Wedding Planner's Golden Rule: Don't fall in love with the groom.
Handsome, charming, billionaire playboy, Aiden Carlisle's wedding to beautiful, but demanding Caroline Baxter is set to be the event of the century.
Sweet, smart and talented, Rosalie...
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I brandished the file that Elliot had handed to me, wielding it like a sword as I barged into my house, holding Rosalie's hand with the other.
I felt invincible.
I felt powerful.
I felt like nothing in the world could bring me down.
And nothing would.
I held power in my hands.
I held the power of information.
Rosalie looked timid.
She wasn't sure of this whole plan. She was worried.
I knew, though, that I wouldn't let anything harm her.
She gazed around the foyer, trying to take in the beauty of architecture like she usually did, but her worry wasn't letting her enjoy it. She was biting her bottom lip.
I didn't even get a moment to enjoy it.
"Aiden?" my mother's voice came before I saw her, "Are you still banging doors? You're thirty, Aiden."
When she appeared, her eyes were on Rosalie.
I smirked at her. "You'll let it slide," I told her.
She huffed. "I let you get away with far too much," she said and rolled her eyes. She then nodded to Rosalie. "Who's this, Aiden?"
Rosalie smiled at my Mom, who immediately smiled back. Rosalie had that understated charm which made everyone like her.
I took her hand and pulled her towards my Mom. "Mom, this is my girlfriend, Rosalie Darling."
My mother's eyebrows raised at me. I could see her making connections and calculations in my head. I could also see her thinking of the things that Gammy must have told her about me and my happiness.
She smiled at Rosalie. "It's so lovely to meet you, Rosalie," my mother said, always ready to accept people, without judgement, "What brings you both here at this hour?"
I shook the file in my hand at her. "I need to speak to Dad."
"Your father is in his study."
"Great," I breathed, pulling Rosalie in the direction of the study.
"Why don't you leave Rosalie with me?" my Mom asked, "I'll give her some lemonade. Would you like some lemonade, Rosalie?"
Rosalie, who was yet to speak, smiled. "I'd love some lemonade, Mrs. Carlisle," she said.
My mother waved her hand. "Call me Anne, please. Come on, darling." My mother stopped. "Oh, that's your name, isn't it?" She laughed, "What a sweet thing."
She took Rosalie's hand from me and walked away, the two most important women in my life were already laughing over something.
