My Trust Fund Billionaire

Paisley has been my best friend for eight years. I’d leap on top of a bomb for her, but sometimes I really wish she came with a mute button. I know that sounds terrible, but all she’s been talking about for the past two weeks is her friend Mary and the guy her friend’s marrying, Luke something or other.

I’m sick to death of hearing about how ridiculously, absurdly, disgustingly cute they are. Since I’m about to see Pais, I brace myself for another onslaught of the same.

I’ve met Paisley for breakfast at the Rise-n-Dine almost every Saturday morning for more than six years now, a sorority tradition that we maintained, even though our sorority sisters peeled off one by one. It’s a good thing the diner’s sweet potato pancakes are so good, or I’d have been sick of it years ago.

Or maybe I still insist on coming here because I value familiarity more than your average person.

“Geode!” Paisley’s smile almost cracks her face in half when she sees me.

I walk the last few steps and slide into our normal booth. The wood’s worn smooth and the tables are shiny. Blue glass bottles full of flowers decorate the shelf that wraps around the wall. Some people might argue it needs a refresh, but I think the décor gives it the same homey feel it had freshman year. I missed home then, and I still do today.

“I ordered your pancakes already,” Paisley says.

I lift one eyebrow, but I can’t summon any irritation. It’s not like I was planning to order anything else. I always order what I like, and Paisley knows me well enough to know what that is. “Thanks.”

Paisley on the other hand hasn’t ever ordered the same thing twice. If there’s a special, she’ll eat that. If there isn’t, she’ll ask them to mash something together for her. Cookie dough pancakes. Bubble gum milkshake. Lemonade French toast. If someone thinks of something wacky, Paisley’s sure to try it.

“I don’t usually beat you here.” Paisley wiggles her eyebrows. “Late night?”

I roll my eyes. “Not like you mean. Charity auction for a client.”

Paisley drums her shiny, magenta polished fingers on the table. “Please tell me you at least took a date.”

“You know my rules. But I knew you’d badger me for going alone, so I took a friend.”

“Rob doesn’t count.”

I scrunch up my nose. “Why doesn’t Rob count?”

Paisley ticks things off on her fingers. “He’s hot. He has a great job. He thinks you’re amazing. He comes whenever you crook your little finger.” She bobs her head. “Taking Robbie Graham should be a date. But you utterly lose any credit I’d give you because—“ she leans forward and drops her voice. “Does your heart rate spike when you think about kissing him? Do your toes curl at the idea? Does your breathing speed up, and do your hands get clammy?”

I grimace. “My hands never get clammy.”

She huffs.

I force myself to think about kissing Rob, and bile rises in my throat. “Uh, no. Not exactly.”

She leans back. “You should be dating. Your rules are stupid.”

“I’m happy, so you should be happy for me.” I didn’t expect to miss talking about that dumb wedding.

“How long has it been since someone made your heart race, Geo?”

I shake my head. She shouldn’t need to ask me this stuff.

She crosses her arms and leans back against the booth bench. “You can’t tell me you haven’t even been a teensy bit excited about anyone in more than three years. Clients, vendors, hotel or venue owners? You meet more people in one week than I do all year.” She lifts one eyebrow.

When I don’t offer anything, she doggedly continues.

“It’s almost four years now, girl. It’s time. Take the blinders off and look around. I ignored your insistence on those dumb rules because I thought they were like a cast for your heart. They kept you safe. But casts come off sometime, and in this case, I’m the doctor. It’s time to cut that stinky cast off.” She picks up her hands and mimes using a chainsaw.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be stupid. It’s not a cast. My rules keep my life ordered and happy. I love my job, I like my friends well enough. Most of the time.”

She shakes her head. “Not good enough. You should want more.”

“Why?” I ask. “Because you do?”

She sighs. “No. Because you do too, and you just won’t admit it.”

I look pointedly around the diner and Paisley follows my gaze. A group of guys slump in the booths next to us, their hair a mix of tangled, curly mops hanging in their faces and man buns twisted into wads on the back of their heads. I turn toward another table, this one full of of preppy guys who look about fifteen years old. Everyone else in the room is female. “Uh, even if I take my blinders off, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s slim pickings out there. Maybe you’re seeing something different?”

She shrugs. “Not in here, goofball. This is a college hotspot. But the good guys are out there. My friend Mary—”

I groan. “If I have to hear about your boss Mary and her perfect fiancé one more time…”

Paisley throws her hands up in the air. “She’s amazing, okay, and she had given up too, just like you have.”

I lean toward her. “Do you really think it’s fair to say I gave up?”

Paisley sighs. “No, I’m sorry I said that. But Mary had given up, okay? And then BAM! Just like that, this guy shows up at a bar. She had borrowed a dress from me, so she dazzled a little more than usual. It was outside of her normal comfort zone, but thanks to that, he noticed. You have to be willing to try new things, and look in places you might otherwise ignore. If you do, well, it’s more likely you’ll spot him.”

“I’m happy for Mary, I really am,” I say. “I’d like to meet this Mr. Perfect one day, actually. Because he’s probably hiding a smoking habit, or he’s got a big old pot belly. In my experience, the good always exists right alongside the bad.”

Paisley beams at me. “I am so glad to hear you say you’d like to meet him. In fact.” She stands up and waves.

My stomach sinks, and I whisper-yell at her. “Who are you waving at?”

“Okay. Don’t get mad, okay? I know you never ever ever plan weddings. Believe me, I know. I told Mary like five times. But they are really not handling the planning very well on their own and I knew you needed the money right now, and they need someone super competent with just the right touch for people, and well, I might talk about you a lot. And I just sort of mentioned we came here on Saturdays.”

When I glare at her, she pokes my ribs and whispers. “I mentioned it by accident, I swear.“

Paisley’s a big-mouthed liar.

I barely have time to struggle to my feet before perfect Mary and her flawless, and definitely not potbellied, fiancé are standing in front of me. I force a smile onto my face and glance down at my Emory sweatshirt, yoga pants and Ugg boots. Hardly an appropriate outfit for meeting a potential client. Not that I’d ever plan a wedding, no matter what ambushes Paisley orchestrates.

Never mind how badly I need the extra money. It’s not like one wedding would be enough anyway.

Mary’s wearing dark jeans and a beautifully cut and delicately painted leather jacket. Her hair’s shiny and perfectly highlighted. Her boots rise in a sleek line to her knee and when she smiles, perfectly pink lips part to display sparkling white teeth.

“You must be Geode.” Her voice sounds surprisingly normal, coming from such a polished exterior.

“Please, call me Geo. My parents couldn’t have come up with a more obscure name, but you’ll get used to it. They chose it to remind me it’s what’s on the inside of people that counts and I should worry about what really matters.”

The tall man next to Mary is wearing a battered leather jacket, his jeans aren’t dressy and his plain blue t-shirt dresses it down further. They almost look like a mismatch. He holds out his hand. “Your parents sound pretty intelligent to me. I named my kids plain old Amy and Chase. Now I’m thinking I should’ve given their names a little more thought. My name is just as boring. I’m Luke. Nice to meet you, shiny on the inside Geode.” He has a faint accent. I’d guess Australian, but he’s been here a while and has tried hard to blend in.

“Wonderful to finally meet you both,” I say. “Paisley talks about you all the time.”

Mary grins at Paisley. “I’m sensing a theme. She’s been telling me about her dear old roommate from Emory for years now. I can’t believe I only just found out you’re an event planner.”

My grin nearly slips from my face, but before I can explain that I never do weddings, Paisley pulls me around next to her and gestures at the bench my bum was formerly warming. “Please, sit. Their pancakes are legendary.”

“Or at least, they’re reliably good,” I say. “I prefer the sweet potato ones, unless you’re sick of yam affiliated food now that we’re post holidays.”

“I always enjoy yams,” Mary says. “I’m glad to be getting some recommendations from you already. As I’m sure Paisley has mentioned, Luke and I are getting married.”

I scrunch my nose. “I hate to be the one to mention this, but I really never—”

Mary closes her eyes. “Don’t say it. Pais told us you almost never do weddings. I get that, I really do, but she also told me you’re amazing at dealing with people and planning for every contingency. And I’m going to level with you. I need that, badly. See, I’m running an office now, and it’s new for me.” She looks down and taps the table nervously. “If I’m honest, I’m barely hanging on with just that. I recently brought in a monstrously large client.” She glances sideways at Luke, who meets her grin with one of his own in a disgustingly couple-y way. “I’m also creating the framework for a brand new charity, and if that’s not enough, I’m also learning to parent. It’s kind of a hands on crash course.” She shakes her head.

“I know a dozen wedding planners,” I say. “I’d be happy to recommend several of the best to you.”

The waitress shows up then, handing me my pancakes, and passing a plate of eggs and chive and onion biscuits covered with cheese to Paisley. She takes Mary and Luke’s order and leaves again.

“Oh, those pancakes look amazing.” Mary glances surreptitiously at Paisley’s plate but clearly can’t think of anything to say about her bizarre pile of food. I know the feeling. “It’s obvious to me already that Paisley was right, but I understand that you never do weddings. I really do.”

She says she understands, but she looks like she means the opposite. Her eyes are full of eager, irritating hope.

Luke clears his throat. “I’ll pay you whatever you want if you can pull this wedding off by Easter in a way that keeps Mary happy and calm.” He places his hand over Mary’s and squeezes, and my heart contracts. I may not date, but I miss that, the knowledge that someone cares. I long for the days when I had someone else to look after me, and pick up the things I dropped.

A knot forms in my stomach. I cannot plan this wedding for this couple. I can’t meet with them and watch all this disgusting happiness every single day. It will kill me.

I glance at Luke’s work boots, calloused hands, and his tanned face and an idea occurs to me. I’ll price them out and then I don’t need to be the monster who won’t help them with their princess-flower-garden-unicorn wedding.

“What parameters are we talking about here? What events, size, and locations?” I ask.

“We’d want help planning the bachelor and bachelorette parties,” Mary says, “and we haven’t quite decided on the wedding location, but as a fallback, it could be in my brother-in-law’s back yard in Marietta.”

“That’s practically next door to you,” Paisley says, one eyebrow raised. “How convenient.”

I step on her sneaker under the table, but she doesn’t even squeak. I should’ve stomped harder.

“We’d love it if you could help her sister plan the bridal shower,” Luke says. “I’ll pay for all of it, I really don’t mind.”

I glance at Paisley. She’s going to get an earful later. “My friend Kevin is an amazing wedding planner. He is wonderful with people, and he pays attention to every detail.”

Mary nods. “Does that mean you won’t consider doing it yourself?”

“Honestly, I doubt you’d want to pay for me. I’ve been focusing exclusively on large corporate events for the past few years. I’m pretty expensive for a backyard wedding. Most people don’t realize how expensive a wedding can really be, and the idea of adding a full time employee on top of the ordinary expenses of food, invitations, photography, decor, drinks, venue, and favors, let alone the dress and cake, well, it adds up.”

Luke leans forward. “What would you charge?”

I tap my lip. “How many guests are you planning to invite?”

Mary grimaces. “That’s part of the issue. I’d love to keep it small, intimate. A hundred people or less.”

Luke shakes his head. “Most of my extended family has relocated to the States from Australia. I have work contacts I have to invite. I doubt we can get away with less than three hundred.” He grins at Mary and I sense an old argument. “Five hundred would be easier.”

“Wow,” I say, “with that many people, and a backyard venue, and a shower and two pre-parties…” I exhale slowly. What’s a ridiculous sum for something like this? What fee would scare them off? I think about exactly how much money I need. I cannot do a wedding. But if by some bizarre twist of fate, these people are hugely loaded, I can’t turn something like this away. Not if they’re willing to pay me what I need. “I completely understand this is probably far too much, but a hundred thousand would be my absolute minimum.”

I expect them to whistle. Maybe groan. Lean back on the bench. Look at one another awkwardly and ask for Kevin’s information. Kevin could do a wedding for three hundred guests for ten to fifteen grand for sure. Toss on another few grand for the smaller events, and a few vendor kickbacks, and that would be a tidy sum for something like this.

Mary’s eyebrows draw together and her lips compress. Luke kisses her forehead. “What if we pay you a hundred up front and twenty thousand on the back end, with a possibility of a thirty thousand dollar bonus if my Mary’s over the moon?”

I turn to Paisley. “Is he serious?”

She’s uncharacteristically quiet in her tiny corner of the booth. “I told you Mary’s my boss.”

“What do you do again?” I ask Mary. “I thought Paisley said you were an accountant.”

Mary frowns. “Luke gets carried away sometimes. That’s one of the reasons I need someone to help us. He overbids on things when he’s unfamiliar with them. I’m an accountant, yes, although technically, I’m the President of the Atlanta branch of a big accounting firm. Partners do pretty well. But not that well.”

Paisley smirks. “Luke’s loaded. He invented the light bulb.”

My eyebrows rise.

Luke chuckles. “Not the light bulb, no.”

“Right,” I say. “Duh. That was Edison, right?”

Luke glances at the ceiling. “Swan, Volta, a lot of others contributed, but Edison developed the filament that made the first light bulb cost efficient. I’m sort of the Edison for LEDs. I developed some LED affiliated technology that took another great stride forward in cost effective light sources.”

I swear under my breath.

“I felt the same way,” Mary says. “But the thing is, he has like a list of a thousand people his brother thinks we need to invite. And I want things as small as possible. I’d rather not spend our wedding day greeting a bunch of people I don’t know. So we need to narrow the list, and I need you to be the bad guy with Paul.”

“Also, we can’t seem to pick a location,” Luke says. “Mary likes the idea of my brother’s back yard, but the only way to narrow the list may be a location wedding. I’m voting for Vail, personally. The glistening snow, the mountain peaks.” He turns toward Mary and kisses her softly. My heart wrenches.

The only thing worse than planning this nightmare would be knowing I could have earned the money for Mom, but I was too afraid to do it.

“Not that we’d expect you to pay for your expenses in checking these places out,” Mary says. “We’d obviously fly you to the locations we’re considering to scout them out and look into logistics.”

When I realize my mouth is hanging open, I snap it shut.

“So?” Paisley asks. “They’ve met your terms. Are you going to do it? Because I’m working like twenty hours a week of overtime right now, and things are still not getting done. I’ll throw my plea as your best friend in there too. Please, please take over for me?”

A hundred and fifty thousand dollars. For one main event and three smaller ones. I’d be a moron to turn this down. A selfish, ungrateful jerk. I exhale heavily.

“What other locations are you considering?” I ask begrudgingly.

Paisley claps and hugs me. “Oh my gosh this is going to be so much fun!”

I hope she’s right, but somehow I doubt it.

I haven’t seen Luke in months, so I figured my old college pal would be happy to see me. I certainly waited in the lobby for him long enough to deserve an effusive greeting.

“Trig! You made it.” He smiles, but then his eyes lift upward, focusing above my face. He bobs his head toward the top of mine. “I know you’re a little more couth than I am, being a trust baby and all, but there’s this thing I’m going to tell you about that will revolutionize your life. It’s called a comb. You can pick one up at most any pharmacy or grocery store.”

He waves me into the conference room. He looks impeccable as always, in a hardworking electrician kind of way. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, he might look better than usual. He’s sporting a nice button down shirt instead of his typical t-shirt, and his shoes are shiny leather instead of scuffed work boots.

I try to run my fingers through my hair, but it’s too tangled for me to succeed. “Early morning skydive, but I still look better than you do, old man.”

I punch him on the arm, pulling back a little so it won’t bruise. Luke used to block against that stuff when we were sparring partners, but he doesn’t even flex this time. “You’re slowing down grandpa. You been slacking?”

Luke shakes his head. “Haven’t had time for Krav Maga in years. Just wait until you have munchkins of your own. You’ll get old and flabby, too.”

Luke may be a few years older than me, but he’s definitely not flabby. “I think I could pull off a gut.” I stick out my stomach.

“Even if you don’t get a pot belly, maybe once you have kids you’ll stop doing idiotic things so often.”

“I like trying new things,” I say. “And I don’t plan to stop. But I don’t think you can blame your kids for being boring. You’ve been like this for more than a decade.”

Luke frowns. “But you haven’t. You never hurled yourself from planes or base jumped in college. Come to think of it, you didn’t do it when we worked on our start up either. When did all this start? Are you having an early mid-life crisis? Should I be scheduling an intervention?”

“I like living life on the edge,” I say. “What do you care?”

“Duh, I’m worried about you,” Luke says. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s freezing outside. I have no idea why you’d want to go a mile up to begin with, much less fling yourself into the arctic air. You’re certifiable.”

“This feels cold to you, but Atlanta’s way warmer than Colorado right now.”

“Level with me. What’s the underlying compulsion?” Luke looks genuinely curious.

“As you already pointed out, I don’t have kids to worry about.”

“My kids don’t factor into this.” Luke sits down next to me. “Even before I had the rugrats, I never would have voluntarily jumped out of a plane.”

“Have you seen my jet?” I ask. “I doubt it’s been inspected since the Clinton administration. By the time we reach altitude, I feel safer with that parachute on my back than hanging on for dear life in that airborne clunker.”

Luke snorts. “When I saw him last, your dad was bragging about buying you a new Cessna for your birthday.”

My dad only gives absurdly lavish gifts. If it’s not something he can brag about, he won’t buy it. “He says he got them ‘buy two, get one free.’”

“He’s practically a bargain shopper,” Luke says.

“Right? But having a new jet ruins my joke. Actually, speaking of jokes, I heard a rumor I need to confirm. James told me something the other day. Something hilarious.”

“What’s that?” Luke asks. “I always appreciate a good laugh.”

“I heard you joined that new timeshare for jets. JumpJet or some dumb thing. Say it isn’t so.”

Luke nods slowly. “It’s worse than that. I’m living in a trailer, actually. It’s parked in an honest-to-goodness RV park.”

My jaw drops and I sink onto a boardroom chair. “Seriously?”

He drops into the chair next to me and leans on the table. “Times are tight, and as you know, if a few things go wrong, the money disappears. Quickly.”

“Geez, is that why you asked me to come out?” I lean toward him. “Because Nometry’s doing great. Let’s talk. I can get you and Paul back on your feet. I could even give you both jobs if you need them. You’d be great at scouting for promising electrical and mechanical startups. Or if you’d rather not work for me, tell me what you’re working on. Maybe there’s something we can finance to keep you afloat through this rough patch.”

Luke covers his mouth with one hand, and my heart goes out to him. How bad are things? His office looks fine, at least from the outside. A terrible thought occurs to me and I drop my voice. “Can you make payroll next month? Do you need a loan, like imminently?”

“What if I do?” Luke leans back in his chair. “Do you have enough liquidity to help me?”

“I just wrapped three projects.” I run some numbers in my head. I could push a deal forward and I’d be fine. “What do you need? Two million? More?”

Luke stares at me blankly.

“Five million? I don’t think I could go much higher than that in the next few days. How soon do you need it?”

Luke’s face splits into a grin. “You’re a better friend than I give you credit for Trig. Seriously, things are fine.”

I cough out a laugh. “You’re a punk, Luke. Always have been. I should’ve punched you harder.”

“Maybe you should’ve.” Luke pats the solid wood conference room table. “I do have some news though, and it’s the good kind.”

“Finally we get to the reason you wanted to meet.” I exhale. “Oh, tell me it’s a project. Is it a project? I’ve been wanting to work with you guys again for years. What have you got?”

“We do have something new, actually. If you can keep your big mouth shut, I’ll tell you about it.”

My eyes widen. “Yeah?”

“We’re fine-tuning now, but we’ve finally perfected a car battery that’s under five pounds. Four point three pounds to be precise. And it’s got thirty percent more power than a typical battery, with a year longer life.”

I swear under my breath. I cannot wait to get my hands on this. We’ve talked about it for years.

“But we aren’t looking for capital.” He tilts his head sideways sheepishly. “Paul would never agree to pay your cut again. Sorry.”

That’s just mean. He tells me about the idea of the year, and then yanks it away? I can’t quite prevent my scowl. “Why am I here then?”

Luke sucks on his teeth and it reminds me of how nervous he looked pitching me that very first deal, almost fifteen years ago. I had been out of college for less than a year, and I needed to do something big or I’d never get out from under my mom’s thumb. I was desperate enough to consider an idea from a tooth sucking electrician and his little brother. It helped that Luke had been my best friend and study partner for years, so I knew the electrician façade disguised a vast intellect.

Clearly the exterior and interior have remained the same. Which is one of the things I like best about Luke. Money didn’t change him at all.

“I’m engaged,” Luke says. “And I wanted to ask you to be my best man.”

That explains the upgrade to the shirt and shoes. This girl must be special, because Beth never managed to change a single thing.

“Engaged?” I whistle. “I did not see that one coming.”

Luke’s smile this time is tinged with sadness. I know he still misses Beth, which must mean he found someone truly amazing. He’d settle for nothing less. Beth was the coolest girl I’d ever met, and she was a perfect fit for Luke. And now he’s found someone? A twinge of jealousy shoots through me, but I stomp it down. He’s asking me to be his best man. What kind of best man is jealous? A lousy one, that’s who.

Besides. I don’t even want a wife. I’ve seen where that goes for Thornton men, and I’m not interested.

“I could never have predicted Mary.” Luke’s eyes light up. “Amy absolutely adores her. Mary won’t ever replace Beth, but she’s gluing our family back together. I didn’t even realize how many sharp places and cracks we were ignoring until Mary started fixing them without being asked. Amy took to her right away, maybe before I did, but Chase has been slower. A few days ago he started calling her ‘Mom’ too.” Luke inhales deeply and I wonder whether he was tearing up.

“Congratulations,” I say. “That’s the best news ever. Seriously I am so happy for you. But won’t Paul be upset if you make me your best man?”

Luke bobs his head. “He’s my brother and he knows he’s my top choice.”

“That hurts a little,” I say. “I’m not going to lie.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “With this battery launching, Paul has even less time than me. We’re pushing for an early May release, and Mary and I are shooting for a mid-April wedding.”

“What’s the rush?” I ask.

“She runs a tax office, for one, so they all get a week off after tax season, which makes it an ideal time to honeymoon.”

“She’s still working?”

“Uh, yes, Trig, it’s not 1953.”

“But it’s not like you need the money.”

“She loves her job.”

“She loves taxes?” I raise my eyebrows because it makes no sense.

Luke shrugs. “But also, we don’t want to wait. We can’t cohabitate.” Luke’s eyebrows lift. “Kids.”

A huge belly laugh escapes before I can stop it. “Got it.”

“Plus, life is short. You wait too long for something and you’re likely to miss out. If Beth taught me anything, it’s to be grateful for every single second I have. I’d love to call Mary my wife tomorrow. But she wants a ceremony with friends and family, and I can’t fault her for that. She deserves the big white dress, the flowers, the oohing and aahing from friends. She deserves all of it, and I’m going to make sure she gets it. But since Paul’s stuck handling the lion’s share of the details on our new launch, he has zero time to plan a bachelor party and whatnot.”

“So you’re using me . . . for my planning skills?”

Luke sighs. “For a guy, you can be a real diva. We’ve hired an amazing wedding planner, and she’s on tap to set up the entire Bachelor party. You can do as much or as little as you want, but if you have time to meet her for lunch today, you can point her in the right direction. I told her you’d be in town and she carved out some time. You can tell her what you have in mind and she’ll make it happen so you don’t need to feel used.”

“She’ll make it happen? You have a lot of confidence in this woman.”

“Mary adores her already and she’s only been working for us a week. Anyone who lightens Mary’s load and makes her smile gets rave reviews from me.” Luke stands up. “You want to come see the operation?”

“Uh, heck yes.” I follow Luke from the office complex to the R&D labs. Paul’s hunched over a table examining something under a microscope.

“Hey nerd,” I say. “I hear you’ve been busy.”

Paul turns around to face me, and I’m a little annoyed to see that he’s still as much of a pretty boy as ever. Age never seems to touch him much. He’s even sporting the trendy beard everyone has right now and somehow making it work. All through college, girls flocked to Paul, and I’m sure they still do. He was too focused on school to really appreciate how little he had to work. What I could have done with his face, though. I swear.

“Bernie, good to see you.”

I cringe when he calls me that. “You do not give up.”

Paul crosses the room to give me a side hug. “Your name’s Bernard, dude. You can thank your parents for that. If you’ve convinced everyone to call you Trig, well, I never bought into the rebranding.”

I slap his back. Hard. “I hear you’ve followed your brother’s lead to another huge success.”

Paul backs up a step and his nostrils flare like they always do. “We can’t all be innovators, you know. Some of us have to simply take the ideas from others and implement them well.”

“I’m kidding, Paul. Luke wouldn’t ever have made his lightbulbs work without you. Plenty of people have ideas. You make them reality.”

“Well, this battery probably won’t hit as big as your last venture. I mean, we can’t all make the newest sugar substitute that also blocks the reuptake of fat cells, but we’re happy with it.”

“I didn’t create anything. I just bankrolled it,” I say. “And Brekka found that one, not me.”

“You’ve always owed your success to her,” Luke says. “How’s she doing?”

“My sister never stops swinging,” I say. “She’s the strongest person I know, and probably the smartest.”

“Tell her I said hello,” Paul says. “I need to get out to Colorado soon. Maybe I can take her to dinner when I do, but it probably won’t be until June.”

“Launching in May, Luke tells me. I hope it goes smoothly for you.”

Paul shakes his head. “Never goes smoothly, but I’ve gotten pretty good at flattening out issues over the years. Mostly because I have a good legal team, strong contract negotiators, and a marketing budget that would make you cry.”

“Good call,” I say.

Luke glances at his watch. “I’ve got a few minutes to show you the prototypes, but if you want to meet our planner for lunch, you’ll need to leave pretty soon. She said noon, and she’s never late.”

“I think she can wait for me a few minutes if she has to,” I say. “She does work for you, and I assume you’re paying her top dollar.”

Luke nods his head slowly. “Sure, if you want to keep her waiting, that’s your call. But you are going, then?”

“I don’t plan to buy the cups and napkins for your party myself,” I say. “So yeah, I think a lunch to point her in the right direction sounds like a good idea.”

“Nothing crazy, okay?” Luke says.

“Could you clarify? Do you mean no strippers on poles? Or, like no trips to Paris? And does it make a difference if we use my jet? Because I am not taking your timeshare air bus anywhere. I might actually need to parachute out and that takes the fun out of it.”

Luke shakes his head. “I have kids, Trig. I didn’t think I’d need to tell you no strippers.”

“Ease up,” I say. “It’s like literally the bachelor party joke. But I do want some parameters as to what crazy means. No skydiving, I assume?”

Luke smiles. “Absolutely no skydiving.”

“How do you feel about cliff jumping?”

Luke groans. “No cliff jumping, or base jumping, no extreme skiing, and no paragliding.”

“Parasailing?” I ask, just to annoy him.

Paul clears his throat. “Don’t make me step in and take over as best man. Because I will totally do it if I have to.”

“I’m kidding, geez. I’ll come up with something decent that takes no more than two days and isn’t too terrifying for the little old grannies I’m friends with.”

“Have fun at your brunch.” Paul smirks.

“It’s a lunch,” I protest.

Luke and Paul exchange a smile I don’t understand before I follow Luke down to the applied science and testing unit on the ground floor. “What was that weird grin thing about?”

“What are you talking about?” Luke lifts one eyebrow like I’m crazy.

“Oh come on, I saw you and Paul share some kind of look. What’s going on?”

Luke narrows his eyes at me. “Let’s just say that Mary likes to play matchmaker. It’s become a kind of weird hobby for her since we got engaged.”

“How much matchmaking could she have done in the last twenty-six minutes?”

“I proposed at Christmas, thank you very much.”

“Of course you did,” I say. “Because you’re completely unswayed by the emotions of the season.” The elevator bings and we step out on the first floor, heading out of the office complex and over toward applied science.

“It wasn’t an emotional decision,” Luke says.

I choke back a laugh.

“It was, but I mean, I never regretted it. I didn’t do it because of Christmas.”

“Right, because everyone falls in love in a few weeks and proposes at Christmas.”

He scowls. “The point is, Mary has a sister and—”

“Wait, tell me this wedding planner isn’t Mary’s ugly little sister.”

Luke frowns. “Trudy’s not ugly, and no, Geo’s not Mary’s younger sister. And it’s Paul who Mary’s eyeing for her sister, not you. He’s been evading Mary’s multitudinous attempts at introducing them like a stray avoids the dogcatcher. It’s gotten almost ridiculous.”

“She’s that bad, huh?”

“Trudy’s very attractive, just like Mary. Paul’s just a little leery of trusting anyone right now.” We’ve reached the large warehouse building by the Lit Up Applied Science office park. Luke opens the door and gestures me inside. “Mary did note that Geo’s single and that if my best man was single, it might be nice if you met.”

I pull up short. I’m sick of being set up with women who can’t wait to meet the most eligible billionaire under forty. I liked it in college. Not so much now.

“Relax. This girl has some kind of rule. She doesn’t date at all, from what I’ve heard, so she’s definitely not going to be chasing you.”

“So she’s gay?”

“Something like that,” Luke says.

We spend so long looking at the functionality and ease of the new battery that it’s already noon when Luke walks me to my car.

“Where exactly am I going for this lunch?” I ask Luke.

“I’ll text you the address.”

“And how will I know who I’m meeting?” I ask. “What does she look like? ‘Cute’ isn’t very helpful.”

“Let’s just say she’s not your type, and she will be sitting alone, probably looking annoyed. If that doesn’t help, I’m sure the hostess can help you find her. Her name is Geo Polson.”

I eye Luke pointedly. “Should I be making up an excuse right now and doing this over the phone?”

Luke shakes his head. “Go, tell the kid what you want, and let her plan it for you. Mary means well, and Geo knows nothing about Mary’s hopes and dreams of all her friends getting married and being as happy as we are. It’s not a sticky rat trap, I promise.”

I click my key and slide into the seat of my black Aston Martin Vantage. I do enough business in Atlanta to keep a car here, thankfully. I cry a little inside when I have to drive a crappy rental car. They always smell like Cheetos. GPS routes me to midtown, some place called the Local Pizzaioli. Looks pretty decent. I wonder whether she picked it, or whether Luke did. It looks just like his kind of place.

I ease my car into a spot and give her a pat on the hood as I walk toward the entrance. Not my type, Luke said? What does that even mean? She’s old? She’s taller than me? Her teeth are wonky? When I open the door, a perky hostess with a pressed white shirt and black slacks greets me with a forced smile.

“Welcome to the Local Pizzaioli!” She pulls out a menu with a little too much enthusiasm and sends one flying toward my head.

I stumble backward, but I catch it without losing an eye. “Thanks. I’m supposed to be meeting—“

My eyes scan the room while I’m talking, but I don’t see anyone sitting alone. I assume this Geo person must have already left. Unsurprising, since I am more than half an hour late. Then I see a woman tapping her black booted foot in the back corner. As if she senses my gaze, her face turns toward me and suddenly, I can’t form any coherent words.

Her eyes are bluer than the ocean in Bora Bora, startling even from here. Her hair falls straight down from her face in a shimmering black sheet far past her shoulders. Her cheekbones slant down toward a sharp chin, and if this is Geo, Luke is a moron.

She’s exactly my type.

He could have told me she had a body that would make any Hollywood starlet jealous, or a face to launch a thousand ships. Instead he let me practically stand her up, probably laughing inside the whole time. I wipe my mouth to make sure I’m not drooling.

I shake my head. That must not be her. Luke’s got an odd sense of humor, but he’s not delusional. Plus there’s no way this girl doesn’t date. Maybe since this Geo has bailed, I could introduce myself to Miss America instead. Then at least it wasn’t a wasted trip.

“Excuse me sir, you sort of trailed off there. Who are you meeting?”

Right. I clear my throat and swallow. “Um, her name is Geo something.”

“Oh, yes, she’s waiting right this way.”

Right what way? Is it her? Please, please, let the breathtaking woman be Geo. The hostess takes three steps in the right direction and then pulls up short. She giggles like a five year old girl. “I should verify you’re the right person.”

“You need to verify who I am?” I lift one eyebrow. “Why?”

She giggles again and I suppress a scowl. “Let’s just say a few guys have claimed they were meeting her here that weren’t.”

Let’s say what? “Huh?”

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“Trig,” I say.

She smirks. “So I guess you’re one of those creepy guys.”

She was leading me to Geo, and then she stopped. I gave her my name, and now she thinks I’m a creeper?

Wait, maybe she’s saying this woman is so breathtaking that men are lying and saying they’re meeting her here. If it’s Geo though, she really is supposed to be meeting me.

Then it hits me. I could kick Luke for his stupid sense of humor. I never, ever use my real name for anything, as he well knows. I grit my teeth and force the words out. “My full name is Bernard Thornton the third.”

“Oh, it is you, wonderful. Right this way, then.”

And we’re walking toward her. The girl who’s probably every breathing man’s type.

I realize about halfway across the dining room that I have absolutely no idea what to say to her. Sorry I’m late? I’m not usually so inconsiderate? Isn’t that what an inconsiderate guy would say?

I wrack my brain for some smart way to apologize that would make me sound charming, but every single line I’ve ever used withers and dies. I glance toward Geo, now only a dozen steps away, and I can barely remember my own name, much less come up with anything witty. Is Luke blind? He could have prepared me that she could be a print model if her career as an event planner doesn’t pan out.

I’m five steps from the table, walking alongside the hostess, when a thirty-something man in a suit approaches the table before we can.

“Pardon me ma’am,” he says, his voice unsure. “Are you here alone?”

Geo looks up, and even though she’s not looking at me, the weight of her gaze makes me swallow again.

“Yes,” she says, her voice low and sultry. “Can I help you with something? I know the area pretty well. I grew up around the corner.”

The man gulps and I want to throat punch him. Buzz off idiot, I have an appointment. I’m stupidly late, but he doesn’t know that. “I was wondering whether you’d like to join me and my buddy.” He waves back at a table a few over from hers. “I travel a lot, so I know it sucks to eat alone.”

What a tremendously sloppy line. I almost feel bad for the guy.

“It’s terrible when people don’t respect other people’s time.” Her eyes dart my way. “But I’m meeting someone, and I think he’s finally here.”

“Oh.” The man blinks a few times. “Well, I could give you my phone number. If that doesn’t work out, I mean. I’m very punctual.”

I’m very punctual? Seriously? Just what every girl dreams of. A punctual boyfriend. I suppress the urge to laugh.

I clear my throat instead. “I’m finally here sweetheart.” I step around the hostess and tap the table. “So sorry to keep you waiting.” I turn toward the awkward guy and bob my head. “I’m Trig Thornton, but it looks like you’ve already met my girlfriend, Geo.”

“I guess you don’t want my phone number then?” he asks Geo.

“Scram, dude.” I can’t quite keep the irritation out of my tone.

He scurries back to his table, and at least he has the decency to look down self-consciously when he does.

“I imagine that happens to you a lot,” I say.

The hostess catches my eye and wisely hands me a menu and heads back to the front of the restaurant.

“What? People pretending to be my boyfriend?” She arches one pristine eyebrow.

Heat rushes into my face. “Uh, no. I meant guys hitting on you.”

When she simply stares at me reproachfully, I continue. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. Luke didn’t tell me about this lunch until it was almost time to be here.”

“That doesn’t sound much like Luke, but then I haven’t known him long. From what I hear, you’ve known him for quite some time, which is why you’re the best man.” She stands up to shake my hand. “Geo Polson.”

I sit down across from her. “Nice to meet you Geo. It really is past time we met, seeing as you’re my girlfriend and all.”

She frowns.

“What? Too early to joke?”

Finally a tiny smile. “I’ve found Luke to be pretty organized and punctual.”

“We tech nerds lose track sometimes when we’re focused on work things.”

She nods at me. “Well, I’m glad you finally made it. I’d love to get some of the details hammered out for the bachelor weekend right away. With the wedding looming in the next three months, we don’t have much time.”

“Do you have a list of the groomsmen?” I ask.

She reaches into a black portfolio and pulls out a sheet of paper. “You, of course, although I do admit I had your name listed as something other than Trig? Is that what you said?”

“My given name is Bernard, it’s true,” I say. “But in college, I was so good at math that I got a nickname after I got a perfect score on every math test in class. First time a student had ever done it. Everyone calls me Trig now, for trigonometry.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and she meets my gaze. When she does, I stare at her like a dope. I really, really wish I hadn’t been late.

“I can barely do sums on paper.” She grins ruefully. “But for the wedding party, I have you listed, Paul who I presume you know since he’s Luke’s brother, someone named James—“

“James Fullton.”

“Right. And someone named Bradley Millhouse.”

I don’t like Bradley Millhouse, but it’s complicated and I don’t want to get into it. “I don’t know him very well. He was a good friend of Luke’s first wife.”

Geo’s eyes widen and she makes a note on the paper. “Thanks. That kind of information is invaluable.”

“Need to make sure he doesn’t blow up the wedding?” I ask.

“Something like that.”

“Have you ever had anything truly crazy happen?” I ask. “I bet you have some great stories.”

She nods. “I’ve had my share of odd occurrences for sure. But fair disclosure, I don’t normally plan weddings. In fact, I usually avoid them at all costs.”

“Why is this an exception?”

She sighs. “My best friend Paisley begged me, and her boss, Mary, is a hard lady to turn down.”

I want to meet Mary now more than ever, after this description. “Well, with a deceased first wife and two kids, not to mention money thrown into the mix, and business contacts from each of them, I imagine you’ll have your hands full navigating it all.”

“The bride wants a guest list of one hundred, and the groom wants five hundred.” She flips her menu open and focuses on it. “This is kind of my area of expertise though. I’ll make sure this is a happy and respectful celebration of Luke and Mary’s love, as it should be. Any information you can share or tips you may have for managing the groom’s guests are greatly appreciated.”

I want to say something that makes her happy. Badly. I can tell she’s effective at her job. Not to mention, I imagine every guy she meets wants to tell her whatever she wants to know. “If I think of something I’ll share, but I think everyone will be happy for Luke. He’s had a rough couple of years. Beth died when Chase was born, in case you hadn’t heard.”

“Paisley mentioned that, and it’s a heartbreaking story for sure. I’m glad Luke gets a second happy ending though. And with enough preparation, we can foresee and prevent any negative outcomes for this wedding.”

I frown. “You don’t really think that. No matter how much you plan, you can’t anticipate everything.”

She shakes her head. “I disagree. All outcomes in life can be prepared for. If you take the care and effort necessary, you can avoid 99.9% of undesirable events, especially for big parties like a wedding. You can prepare contingencies for the rest.”

“Like a hurricane?”

“I always have a fall back venue in case of inclement weather or other emergency. Sometimes I even have a fall back date.”

My jaw drops. “Are you telling me that you sit around and think about every doom and gloom thing that might occur?”

She snaps her menu closed. “It’s my job, Trig. I imagine other people might find your number calculations boring. But I provide a service that helps people to enjoy their important days without dealing with any undesirable hiccups and with a minimum of interruptions. Can you say the same?”

She’s so gorgeous with her eyes sparking and her lips compressed that I want to yank her across the table and kiss her senseless, but since she’d slap me and walk out, I pull out my menu instead. “Having now thoroughly perused the options, what do you recommend, Miss Contingency Planner?”

The waiter walks up as though on cue, a smile plastered on his face.

“I always order from the core at every restaurant. Which means here, the pizza’s safe,” she says.

“I’ll have the fettuccine Bolognese,” I say, one eyebrow cocked. “I never play it safe.”