She set the spoon on the counter, and then lounged back with me, her hands behind her. “What do you think?”

  “If I’m gonna be honest, I haven’t put that much effort into that side of the business. Call me naïve but I thought I could get away without it or at least very little. I figured my playing would get me to where I needed to be. Doing more will take even more man hours than I already put into this thing.”

  What I really meant was it would take more time away from her. I didn’t want that so I couldn’t say it. Turns out I didn’t need to.

  “So that means you’ll be away more,” she paused looking up at me. “Right?”

  Sighing, I felt her words more than I heard them. I brought my arms around her waist. “Baby…”

  She pulled back before I could get closer though she didn’t look mad. “Right? You need to do more, which means you need to be gone more? You can tell me.”

  I didn’t want to but I did. “Right.”

  Reaching up, she placed her hands on my cheeks and that smile of hers got my gut flip flopping in the craziest way. Always did. “Then that’s it. You go big I’m going too. That’s it.”

  God, this girl of mine. “I guess we go big together then?”

  She nodded. “Damn, straight.”

  After she jabbed a finger at me, right in my chest like a badass, I knew that was the end of that discussion. My girl made a decision and it was to be respected. We took dinner into the living room, making the rest of the condo smell just as good as the kitchen. We sat on the couch, drinking wine (though I had a beer) while we ate her pasta, the Miami beaches as our backdrop on the high level of this complex. This place wouldn’t be home forever but it was for now. We had each other here in our nice little space and that made it pretty all right for the time being.

  Roxie wanted to watch TV after dinner, so we did. I made her put her feet up in my lap, then quickly went into massaging them, each little toe one by one. She had of course protested as she said I should be the one with the hurting feet as I actually worked today. I didn’t consider my job work, and though it was tiring, I enjoyed it. I believed the real work was with her on this wedding stuff, which she quickly started in on once I poked her about it.

  “I really think he’s the one, babe,” she said referring to this particular wedding planner she didn’t have a bad thing to say about. “He really listened to me and made me feel comfortable about everything. There’s so much to do, but I think Troy really has my vision at heart, our best interest.”

  Her face lit up with every word she said about this guy, and though I sat calmly, contently, in the back of my mind I kept saying: thank the fucking God. She’d been so stressed before when she texted me during my lunch. I moved my hand to her instep, massaging there. “That’s great,” I told her. I gave a short laugh. “You really scared me before. I thought I was going to have to come down there and show someone the business. These people are supposed to make things easier for you not intimidate you.”

  Popping her hand over her mouth, she cringed, her fingers falling from her lips. “I’m so sorry. I meant to text you and let you know everything was okay.”

  Dropping her foot, I patted her calf. “It’s fine and as long as you got what you need I’m good.”

  She chewed her lip, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I think so. Can we book him? I didn’t want to do anything until I asked you first.”

  She really didn’t have to do that but I appreciated her thinking about me. I tapped her leg. “I do want to meet this guy, but if he’s got your seal of approval it should be fine.”

  Squealing, she launched herself into my arms. I’d do anything to make this woman happy. Anything. But what really rocked was I knew she cared about me just the same, and that was pretty freakin’ awesome.

  Griffin left for an away game in Toronto the following morning, and as I finally had a task of my own, planning this wedding of ours, I opted to stay home. He didn’t say it but this pleased him greatly. He woke me up before he left, kissing me on the cheek that he’d be back in two days, such as the life of a basketball player and his future wife.

  I had every right to feel overwhelmed; being by myself in Miami and all these event plans, but Griffin often traveled for extended time for his sport and Troy assured me I would have to worry about very little. That was his job. My real worrying came the first day the pair of us would take the town and jump into these wedding plans, but that meeting had nothing to do with my anxiety.

  “Ya’ll thinking about staying there then?” Griffin’s Grandma Rose (a.k.a. Gram to all her grandkids) asked me over the phone. “For the wedding?”

  So was the reason for my anxiety as I’d called her. Slamming my hip against my Mini Cooper, I closed the door I just came out of. I gazed down the busy, metropolitan strip looking for the address Troy texted me to meet him at for our first official consultation as wedding planner and bride.

  2551…

  2557…

  I paused my search for the right building focusing on my call to Gram for a second. “Is that okay?” I asked her. The clear worry in my voice was evident. In my most recent talk with her about the wedding, it seemed she wanted to have the gathering back in Texas. I’d called her before even meeting Troy that day, and though she wouldn’t say it, I could just tell, the excitement in her voice as she talked about cakes and settings. I ran Troy’s idea about the location of the wedding by Griffin the night I told him about the planner and he’d been game for it. Especially when he found out he could dress casually. I didn’t worry about his approval though. A destination wedding could be a burden on his family, as they’d all have to commute here. Griffin would offer to get them all out here if need be. I just knew him like that, but knowing his family they’d never take the offer. They were a very self-sufficient family.

  Chewing my lip, I pressed the phone to my ear. “Because if it’s not that’s fine. Texas would be a great location—”

  “Would you slow down, honey, and let an old woman get a word in.”

  She laughed but I didn’t. Covering my mouth, I gasped feeling rude. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, Roxie. Fine. And having the wedding there sounds wonderful. I’m sure it will be beautiful and everything you both dreamed.”

  I hoped it would. Troy shared some big plans with me the other day and since then I faxed him over more information. The regular stuff like bridal party size and names, yes, but also personal touches as well. My and Griffin’s likes and dislikes as far as food and other things. The sheet was so detailed I couldn’t help but notice and appreciate Troy’s thoughtfulness in actually wanting to both know and please his clients.

  Gram said goodbye after our chat a few minutes later, promising to give Griffin’s family my and Griffin’s love as well as send his half of the family’s guest list over. He’d left that duty up to her and she’d happily obliged. This really was happening. That fact set in when I found my wedding planner. Looking fly in a crisp set of jeans and button down shirt, Troy spotted me, reaching out for my hands automatically.

  “My bride,” he said taking them. He brushed his lips along the back of my hands just once before lowering them.

  Unprepared for the gesture, I couldn’t help the light laughter that touched my throat. I’d never get over that. Troy was definitely his own personality. I liked that.

  Releasing one of my hands, he patted the other. “Are you ready for today?”

  I had no idea what was in store but I was more than ready to begin. I gave him a nod and he threaded my arm through his guiding me inside this anonymous address he insisted I meet him at. Really, other than the building number designed in a curvy silver script on the front to the white brick there were no other unique elements to the building.

  A security guard met us inside, granting us access to the elevator he had to swipe a keycard to open.

  “Mr. Daniels,” he said, acknowledging him with a bow of his head, and then he smiled at me. “You must be this morning’s appointment.”

  Troy cut in before I could. “Yes, my newest client. She and her fiancé are planning a summer wedding,” he gushed, quoting information I’d given him.

  The security guard’s eyes lit up, stepping away from the elevator doors as they opened for Troy and myself. “I’m sure if Mr. Daniels is planning it will be a magnificent event. Enjoy the ride.”

  I laughed. “Thank you.”

  The elevator doors closed behind Troy and myself and I leaned over and said, “Your security guard is nice.”

  Troy’s light chuckle touched the air. “James is amazing, but he’s not mine. He just sees me a lot as I bring my clients here often.”

  I frowned. He said here. “Is this not your firm?” I asked. I assumed that’s where our consultation would be.

  Troy answered with a shake of his head. “No. Honestly, I rarely make it into the place. Too stuffy for me.”

  “We won’t be talking about all the specifics today?” I questioned, confused. “About the wedding?”

  Turning my way, his eyes crinkled in the corners at me. “Well, you said your fiancé would like to meet me. We can all talk initial shop then. My people are in talks with his agent to set that up. In regards to today, I wanted to focus on some of the information you faxed over. More specifically about you.”

  The elevator lights flashed to level five and he looked up. The doors opened and a white hallway greeted us both, the floors sparkling with crystal fragments from the light that bounced off them due to the sconces on the wall.

  “Okay…?” I answered Troy, distracted by the shimmering hallway. The set up reminded me of heaven.

  “You said your maid of honor lives in Michigan and the rest of your bridesmaids out of town as well?”

  Clare, my MOH, did as well as the rest of my friends from college. We all met on my school’s roller derby team.

  Troy paused just then. Lowering my hands, he faced me, his expression holding a seriousness I didn’t understand until well, I did.

  “And your mom,” he continued, making my heart suddenly jump. “She passed away when you were young, and you have no other siblings or family members on your side you’ll be sharing your plans with?”

  Well, there was my grandma on my mom’s side but she was elderly. I had aunts, uncles, and cousins of course. Though they’d get invitations I wasn’t close with them or anything. Then there was another person, but I didn’t dwell there. I just couldn’t right now. Nodding to Troy, I wondered why he asked this.

  Tilting his head, he gave me the warmest expression, his gray eyes softening at me. “I think today we focus on the bride.”

  The door before me opened for us and a bright light leaked into the hallway; it was as if a spotlight had been cast on Troy and myself. But it wasn’t a spotlight. The glow came from the dome skylight above, the Miami sunlight shining.

  Stepping inside, it didn’t feel like I was doing so on my own accord. I knew Troy was guiding me, my arm still wrapped around his, but I was distracted, distracted by the gorgeous gowns before me. At least a dozen women stood there, shimmering white and ivory gowns of various lengths and styles draped over their arms while they themselves wore tailored suits. In front of them was a chaise lounge adorned in beading, sparkling and shining in the white room.

  Troy guided me there, closer to the display of dresses I could only imagine in my dreams. Before now, this moment, I never thought about myself in one. This really was real.

  “We’re looking at dresses?” I asked him more so on autopilot. When I found his eyes they sported that familiar warm gaze.

  Releasing my arm, he settled his hands at his waist. “If you’ll allow me to share this moment with you, yes.” Giving a small nod, he lifted his head. “It would be an honor. Consider me a more bearded stand-in for your friends.”

  I stared at this man, a stranger only days ago. And although we still weren’t well acquainted, this simple gesture let me know I not only made the right choice about him but had also found an ally in this whole crazy process with him.

  In my short silence, his bright expression fell a bit. He opened his mouth. “Of course you don’t have to make any decisions today. But at least, by the end, you’ll kind of have an idea of what you’re looking for. If you want to proceed that is.”

  I couldn’t help it. I hugged him, and when I did, he didn’t flinch. Not at all.

  “I want to proceed,” I told him. Coming apart in more ways than one, my hands made it into his.

  He squeezed mine. “Then so we shall, my bride.”

  Gesturing for me to take a seat on the chaise lounge, Troy raised his other hand to the staff. “Please get the models in their dresses.”

  Seeing my wide eyes, he leaned down. “They’ll be showing for you today. You see something you like they’ll pull it for you to try on.”

  Holy crap. I could only nod.

  With a snap of his fingers, the women filed out, gowns in hand. One woman stayed, a tall woman with raven hair and large diamond studs on her ears.

  Troy settled his arm on her shoulder. “Roxie, this is Stasha. Consider her my number one. You’ll be working closely with her. If for some reason I’m ever unavailable, she will be able to assist you in any way you need.”

  After we exchanged hellos, Troy leaned in once again. “How about a drink before we begin. Hot tea? Mimosa?”

  I really couldn’t get over all this but managed to answer, “Tea.”

  Stasha flitted off when he gave her the command and returned with both that and a notebook and pen for me. “For your notes,” she said.

  For my notes. I guess I really was ready to begin.

  Shutters clicked and lights flashed, the post-game conference in full swing. Interviewers shot their questions off in rapid fire. For the most part they were aimed at Kendrick Donavon, our point guard. I wasn’t surprised as he drove our team into another win against Toronto.

  “Kendrick! Kendrick!” So much of the press shouted at the same time, I couldn’t even gather who was saying the man’s name and when. Eventually a guy was chosen to get his question in, sitting in his suit with his hand in the air. “Kendrick, what were you feeling in that last quarter? I mean, it was pretty tight after half-time, but you took it away towards the end there. Were you pretty relaxed you’d take this thing home?”

  Kendrick gripped the microscope, rocking his aviator shades. Shit, the guy was smooth. He cleared his throat a bit. “Nothing lets you relax in this game, man. Things can change on a dime. My fellow teammates and I play hard to the end. That doesn’t stop just because you’re up a few points. That’s what got us ahead after half and kept us up there.”

  The rest of our team nodded with him. Yeah, the man was cool. I could only pray for half the career he had one day.

  The prompter went to take the microphone away, but the interviewer had a follow up question. “You got the team the majority of the points this win. In fact, record numbers for a single game. Is this just you getting started this season?”

  Kendrick tipped his head back giving a deep laugh. “If Chandler keeps backing me up like he did today, I definitely feel safe saying that.”

  Chandler? Shit, that was me. I rose up the questions redirecting towards me, and so many lights flashed my way with them I couldn’t even tell you where they came from. Pretty soon one got through. One on the right I think. “Griffin, you’ve had an excellent starting year. Should Kendrick be worrying about his spot?”

  The crowd laughed, Kendrick included, so I felt okay about joining in. Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose (I forgot my extra set of contacts at home), I leaned into the microphone. “Kendrick is a legend. I don’t think I’ll be taking that spot anytime soon but thanks for the compliment. I’ve had a good run.”

  The questions moved on, and out of the corner of my eye, I found a familiar face. I played him last night so I wasn’t surprised. Ryan, my teammate from college, leaned against a wall in the far back corner. Grinning, he was shaking his head at me, no doubt for my craptastic interviewing skills.

  I met him at the back after the conference wrapped up, bringing him into a shake and one-armed hug, slapping his back once.

  “I should be pissed you beat us,” he said letting go of me. “But I can’t envy any man who looked like that up there. You didn’t even take your damned glasses off.”

  He went to swipe them but I beat him to the punch, sliding them off into my back pocket. I flipped him the bird before crossing my arms. “Give me a fuckin’ break. I’m near-sighted.”

  That’s what I got for not letting Roxie help me pack before I left. She normally did but I told her I’d be fine. My dumb ass waited until the morning of to do it so of course I forgot something. Got a tear in one of my contacts this morning so I’d been forced to wear my glasses, something I never did.

  Ryan laughed shaking his head. I’d never get over the guys lack of dreads. He chopped them off after college. He probably just wanted to change up his look for his new career as a professional player. How ironic that mine got a little longer and his shorter. “Hey, when y’all leaving?” he asked. “We can grab an early lunch before you go.”

  Lifting my wrist, I checked my watch. I should be able to swing that since our plane doesn't head back to the states until this afternoon. I was about to tell him that when Rich, my new publicist, came around the corner. He cut between me and Ryan, slapping me on the back with a wide grin. “Excellent work, Griffin. Already got the favor of the star point guard I see.”

  Ryan eyed this new guy who pushed between us. I quickly went into introducing him. “Ryan, this is Rich. My new publicist. Rich, Ryan. We played together in college and went head to head in last night’s game as you might recall.”

  Ryan tipped him a nod, but didn’t give Rich much of a smile. The guy did just butt into our conversation so I guess I wasn’t surprised. He tended to do that. I remember he did the same even in the presence of Mickey. Though Ryan didn’t give him much of a warm regard, Rich didn’t seem phased. He turned to him. “Rough loss, my friend. But who can help that when you got guys like Griffin on the court.”