When Honey Got Married Read Free

attention back to the nice view he had of her cleavage. “This may not be the first wedding at Belles Fleurs, but this is the only wedding that matters for Honey and Brent.” The no-nonsense crispness of her voice snapped his attention right back to her face. “This is also my first event at this venue, so I have nothing other than your assurances that you and your staff are on top of this. And I’m very sorry, but your assurances are not enough. Honey has had enough of an upset this week with the change in coordinators, and I do not want her worrying about details falling through the cracks. I realize that this meeting might be an inconvenience to you, but my job is to make Honey’s day perfect, and for that to happen, I have to make sure that you and your staff do your jobs.”
    There was an insult implied in that statement, but it was nonetheless true, and she stared him straight in the eye as she waited for his response. He couldn’t exactly argue with her without sounding like a complete jackass. And while he’d known the Moreau and Delacroix families his entire life, that would not stop Judge Moreau from coming down on him like the Wrath of God if anything went wrong. “Extra starch in the napkins. Check. Next?”
    At least Grace was gracious about it, moving on immediately. Once she was satisfied with the layout of the ballroom—and he had a small moment of satisfaction when she conceded he was right about the floor plan—she moved on through the house, making notes the entire time. The tour finally ended in the kitchen, and he watched as she cast a critical eye over the gleaming stainless steel surfaces. That was a step over the line. “I assure you, my kitchen meets the highest standards of cleanliness and quality.”
    “Oh, your reputation precedes you there. I have no doubts.”
    “Then would you like to go over the menu?”
    “No. I’m aware that you, Honey, and Brent designed this menu specifically to highlight their favorites and your signature dishes, so I’m not going to question the choices. And again, your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard that your crawfish bisque is divine.” Seemingly on cue, her stomach growled and a pink tint crept to her cheeks.
    “Maybe I should get you some.” She started to protest, but he was already moving toward the fridge. “We happen to have some left over from an event last night. It’s easily reheated, and very nice with a glass of white wine. Have a seat—”
    Grace moved so quickly, one would think he’d offered her poison on roadkill. “That’s quite all right. I think we’re done here. Thank you for your time.” The words were coming out in a rush, that earlier cool professionalism gone. “Here’s my card, call me if there are any problems, otherwise I guess I’ll see you tomorrow for the rehearsal. I’ll show myself out.” A second later, she was gone, and he was still standing there with a hand on the fridge door, wondering what the hell had just happened.
    This was just too weird. He put the bisque on to heat anyway and poured himself a glass of wine, replaying the events of the last hour in his mind. Grace Henson definitely didn’t like him. He didn’t know why, but that much was obvious. She was acting a bit like a one-night stand he’d forgotten to call the next day.
    But she certainly knew a lot—about Honey, Bellefleur, and the plantation. In retrospect, he could see that she definitely had a familiarity with the bigger picture that Honey’s original planner had not shown at their first meeting. That didn’t fit with the way she was acting, though.
    It was certainly a puzzle, and he seemed to be missing a piece or two. Thankfully, he knew exactly who to call to get those missing pieces in place.
    He stirred the bisque with one hand and scrolled through his contact list with the other until he found the number he was looking for.

Chapter Two
    Grace tried very hard not to think about anything other than wedding details on