Page 49 of Demon On Deck

“Hey, Kallie. It’s Grace. We’ve got you on speaker.”

“Ok,” I reply, wondering what this could be about.

“We, well, mainly me, since Frosty is indifferent, were wondering if we could come in and look at some more options.”

“Absolutely,” I say cheerfully, although I’m surprised. “What kind of options would you like to see? Different tablescapes, bouquets?”

There’s a pause before Jackson chimes in. “Everything,” he says sheepishly.

It takes me a minute to stammer out an “Everything?” response as the floor bottoms out from beneath me. My mind races as I mentally catalogue the dozens of special order requests for flowers grown only by supernatural florists in the northernmost regions of the world, where Jackson’s family hails from. Not to mention all the specialty floral structures I ordered in advance to construct the wedding arch and aisle markers.

“Kallie? Are you there?” Grace says, indicating my silence has stretched a beat too long due to my internal spiral.

I mean, can’t fault a girl. This has been a dumpster fire atop a train wreck in the midst of a shit show of a day.

“Sorry, I must have cut out,” I try to cover. “So we’re starting from scratch?” I ask in the calmest voice I can muster.

Grace hums thoughtfully. “Not necessarily. I was watching reruns of an old wedding-planning reality show, and there was an episode that really caught my attention on the floral front. Bold, tropical flowers bursting in a rainbow of color. I was just thinking maybe we could look at some options and compare them to the original plan. If that’s okay?” she ends on a hesitant question that immediately makes me feel like an uncaring, money-hungry bitch.

“Of course!” I exclaim. “We have plenty of time to change things if that’s the direction you want to go.”

Okay, that may be a stretch. If I have to start from scratch, and depending on the flowers and availability, it may be down to the wire. Not how I like to do things, but this is a wedding that could propel the business to the next level.

If I survive the legal battle, I think grimly.

They both let out a breath of what I hope is relief, indicating I’ve redeemed my initial reaction.

“Awesome,” Grace says happily.

“When did you want to come by? I can get something together by the end of next week.”

Jackson clears his throat. “Could you make that Tuesday? Grace and I are going out of town on Wednesday and won’t be back for a few weeks. Mini vacation for my workaholic—OW!” Jackson yelps. “That was my nipple!”

“Mind your mouth, Frosty. I am not a workaholic, and even if I was, that's the pot calling the damn kettle black.” Grace snarks as a dog barks in the background. “See, even Mistletoe⁠—”

“Mischief,” Jackson growls.

“Mistletoe agrees.”

If I weren’t so stressed, I’d be cackling.

Jackson starts to retort, but Grace cuts him off. “Sorry about that, Kallie. Will Tuesday mid-morning be okay?”

I swallow down the lump of anxiety lodged in my throat. I can’t say no, but I also have the appointment with Neeve to drop off my financials and meet the forensic accountant. I could prep everything and let Grey handle it, but with this being such an important client, I want to handle it myself.

“Tuesday is perfect. I’ll see you guys then,” I say with a little too much false enthusiasm.

“See you then,” Jackson says.

“Bye, Kallie,” Grace says just before the call ends.

Fuck. My. Life.

I set the phone down and massage my temples as a massive headache begins to form.

“You okay?”

I look up to find Grey with his head poking in the doorway.