Elijah
“So we agree on the champagne and gold color scheme for the tables?” the wedding planner asked, making a note in her planner. She was meticulous, writing down every detail as if her life depended on it. I liked that about her.
I nodded, glancing at the sample table setting she’d laid out. The gold fabric gleamed under the soft lighting of her office, reflecting the champagne-colored napkins folded into perfect swans.
“Agnes will love it,” I said. “It matches the dress she’s making.”
The planner smiled, clearly pleased. “And the flowers? White roses with gold-dipped tips, baby’s breath, and eucalyptus?”
“Perfect.”
“Excellent.” She tapped her pen against her notepad. “And the timeline—you’re still certain about the date? It’s coming up rather quickly.”
I l
