The Best Laid Plans. Amy Vastine
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“Honestly, I didn’t even know he was going to ask Charlie to be his best man.” Kendall sat down next to her. “I don’t think he’s spying on you.”
“Why else would he ask Charlie to meet with me to go over the plans?”
Kendall shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do it all by yourself. Maybe he wants you to have a guy’s perspective when you start making plans. He never mentioned any of this to me, so I have no idea.”
Whatever Max’s reasoning was, it meant nothing but trouble for Emma. What did Charlie know about planning a wedding? What “ideas” was he looking forward to sharing?
Kendall and Max wanted to have a short engagement, which was why they’d been thinking about simply eloping at city hall. Emma had promised to come up with a church wedding that would stay small. She had no intentions of making this into some sort of monster wedding. Was that what Max thought?
“I’ll run some of my ideas by Charlie tomorrow to make Max feel better, but after that, I don’t need the interference. Not if you want to get married over the Fourth of July.”
“I don’t think Charlie is going to give you a hard time. Be nice to him.”
“I’ll be nice.”
“But not too nice. I think Charlie likes you a little. I’d hate for him to think you’re one of those nurses who dates paramedics.”
“Actually, you’d be amazed by how many nurses date cops. I don’t know what it is, but the ladies in my ER love the Chicago PD.”
“But not you, huh?” Kendall knew all about Emma’s life plan. Unlike Lucy, she didn’t usually treat Emma as if she was nuts for thinking she could map out her whole life. Kendall was the sister Emma could tell anything to and not feel she would be judged.
“Nope, not me.” Emma rested her chin on her folded hands and stared off dreamily. “I have my heart set on the handsome new doctor starting next week.”
“Oh, do tell.” Her sister leaned closer.
It was too early to gossip. Emma hadn’t even formally met him yet. Still, she knew he was the one. He fit perfectly in her plans.
“He’s the one I’ve been waiting for, I can just tell.”
“Yeah? He’s the one?”
Emma always got what she wanted, and sticking to her plan was the only way to prevent disaster. The last time she even thought about deterring from the plan, bad things had happened. “He’s got to be.”
The phone rang and Kendall jumped up to answer it. Emma could tell by the smile on Kendall’s face that it was Max calling.
“I know, isn’t it the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen? I told him we could frame it.” She paused to listen. “Emma’s here, by the way. She wants to know why you asked Charlie to help her with the wedding plans.”
All of a sudden, Kendall’s eyes widened and she turned her back, piquing Emma’s interest. Emma strode over and tried to overhear, but Kendall pushed her away.
“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. We should talk about this. I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Kendall said to Max.
“What did you know? What’s not a good idea?” Emma asked, trying again to hear what he was saying. Kendall ran out of the room. Emma followed. “What is he saying?”
Kendall swatted at her sister as she attempted to take the phone away. “She’s trying to get the phone,” she explained to Max. “Cut it out, Emma. I will pinch you if you don’t stop it.” Just like when they were children and only had one cordless phone in a house full of adolescent girls, Emma was undeterred by her sister’s warning and wrestled it away.
“What’s not a good idea?” Emma asked Max. “Why did you tell Charlie to meet with me?”
“Hi, Em. How are you tonight?”
“Don’t ‘Hi, Em’ me. What is not a good idea?”
“I was telling Kendall I really have to get back to work. Charlie just wants to help out. He’s my friend. Be nice.”
“Be nice? I’m always nice. That doesn’t answer my question. What is not a good idea?”
“Gotta go. Tell Kendall I’ll call when I get home.”
“Don’t you—” Max hung up “—hang up on me,” Emma said to no one. She turned on her sister. “What was that about?”
Kendall swallowed hard, a sure sign she was about to lie. “Nothing. He’s worried this wedding is going to take on a life of its own.”
“And Charlie is supposed to do what? Keep me from letting things get out of control?”
“No,” Kendall insisted. “We appreciate everything you’re doing. We’re both swamped and there’s no way we could plan a wedding without help.”
“But?”
“But nothing. I know you. You are going to give me the best wedding a girl could ask for. But even without planning it, this is overwhelming. Bear with us, okay?”
There was still something her sister wasn’t saying. Maybe Kendall believed in her, but Max was another story. Emma was going to show both of them. She was going to help them have the wedding of their dreams, with very little stress to show for it. Even if she had to share credit with Charlie Fletcher.
* * *
AFTER GOING BACK and forth about where to meet, Charlie and Emma settled on the Chi-Town Chilly Cow Ice-Cream Shop or, as Emma and her sisters called it, the Triple C. It was an Everhart family favorite.
“I’ll take a double scoop of the blackberry with some fresh strawberries and a small squirt of whipped cream.”
“You are definitely a woman who knows what she likes, Nightingale,” Charlie said as he continued to study the menu board.
“I’ve been here a few times,” she explained with a smile.
The young man behind the counter made Emma’s sundae and went to ring her up. She stopped him before he entered anything into the register.
“Oh, I’m Lucy Everhart. There’s a note back there that says I get all my ice cream free.”
Lucy had helped the original owners by pushing them to go organic and making the Triple C extremely profitable in the Lincoln Park area. As a thank-you, the owners told Lucy she would get free ice cream for life. Only, Lucy didn’t eat ice cream, organic or not. She didn’t do dairy. Emma didn’t see why someone shouldn’t benefit from Lucy’s good fortune.
Charlie looked amused but didn’t give her up. Instead, he tried to get in on the action. “Does that free deal cover the ice cream for friends of Lucy Everhart, as well?”
Emma licked some whipped cream off her spoon. “Sorry, Charlie. The discount is for me and me alone.”
“Aren’t you a Lucky Lucy?”
“Oh, I am,” she said, diving into her sundae.
After he paid for his treat, the two of them settled in a booth in the back of the shop. Emma had brought along a notebook to jot down whatever ideas Charlie was here to share. She already had a binder full of all her own ideas separated into categories—ceremony, reception, bride, bridesmaids, groom, groomsmen.
She started with her thoughts on day and time. Charlie thought having the wedding on a Friday was brilliant. She flipped the