbie could take off. “Could you give us one second?”

She bumped Walter backward so she could close the door, then sagged against it.

“What are we going to do?” he whispered.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you always have a plan.”

“For ruining the wedding of the century and making an enemy of the man who could tank both our jobs? Not so much,” she hissed. Though of course she did have the beginnings of an idea; Hildy was shocked, not dead. “We need to stall. Buy ourselves a few more hours.”

She yanked the door open, relieved Fiona and Robbie were still there. “Hey, guys! Super exciting concept, but you know what would be even better?”

They shook their heads.

“Picture this: sunrise, birds singing, a new dawn. The sky turns pink and yellow behind the castle, slowly lighting up the trees. New life, rebirth, a brand-new day. Champagne and warm croissants.It’s pure, it’s fresh, the symbolism is—” Hildy kissed her fingertips. “Chef’s kiss. What do you think?”

Fiona turned to Robbie. The two of them had a telepathic conversation for a few seconds before Fiona screeched, “Yes! I love it! Plus we’ll be able to see each other!” She turned to Hildy with an expectant air. “So like in a few hours? I don’t actually know what time the sun comes up.”

“Love the energy,” Hildy said. “But I was thinking the sunrise after that—your actual wedding day. So you can be well rested.”

“Excellent point.” Walter grabbed Hildy by the shoulders, like a coach getting ready to send her back into the game. “Let’s all get some sleep before the big day!”

“Okay. We’re definitely going to ‘rest.’ Just like you!” Fiona winked at them before taking Robbie by the hand and dragging him away.

“We are so fucked,” Hildy said when they were out of earshot. “We should never have told them about Carlee and Carlton.”

Despite the gravity of the moment, Walter smiled. “I guess we’re both still hung up on the past.”

“Such as it was.”

“You can admit it. We were good together, Hildy. I bet we still could be.”

Maybe he was talking about journalism, but Hildy couldn’t help glancing in the direction of the bed.

His brows shot up.

“We don’t have time for that,” she reminded him.

“So if time wasn’t an issue—”

Hildy pressed a finger to his lips. “Hush. All this talk about second chances is giving me an idea.”

36Walter

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE PRESCOTT-SCHAFER WEDDING

TAMNIÈS, France—“I’m all ears,” Walter said. Few things were more stimulating than having a front-row seat to one of Hildy’s brain waves. Since he also happened to be cooking up a separate plan that depended on the success of hers, he was doubly intrigued.

“I’ve been talking to Fiona about this wedding for months, right? And yes, she’s freaking out now—which I totally get—but a lot of this stuff was her idea. That girl waspumpedabout the bagpiper and her crystal shoes and the guys in lace-up shirts serving hors d’oeuvres.”

“And the carriage,” Walter reminded her.

“Exactly. The list goes on. These are things she’s going to be sad to miss—ifshe misses them.” She arched her brows, inviting him to guess.

“You’re going to talk her out of the secret sunrise wedding?”

Hildy shook her head. “I’m going to gently encourage her to do both.”