Save the Date Read online

  “Oh, thank goodness.” The relief in her voice is clear.

  “You’ll have to pay extra for shipping, though,” I warn.

  Tiffany waves a hand, those black nails cutting through the air. “That won’t be a problem.”

  I look at Alex, who’s immersed in his phone once more. It’s like he can sense my gaze upon him once again, and he glances up, though I can tell from his expression that he’s distracted. “It won’t.”

  We all remain quiet for a moment while I enter in the information and both Alex and Tiffany are on their phones. I show them the next day air shipping charge and Alex doesn’t even bat an eyelash, though Tiffany’s mouth drops open and she starts to protest.

  “That’s sort of ridiculous, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t control UPS or FedEx prices,” I say with a little shrug.

  “They charge that much because they know they can command it,” Alex says, his deep voice sending the tiniest shiver rippling through me. “It’s fine,” he tells me, his voice quiet, his gaze locked on mine. Good Lord, he’s sooooo attractive. How did this happen? “Order them next day air.”

  “Okay,” I say with a little nod before I start tapping on the iPad. “I’ll just need to get all of your personal information and how you want the save the date cards to be worded. Once we get that order in, then we’ll move onto the invitations.”

  And that’s where it gets awkward, because Alex rises to his feet, that ever-present phone clutched in his hand, gaze already focused on the front door. “I’ll let you take care of everything else, Tiff. I need to get going.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her disappointment is clear, and all I can think about is how relieved I am to get him out of the building. He’s too handsome, his presence too overpowering, and did I mention how delicious he smells? Because he smells absolutely delicious, like expensive cologne and man.

  Weak description, I know, but that’s the best I can do under these current circumstances.

  “I’ll be right back,” she tells me before she chases after Alex, accompanying him to the front entrance, and I swear I can hear her kiss him. Hear her tell him she loves him.

  Barf.

  And you know what? The dude never even said goodbye to me. Not a nice to see you again or a thanks for your help, nothing like that.

  What a rude bastard.

  Good. I’m extra glad he’s a bastard because that makes it easier to hate him, you know? And I need to hate him. Well, maybe not hate him, that seems extreme, but I definitely need to not like him very much. He doesn’t matter.

  So what if he was once my brother’s best friend? So what if he kissed me when I was twelve? That was a lifetime ago. I bet Carter barely remembers him. Alex Wilder is just another handsome workaholic who strolled into Noteworthy and hardly paid attention to me. Or to his freaking fiancée.

  Good luck with that one, I want to tell her.

  But of course, I don’t.

  Three

  Tiffany is gone within fifteen minutes of Alex’s departure. She had all the information stashed in her notes on her phone, like she’s prepared for this moment for months, yet they only just thought of getting invitations within the last seventy-two hours, since that was when she first contacted me?

  So weird.

  I’ve never been happier to get rid of a client before in my life. Being in this biz, I’ve met with a lot of crappy couples since I took on this job almost two years ago, and I’ve dealt with some extremely difficult people.

  But I’ve never, not once, been attracted to the groom. The groom I already know and kissed, which makes it even weirder.

  Oh, I’ve dealt with attractive men. Gorgeous men. Hot men. But it’s never been a big deal. When I’ve met one I usually thought to myself, oh wow, isn’t he’s super good looking, and moved on.

  I’ve never run into the future groom before our appointment, though. Never flirted with a future groom before either. So there’s that.

  Ugh, ugh ugh. Why did Tiffany’s fiancé have to be him? And why did he have to be Carter’s childhood friend? I need to just admit it now—he was my first crush. I thought his shy, nerdy ways were so adorable, and he was always so nice to me. None of Carter’s friends were ever nice to me.

  He soon became a fond memory, a nostalgic one where you remember fun summers from your childhood days.

  I fully planned on making him fantasy material. Hot guy in a suit at the coffee shop. That image had all sorts of possibilities, and so much freaking potential.

  Potential I’m not going to discuss at the moment. I am a lady who has manners on occasion.

  Now I know who hot suit guy is, and unfortunately, he belongs to someone else. Alexander Wilder. Fiancé of Tiffany Ratcliffe. Not that he seemed that into her. More like he was into his phone, not his fiancée.

  Which sucks, right? Makes me feel sort of bad for Tiffany. I mean, she’s going to marry this guy. I bet he’s selfish in bed…

  Okay, that’s the last thing I need to think about.

  Alex.

  In bed.

  Possibly naked.

  I close my eyes and shake my head, irritated with myself. I’m being ridiculous. Flirting with a guy—who was my almost forgotten first crush—just before eight in the morning for approximately two minutes doesn’t constitute anything. I need to let this go. I need to let him go.

  Alex Wilder is a taken man.

  Pushing him straight out of my brain, I focus on finishing the rest of the paperwork for their invites. We order everything digitally, but we keep hard copies too, since that’s Iris’s rules. Iris is the owner of Noteworthy, and she’s like a second mom to me. She’s also fairly old school, and while she loves modern conveniences like the internet, she is also a big believer in paper copies, considering she basically owns a paper store.

  So I get it. I send off the final order and then print all the forms out, grabbing them from the printer tray and adding them to my newly made Ratcliffe/Wilder folder, whistling low when I read that final total yet again. Tiffany’s eyes had gone wide when I gave her the total earlier, but she handed over a black credit card with Alex’s name on it and smiled.

  “Hope you don’t mind me using his credit card, even though he’s not here,” she said.

  It’s not our normal policy, but I didn’t even bat an eyelash. Just took the card and jammed it into the reader.

  Alex turned into one of those business types who makes a lot of money. I could tell by his suit, the Rolex on his wrist, how he didn’t seem bothered by the price of anything. Most of our clients are wealthy. Carmel-by-the-Sea is an adorable town on the California coast, and the residents in the area are well-to-do. Alex’s address is in Carmel—no surprise—while Tiffany’s address was in West Hollywood—kind of a surprise.

  “I worked as a model for a few years,” she made sure to tell me. “Almost got hired at Sur and would’ve been on the second season of Vanderpump Rules, but I lost the job to that one blonde chick on the show.”

  I absolutely, one-hundred percent did not believe her. I watch Vanderpump Rules. I know the plights of Tom and Tom and Kristen and Katie and Stassi and Jax, and there was no blonde girl who started during the second season, so whatever.

  I also didn’t question if she lives with Alex now. It’s not my business, and besides, I don’t want to know. I’d rather imagine they live apart and perhaps Alex has become so suddenly enamored with me, that he’s willing to leave Tiffany and we can make beautiful, sweet love together for all eternity…

  No. I’m being ridiculous. He’s engaged to be married now. He is off limits.

  Off. Limits.

  Sighing, I wrap up the order for the save the date cards, wedding invitations and thank you cards, three hundred each. I put an extra rush on the save the date cards, hit submit, and write Order Pending in red ink across the top of the form before I gather up the paperwork and drop it on Iris’s desk.

  It’ll be the first thing she’ll see when she gets here, and it’ll make her happy. Business hasn’t been the best in the last few years. So many people can order their cards and invites online, and I understand why they do it. It’s convenient, it’s quick and the selection is amazing.

  Do they get our expertise, though? Our guidance? Our prices are just as good as the ones online, plus they get our opinions and assistance, and that, my friends, is valuable. Sometimes, though, it doesn’t seem valuable enough.

  Everyone wants quick and easy nowadays. Instant gratification. Myself included. It’s just the world we live in…

  The bell above the door rings and I glance up to find Iris walking in, a slight scowl on her face.

  “Caroline, my love, the front door wasn’t locked,” she says in greeting as she approaches my desk.

  “I thought I locked it when my clients left,” I tell her weakly, though it’s a total lie. As usual, I got distracted and forgot to lock the door.

  “You didn’t, darling. And that’s so dangerous. Someone could’ve walked right in,” she gently chastises as she makes her way past my desk and heads for her tiny office. I know the moment she spots the order form when I hear her gasp of delight. “Oh, what a fantastic way to start the day.”

  “I figured you’d think so,” I tell her, opening up a fresh screen on the computer and entering Alexander Wilder, Carmel CA in the Google search bar.

  I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m too curious to stop. I hit images first so I can stare at him and maybe find some photos where he looks bad to make myself feel better, but of course, he never looks bad.

  More like he always looks too damn good.

  I click out of the images before I drive myself crazy and try to focus on vital information. He’s twenty-eight—I should’ve already figured this out, since Carter is as well. His father is a hotel developer, and he works for the family business, which I never knew, but why would I care about that sort of thing when we were kids?

  He’s also the oldest of three. He was on the football team in high school. He went to Stanford.

  Um, of course he did.

  His youngest brother has autism and he supports Autism Speaks with donations and the occasional volunteer work. He’s known as a white knight within the local community—the oldest son and heir apparent to his family’s fortune, plus a do-gooder—AKA the ultimate catch. His latest cause is spearheading a committee that wants to preserves landmark hotels all over California, restoring them to their previous pristine condition.

  Geez. He’s perfect on paper and in person.

  I despise him.

  Okay, that’s a little harsh. I don’t despise him. But my newfound fascination with Alex Wilder is…annoying. I need to focus on other things. Work things. I check my phone. It’s not even ten o’clock yet, but since I showed up at eight, I get to leave two hours earlier than normal, which is awesome. Maybe I could take a walk on the beach. Go for a run with Stella—her fascination with exercise is mind boggling, but sometimes an inspiration.

  Or maybe I could go home and take a nap.

  Yeah, that’s probably what I’ll end up doing.

  “Caroline! Can you come in here for a moment?” Iris calls from her office.

  It’s go time.

  I arrive back at our apartment a little after three, iced latte from downstairs in hand, to find Stella curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a fleece blanket and watching Netflix on her laptop.

  “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before again?” I tease as I shut and lock the door. I have no room to talk, since I’ve seen that movie approximately ten billion times since it came out.

  Noah Centineo is hot like fire.

  “Nothing else sounded good,” Stella says, her voice muffled by the blanket that’s way too close to her mouth.

  I set my purse on the narrow kitchen counter and take a sip from my drink. “This isn’t as good as yours,” I tell her. Becky, one of the late afternoon baristas at Sweet Dreams Café, made my latte. And while she’s a nice person and a pretty decent coffee drink maker, she’s not nearly as good as Stella.

  “It’s a two latte day?” Stella asks. She knows I’m addicted to coffee, but I do on occasion like to watch my caffeine intake.

  “Yeah.” I join her on the couch, tugging the end of her blanket so it drapes across my lap. She hits the space bar on her keyboard, stopping Peter Kavinsky mid-sentence. “How was work?” I ask.

  “Same ol’, same ol’,” Stella says, sitting up straighter and suddenly watching me with a particular gleam in her eye. “Except for the dude in the suit.”

  Great. I do not want to talk about the dude in the suit. “What dude in the suit?”

  Oh, I am such a liar.

  “You know who I’m talking about.” Stella grabs one of the throw pillows and tosses it at my face. I grab it before it hits me, clutching it to my front.

  “What about him?” I ask warily.

  “After you left, he asked about you,” Stella says with a little smirk.

  Now it’s my turn to sit up straighter. “What do you mean? What did he ask?”

  “He asked me if your name was Caroline. Since he heard me call you that. He also asked what your last name was.” The smug look on Stella’s pretty face tells me she’s feeling pretty pleased.

  “Please tell me you didn’t give him all my personal deets.” I can imagine her listing my stats, my address, my social security number…

  “Of course I didn’t.” Stella rolls her eyes. “He could be a serial killer for all we know.”

  This is why we’re the best of friends. We think alike.

  “Here’s the deal.” I pause. “I know him.”

  Stella sucks in an audible breath. “What? How?”

  “You won’t believe it. It’s so weird.” I lean in closer. “He was Carter’s best friend in middle school, before he switched to another high school. Went to boarding school or something like that.”

  “Get out.” Stella shoves my shoulder.

  “I’m serious. I’m thinking he remembered me because you told him my name. Or maybe he recognized me too? I don’t know. I think I’ve changed a lot since I was twelve.” I make a face. God help me, I hope I’ve changed a lot since I was twelve. I was an awkward, messy child with a mouth full of metal and crazy hair.

  “What a coincidence. And you didn’t recognize him?”

  “Not at first,” I say with a shake of my head. “When I knew him, he was tall and gangly with pimples and braces and he wore glasses.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Stella makes a face.

  “It was just the typical teenage awkward stage, you know? He was actually really sweet to me.”

  We go quiet for a moment, both of us thinking our thoughts, until I finally have to ask something.

  “So…did he say anything else about me?” I try to make my voice sound casual, but it doesn’t work. I sound like a hyped-up teen who just sucked helium out of a balloon.

  “Not really.” Stella shrugs. “Maybe he’ll come into the café again tomorrow morning.”

  “And I won’t be there because I’m never there before eight,” I tell her.

  “Sometimes you are,” she points out, and I shake my head.

  “Rarely. Besides, it doesn’t matter.” I pluck at the blanket in my lap. Ugh, I hate how defeated I sound.

  Stella frowns. “Why not?”

  Wait a second. I never even told her how I know who he is. “You won’t believe what happened.”

  “What, what?” She reaches out and grabs hold of my foot, giving it a vigorous shake.

  So I explain to her the appointment. Snotty Tiffany. The fiancé who’s keeping us waiting, only to finally enter the shop and reveal himself as…

  “Turns out he was hot suit guy,” I finish. “Alex. Carter’s old best friend.”

  “Oh no. Are you serious?” Stella asks, her big brown eyes even bigger than normal.

  Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Yes, Stel. I’m serious.”

  “He’s Tiffany’s fiancé?”

  “Yes.”

  “Shit!” Stella punches the top of the couch with enough force that I jump. Jeez, she can be violent sometimes. “I thought he was into you.”

  I can’t help the tiny thrill that courses through me at her words. “He’s definitely not into me.” Nope, he can’t be. “He has a fiancée. He’s getting married.” I add heavy emphasis on that last word.

  “He was flirting with you,” Stella says.

  “No.” I wave a hand, ignoring the hope blooming in my chest. See? I’m not the only one who noticed the flirting. “He was just being friendly. Probably trying to figure out who I was, since we sort of know each other.”

  “No. I know flirting when I see it.” Stella points at me. “And he was totally flirting. With. You.”

  “There is absolutely no reason for us to talk about this,” I say with a sigh and a pitiful little shake of my head. “He’s a taken man.”

  “But you said his fiancée sucks.”

  “She kind of does. But maybe he sucks now too? A lot can change in…” I calculate the last time I saw him. “Fourteen years. And he was friends with my brother.” I grimace. My thoughts on Carter aren’t the best.

  “Right. Two fourteen-year-old boys hanging out are usually nothing but trouble,” Stella mutters, making me laugh.

  “Seriously. He doesn’t matter.” If I keep saying that, maybe I’ll believe it.

  “If you say so.” Stella scowls. “Maybe he’s a cheater. That’s why he flirted with you.”

  “Jump to conclusions why don’t you.”

  “You never know.”

  “He doesn’t seem that into her.” When Stella sends me a look, I continue, “His fiancée. He’d rather interact on his phone than listen to her.”

  “What does he do?” When I send her a blank look, she continues. “For work?”

  “Oh. I guess his family owns a bunch of hotels?”

  “Huh.” Stella goes quiet, staring off into space for a few seconds before snapping her fingers. “Wait a minute. His name is Alex? Is his last name Wilder?”