"That's it!"
"I'm pretty sure that's in Nepal."
Tiffi wrinkled her nose. "Is that a beach?"
"No." Thank goodness destination weddings were off the list, considering Tiffi didn't know basic geography. Greer was going to get her a map for her wedding present. "We can decide on the honeymoon later. Let's talk about guests. How big of a wedding do you want to have?"
"Not very big," Kiki said, glancing over at her sisters. "Right?"
"No more than a thousand guests," Tiffi said solemnly.
"Each?" Bunni asked.
"Yeah, each."
Three thousand guests? Here? Her father's mansion had expansive grounds, but even that was ridiculous. "Do you guys even know three thousand people?"
"Sure," Tiffi said, and began to count off on her fingers. "There's my nail lady, my makeup lady, my eyebrow lady, my bikini wax lady, my tanning salon lady, my personal trainer, my-"
Greer held a hand up before Tiffi could count off three thousand people. "This is your wedding. This should be an affair that you want your closest friends and family at. Bear in mind that there's three of you, plus my father's friends and family, and so you're going to want to keep things tight, guest-wise."
All three nodded.
"Maybe not my eyebrow lady," Tiffi conceded. "But the others for sure."
"Don't forget my eyebrow lady!" Bunni chimed in.
This was going to be a very, very long month. Greer continued to smile, though her face was starting to feel the strain. "Let's sit back and think logically about how many people we can possibly fit at a party here at the castle?"
"Three thousand?" Tiffi questioned.
Greer's smile grew tighter. A very, very long month. "The party from a few days ago was six hundred, and that was a tight squeeze."
"How about twenty-six hundred?" Bunni asked. "That's a good compromise."
"Where are the extra two thousand going to park their cars?" Greer asked ever so politely. She'd heard unreasonable demands before. A lot of the time it required keeping her cool and talking the bride-to-be back to her senses. Questions like bathroom facilities and parking usually did that.
"Who cares?" Tiffi waved a hand. "Not my problem."
"What if they all took limos to come to our wedding?" Bunni suggested.
"That's going to get very expensive." Greer was trying not to shoot down every idea, she really was. But . . . these were terrible.
"Stijn said we could spend whatever we wanted," she replied with a pout.
"I do think that's off the list," Greer told her. "I know he said we could spend whatever we wanted, but I'm the one that has to turn in receipts." She noticed Kiki was being very quiet. "What do you think, Kiki?"
"Why don't we make lists of who we want to invite and compare them?"
Greer could have leapt across the table and kissed her. "That sounds wonderful."
Kiki beamed, and Greer found herself hoping her father married Kiki out of the trio. She seemed like the somewhat practical one. "I'll get some paper," Kiki said. "I have these cute feather pens and some scented stationery."
"I want purple stationery!" Tiffi called as Kiki trotted away in her high heels.
As Kiki disappeared out the dining hall door, one of the elderly butlers appeared. "Miss Greer? There's a guest waiting for you in the foyer."
"Is it the best man?"
"I cannot say, miss." He wouldn't meet her gaze.
Weird. Greer got up, smoothing her hands down her dress. It was a simple, navy blue dress that she'd worn over and over again, but it was starting to fit tight in the waist and bust, and she had to constantly adjust it. "I'll come greet him, then. Tiffi, Bunni, you guys make your lists with Kiki until I come back, all right?"
They nodded in unison, excited looks on their faces, and again, Greer felt a twinge of guilt that she was getting irritated with them. One of the trio was going to be her stepmother soon. . . . wasn't that strange? She needed to get along with them, though. And she really didn't hate them. She just wasn't excited about planning their carnival of a wedding, especially if they had such unrealistic expectations already.
Three thousand guests. She shuddered delicately as she strode into the main hall of the castle. The logistics of that were a nightmare, especially given the bride-roulette and the media storm that was already on her doorstep. All she needed was for the best man to be just as useless as those three and then-
She stopped in her tracks as she entered the foyer.
The person waiting there was Asher.
How? Why?
***
The look on Greer's delicate, pointed face when she saw him was utter shock-followed by mutiny.
Yeah, this was going to go over like a lead balloon. He didn't care. He could be the bad guy as long as he got results. Asher knew going into this that she wasn't going to be happy to see him, less so once she figured out they'd be working in close proximity for the next month.
But Asher was successful in his line of work because he knew that nothing mattered except results. She could hate him for a week, maybe two, but he'd convince her that they were still friends.
As she strode toward him and her steps grew more angry, her expression more pinched, he amended that two weeks to possibly three. She looked pissed.
"What are you doing here?" She scanned the foyer, then pointed at the front door. "Get out. You aren't welcome in this house."
"Really?" He forced himself to put on a casual air. "Your father told me I was going to be working with you in lieu of him."
Her eyes grew wide. "You're the best man?" She practically spit the words at him. "You're kidding. How is that even possible? You barely know him!"
Asher put a hand over his heart. "I'm truly touched at being asked, too."
"This is a joke," Greer muttered. She spun around on one foot and marched away. "It has to be a joke."
He followed behind her, amused. She was like a small, angry kitten. It was adorable, really. Greer liked control-one reason she was so passionate about the weddings she coordinated-and he'd taken it from her. In her flat shoes, she seemed smaller than ever, but her figure was smoking hot in that plain dress, and he couldn't help but stare at her tight, perky ass as she stormed away. Not for the first time, he mentally railed against the alcohol that had made him too drunk to appreciate fucking her. He'd just have to not drink the next time he touched her.
Because seeing her here? Seeing her spitting fire at him and her body rounded with his baby? It cemented in his mind that there'd absolutely be a next time. It might have taken him a while to realize it, but Greer Chadha-Janssen was his. It didn't matter that she hated him now; he'd convince her to come back to him, and when he got her in his arms again, it'd be all the sweeter.
He followed her as she flung a door open and then made a noise of distress. Asher peeked in after her, seeing Janssen's office. "Looking for someone?"
"I forgot my father's gone for the day." She cast him a baleful look. "It's imperative that I talk to him and tell him that you absolutely, positively cannot be in the wedding."
He caught her by her elbow. "Is it because I'm the father of your baby? He knows that."
She whirled around and gasped. "You told him?"
Asher shrugged. "Why would I hide it? I'm not embarrassed. The only thing I'm embarrassed about is how I treated you that night. And I want to apologize. I made a mistake." He put on his best woeful expression that had never failed to melt Donna's heart.
"You made a mistake," she echoed flatly. Instead of melting, Greer just looked angrier. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She was utterly gorgeous in her rage, so much so that he couldn't stop staring at her. Her dark eyes sparkled with fire, and her fascinating face with its arching cheekbones seemed positively lit up with anger. Her thick, dark hair cascaded around her shoulders and her entire body seemed to crackle with intense fury. He'd never seen her like this. "Just one mistake, Asher? You made several."
He did? That took him by surprise. "I know I was a bit of a fuckup that night-"
"Huge fuckup," she bit out.
Okay, huge fuckup. "I wasn't myself. I was drunk, and I wasn't myself. I wouldn't have taken advantage of a friend, not like that."
Her glittering eyes narrowed. "You don't even remember what you did, do you?"
Asher rubbed his mouth. "I know we made love-"
"No." She cut him off before he could continue. "Making love involves two people having mutual pleasure and sharing feelings. What we did was not making love. It was you lying on top of me and shoving your . . . your . . . whiskey dick inside me!" She hissed the words and jabbed at him with an angry finger. "No condom! No nothing! Just two pumps and you were at the finish line."