Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
She laughs. “Grant, no. You have your game tomorrow, and I agree that it’s not a good idea. Josh and the guys need you. We’ll just have to wait and see each other at the restaurant tomorrow. I’m trying to get someone to cover my shift at the hospital, but if I can’t get off, I might be a little late.”
“Tate…” I sound anguished.
“Grant.”
“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”
“Swear it,” she demands.
I smile. “I swear.”
TWENTY
GRANT
“Sir, another brown butter radish crostini?”
I accept the waiter’s offered hors d'oeuvres and thank him. He passes me a napkin then moves on to another guest. I have no doubt he’ll be back by soon. I’m an easy target for him, especially if he’s trying to meet some kind of appetizer quota. This is my third crostini, and I can’t be stopped. I’ve never been a big radish guy. My single dad wasn’t regularly garnishing my dinner plate with vegetables unless they could be easily tipped out of a can and nuked for thirty seconds in the microwave. These crostini are so damn good though. The brown butter glaze, the lemon, and the thyme all come together so nicely on the thinly sliced baguette.
The appetizers are only the beginning. Everything in the banquet room has been executed perfectly in accordance with Josh’s plan, down to that potted plant in the corner I remember seeing on his blueprint. He’s gone all out, spared no expense, and left nothing up to chance.
All of Josh and Sophia’s family has arrived in the city, and not just the relatives Sophia knows about, the ones who went to our game this afternoon. Josh has secretly flown in all their aunts, uncles, and cousins too. We’ve got “Memaw” from Arizona, “Pappy” from Mississippi, Sue and Bob from Florida—the list goes on. The room is packed with people.
Josh was smart to hire professionals to handle the decorating. There’s a balloon arch in front of a photo backdrop and a big sign that reads CONGRATULATIONS hanging up over the buffet table. Overflowing floral centerpieces perch on every available surface. There are custom napkins and cups printed with a logo Josh had designed that interlock the letter S and J like the two of them are about to launch not just a life, but also a small business together. I’m starting to understand why Josh was so nervous. This is nicer than most weddings I’ve been to. Scratch that, all the weddings I’ve been to.
Nick comes over with a plate overloaded with little chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.
“Pretty sure those are for the kids,” I tell him.
He shrugs and dips one in ketchup. “Why should they get to have all the fun?”
I nod toward the double doors that separate the banquet room from the front of the restaurant. “What’s happening out there?”
“Nothing. I don’t even think they’re here yet.”
We can’t see into the restaurant because Josh’s party planners made sure to cover the glass windowpanes with drapes. Every so often, someone (i.e. Nick) breaks protocol and peeks out to get the scoop on the proposal.
Daphne is the one leading the show back here. Josh didn’t trust any of us with the job, which seems fair. Dustin hasn’t been at his assigned post near the doors all night. He’s too busy annoying Daphne as she circles the room, taking head counts, making sure everyone knows their part. “Now remember, when I give the cue, we’re going to sweep the doors open and surprise them. No one go out into the main restaurant before then or the surprise will be ruined and Josh will quite literally kill me. There are bathrooms down that hall over there, and if you have any questions or need a drink or a napkin or another plate of food, talk to this guy.”
She’s referring to Dustin, who’s forced to smile and wave at everybody.
The restaurant’s manager comes rushing into the room. “They’re here!”
“Oh shit! It’s happening!” Nick says, starting to scarf down his food faster.
Everyone starts chatting excitedly, worrying over where they should stand, what they should do with their arms. “Are we saying surprise and like jumping out at them or what?”
Fortunately, the restaurant is big and can handle the uptick in noise. Besides, it doesn’t really matter if Sophia suspects there’s a party going on back here. There probably always is.
The side door to the banquet room swings open and a waiter escorts Tate inside. She’s late, but we knew she would be. She couldn’t find anyone to take her shift so she had to dash here straight from work. God I’m happy to see her. More than that—ecstatic.
She’s still wearing her scrubs, which I happen to like. They’re fitted and cute. I’m already headed in her direction and I will her to look over at me, but Daphne’s on her first, scooping her up and taking her straight to her parents. They’re excited to see Tate, which makes sense. I’m sure they’ve met her before. After that, Daphne keeps ahold of Tate and leads her around the room to introduce her to various aunts and uncles. It’s nice and all, but some of us have been waiting all day to see Tate. Do I need to get in line or something?