Party Favors, page 25
A half hour before the party was to begin, Sunny arrived. She was wearing a bright yellow dress and looked adorable. She rushed over to me. “Everly! This is beyond anything I could have imagined. Thank you so, so much.”
It was pretty perfect, if I did say so myself. She didn’t need to know about the earlier struggles we’d had—she deserved an amazing day. I didn’t want her to stress. As far as Sunny was concerned, everything would go just as we’d planned, no matter what else came up.
“How did you make it look just like a big top?” she asked, turning in a circle to get the full effect.
“Lots of planning,” I told her with a smile. I had wanted an upscale circus feel and that was exactly what I had. The main room was breezy and airy, the pastel pink and blue linens draping up toward the center with lines of tiny pastel triangle flags hanging down like tent poles. Jugglers, balloon artists, a magician, stuffed animals in fancy birdcages that would be perfect to donate after this was over. There were multiple booths set up with carnival games, along with more donatable prizes. A huge box near the door had a sign hung on it with the name of Max’s charity and a note that all presents and donations could be left there.
Sunny’s eyes welled up with tears, and she started fanning her hands in front of her face as she looked up to the ceiling. “Pregnancy is making me so hormonal, but I love it all. I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”
“I’m so happy that you like it! Beside the carnival games we’ve got some fun stations set up,” I told her. “Over there we want to have people write a message on a diaper with a permanent marker for you and your husband, but you can’t see them until the shower is finished. I’ve hidden pacifiers all over this room and there’s going to be a prize for whoever finds the most. We’ve got a station for decorating onesies and bibs and a Polaroid station where people take a picture of themselves and write down what day they think the baby will be born. We’ll hang their photos up on this line with tiny clothespins,” I said. “There should be something to keep everyone entertained and having a great time.”
Sunny started to cry more earnestly now. “This is so wonderful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
A man appeared, carrying a large bag. He was familiar and it took me a second to place him. He was Sunny’s husband.
Which he confirmed when he offered me his hand and said, “Hi, I’m Todd Belmont. Thank you so much for pulling this together for us at the last minute.” He smiled. “ And my wife doesn’t usually cry, so take it as a huge compliment.”
I smiled back as I shook his hand. “And I’m Everly Aprile. It’s good to meet you and thank you.”
“Everly?” he said, his eyebrows raising as he turned toward Sunny. “Is that the same one that Max—”
Sunny put both of her hands on my arms and said, “Can I talk to you real fast, Everly?”
She dragged me away from her husband and took me over to the base of the stairs. “Sorry about him,” she said. “Men. Always saying things they shouldn’t.”
That hadn’t really been my experience. I couldn’t get Max to say anything to me.
“There is something I want to tell you,” she went on, “and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way.”
Now I felt anxious and concerned. “Is there something wrong with the shower?”
“What? No! It’s sheer perfection and you are an event-planning goddess. I want to say something about Max.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person today to do so,” I told her.
She frowned slightly but pressed on. “Max has been really hurt in the past. There are people who have taken advantage of him and his good nature. Please treat him well.”
“I intend to,” I said, feeling a little breathless. Had Max asked her to speak to me?
No, he wouldn’t have done that. But they were close, and if Sunny had felt like she needed to say something . . .
She might not be literally speaking for Max, but these could still be his words.
“You make him really happy,” she said. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him like this.”
While I wanted to discuss this with her until we were both sick of the topic, I heard new voices and realized that some guests had started arriving. I would have to explain the different events to every new person who came in and Sunny needed to say hello to her guests.
“We should get back out there,” I told her. “People have started arriving.”
It was easy to slip into event planner mode, to make sure that everyone had a glass of champagne and an idea of where they should head next. About half an hour after all one hundred of her guests had arrived, we would start preparing to serve the luncheon. Sunny wouldn’t be opening presents as was customary since she planned on donating them all. She had thought it would be a nice touch for the new recipients to leave them in the wrapping paper.
Everything was going perfectly until Max walked in and I suddenly forgot how to speak.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Max was dressed upscale casual—khaki pants and a light blue button-down that matched his eyes perfectly. While I had known he was going to knock me off my feet, I hadn’t adequately prepared myself for how heavy the blow would be.
He handed his coat to the staff member I’d assigned to the job and he turned, his gaze landing on mine.
I stood there and stared at him. What was I supposed to say? Some nagging part of my brain was trying to remind me that I had something important to tell him, but in that moment I could not remember what it was.
He came over to me. “Everly, you look beautiful.”
Then he pressed a soft kiss to my left cheek, lingering there, until he pulled back slightly to do the same to my right cheek. My body flushed under his touch and from his proximity.
Max, Max, Max, my hormones called out to him, willing me to throw myself into his arms.
“Thank you,” I said after he finished. And whether that was for the compliment he’d paid me or the hello kiss, I wasn’t sure.
His lips parted and he took in a short breath, like he intended to do . . . something. Speak?
Kiss me?
But I didn’t get to find out because Margot Belmont arrived and claimed him. “Max! I’m so glad you were able to join us. Let me show you around.”
Then he left with her. He said nothing to me and just left.
Again.
Which was probably my fault because he knew I’d gone on a date with Adrian. He had been polite and kind, because he was Max, but he might be really upset with me.
I shifted into automatic mode, my brain disconnected from the rest of my body. I continued greeting guests, explaining the different stations and pointing them over in Sunny’s direction so that she could say hello as well. I also watched Max the entire time as he interacted with different people, laughing and smiling as he drank his champagne.
Hmph. I wished this weren’t an event and that I could knock back a couple of glasses. I felt like I needed something to help me calm down. My poor battered nerves were now completely on edge. It took everything I had to put a fake smile on and pretend like Max wasn’t in the same room with me and that I wasn’t freaking out.
I counted the hundredth person, a little bit surprised that everyone who had RSVP’d yes had actually showed up. I went into the kitchen to give Jeanine the heads-up that I’d seat the guests in about half an hour.
“Got it,” she said. “Oh, and by the way, the mother-in-law was asking about a specific vase that she had in the living room and can’t find now. She wants someone to locate it.”
That someone would have to be me.
I headed upstairs and into one of the rooms where we’d shoved all the furniture. I hadn’t been up here to direct the movers and they had just sort of put things wherever, which made it difficult to get around. I climbed over benches and around tables, looking for the vase. I thought I spotted it behind a couch and had just started to climb over to reach it when I heard, “Everly?”
Of course. Of course Max would come looking for me when I was face down, butt up. I immediately stood and turned toward him.
He closed the door behind him. We stood there in silence for a few beats, a heavy longing filling the space between us. Then he said, “I’m going to kiss you. If you don’t want me to, tell me now.”
His words thrilled me, the demand and wanting I heard in them. I liked take-charge Max.
With a masculine grace and ease, he started skirting around the furniture like it wasn’t even there, never taking his eyes off me.
My heart was thudding so hard that I was sure he could hear it, and my eager anticipation built with each step he took.
When he reached me, he stood so close that I felt a phantom imprint of him on my skin. My heart was stumbling over itself and I could see his pulse beating hard at the base of his throat.
I whispered, “Shouldn’t we talk?”
“After.”
This time I knew what was coming. And instead of it easing off the anticipation, it made it worse. I wanted his mouth on mine.
Now.
In answer to my unspoken demand, Max slid a hand behind my head and kissed me.
He did it like he’d been trapped underwater for the last five minutes and the only way that he could breathe again was by kissing me. It was desperate and frantic and needy and everything I could have ever asked for.
There was no question that Max wanted me.
It also immediately let me know that our last kiss hadn’t been a one-off, or some kind of cosmic aberration. No, Max really did just kiss that well, like he was a professional athlete and this was his event and he’d done nothing but practice for the last ten years straight.
It also meant that Vella was right and I hadn’t tricked him into it at the Empire State Building. He hadn’t done anything he didn’t want to do, given the way he was kissing me right now.
Then everything blurred together as we wrapped ourselves around each other. It would have been impossible to see where one of us began and the other ended. Yet I still needed to get closer to him.
He seemed to have the same need, as his hand found the warm, sensitized skin at the back of my neck, urging me closer.
His scorching mouth was firm, his fiery kisses adding fuel to the fire that was burning between us. I was exhilarated, lightheaded, my nerve endings vibrating with bliss and heat.
I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of pleasure that seemed to travel through every part of my body. I had missed him so much.
And I could tell from the fervent, bruising way he kissed me that he’d missed me just as desperately.
He leaned against me and I felt like I was falling . . . until I realized that I actually was falling, that he had accidentally pushed me back onto the couch I’d been climbing on when he entered the room.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said, his low voice sounding chagrined.
I, however, was quite happy with how things were turning out and just smiled at him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his body pressing mine down against the cushions. I loved the gentle concern in his voice. He started to leverage himself in order to stand up.
“I am very happy right now,” I told him, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him back down to my lips.
Max made a sound in his chest and then deepened the kiss, parting my lips with his. My veins caught fire, burning up with desire and need. I was dizzy from his touch, his kiss, his labored breathing. Everything he was doing told me that he needed me as much as I needed him.
“Whoa!”
Max lifted his head and we both peered over his shoulder to see Vella standing in the doorway. He easily got to his feet but it took some pushing and adjusting to help me stand as well.
Mostly because my limbs refused to cooperate.
Vella was covering her eyes. “You don’t know how sorry I am to interrupt you, both because I didn’t need to have that image burned into my retinas but I also want you to have your happy reunion. Maybe when I’m clear of this room, though. But I came up here because there’s a problem.”
“Did you punch somebody?” I asked. I was still so out of breath.
“No,” she said indignantly, dropping her hands. “And before you ask, I didn’t light anyone’s hair on fire, either, even though there are quite a few people at this party that deserve it. I can tell how judgmental all these people are just by looking at them. The issue is that like, thirty more guests just arrived.”
It was like getting kicked in the stomach. “Are you serious?”
“A big group showed up after you and Max . . . you know. Apparently they’re guests of Margot’s and she didn’t bother telling you or Sunny that they were coming.”
“This is why we have final head counts.” I ground the words out, clenching my teeth together in frustration.
“What do you need?” Max asked, squeezing my hand to let me know that he was here for me.
“I have to talk to Jeanine. The food is going to be the major issue right now. I’m also going to need like three more tables set up with chairs to accommodate that many people. We have extra table linens just in case, so we should be good there.” I wouldn’t have enough centerpieces, but I could just take some of the stuffed animals and use them and hopefully nobody would notice how differently their tables were decorated from the others.
“I’ll take care of the tables,” he said. “I’ll go speak to Margot and see what she wants us to use.”
“Tell her I’m going to have to use her personal plates, glasses, and silverware as well.” If she wanted to spring a bunch of surprise guests on us, she could provide the things we needed to entertain and feed them. He nodded and I leaned up to kiss him on the cheek to thank him.
I ran downstairs to the kitchen and found Jeanine. She was preparing the first course, an organic mixed greens salad. I quickly filled her in and her eyes got wider with everything I said until they practically popped out of her head.
“But the final head count was a hundred people, not a hundred and thirty,” she protested.
“I know. But apparently the mother-in-law invited quite a few more people without telling anyone.” Despite begging for final head counts for this very reason, both Jeanine and I had been doing this for long enough that there was already a cushion built in to make sure we had food for a few additional people or to replace a couple of dropped plates.
But she wouldn’t have enough to cover thirty percent more guests.
The chef let out a big sigh. “We’ll have to rearrange the salads and then I’ll cut the meat of the main course in half to make sure we have enough. Maybe put out more bread.”
“I don’t think these are the kind of people who eat bread.”
“Probably not,” she agreed. She found her purse and pulled out a credit card, handing it to her sous chef. “You need to go to the nearest store and bring back all the fruits, vegetables, cheese, and crackers you can find. We’ll make up some trays and put them on a table near the kitchen in case anyone is still hungry.”
The sous chef nodded and took off.
“That’s a good idea,” I told her. “Give me the receipt so that I can make sure you get reimbursed.”
“I’ll definitely do that.” She tapped her fingers against the countertop. “Dessert shouldn’t be a problem. It’s a cake, so we’ll cut smaller slices.”
“If bread’s out, sugar probably is, too.”
“But they’ll drink, right? Tipsy people don’t seem to notice as much if they’re still hungry.” With that she told her servers to go back out and circulate with more champagne.
“I’m really sorry, Jeanine.” I could see how visibly stressed she was.
“It’s not your fault, Everly. And it sounds like it’s not the mother-to-be’s fault, either.”
“Nope.” This was all on Margot Belmont. Who I was sure was a nice person deep, deep down, but I was feeling a bit too stressed to look that hard.
I started raiding kitchen cabinets and found enough plates, cutlery, and glasses for the new guests. There was even a passing similarity to the ones Jeanine had brought with her.
After that was organized, I went out into the dining area and helped Max and two waiters set up the extra tables and chairs. We were as quick and efficient as we could be so that we’d create the least amount of disturbance to the guests, all one hundred and thirty of them.
Somehow everything came together. Jeanine reportioned the salads so that we could serve the first course, and the additional tables looked nice. Not as good as the others that I’d originally set up, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.
The sous chef and a waiter finished setting up the grazing table. If it had been left up to me, I probably would have bought prepackaged vegetable and fruit trays, but Jeanine had directed them to create a masterpiece. Everything was artfully arranged and appealing, like it had always been intended to be included.
Max came over to my right and looked over the grazing table and said, “No veggie dip? I don’t want to know what celery tastes like.”
That made me smile. “What’s wrong with celery?”
He grimaced. “It’s crunchy water with hair.”
“Do you also have strong feelings about the fruit?”
“Fruit is hit or miss. It kind of depends on what season it is and how fresh they are. Sometimes strawberries are amazing, other times they’re vile.”
I nodded. “That’s why you can’t go wrong with Oreos. They always taste the same. I also have an appreciation for grapes. Mostly in their liquid form.”
“So do I,” he said. “Especially when I can taste them on your lips.”
A warm tremor passed through me. I couldn’t let him distract me by saying or doing sexy things. I welled up all of my courage and let out a deep breath. Now or never.
“Max, we need to talk.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“About the celery?” he asked with a wicked glint in his eye.
“No. Are you okay to skip lunch?” Jeanine had all of this well under control now. I wasn’t going to be needed until after everyone had finished eating, and they’d only begun their first course. We had some time.
