“So you said Amelia is the caterer. What do you do, Gretchen?”
Gretchen got an odd look on her face as though she wasn’t quite sure how to describe what she did for a living. It wasn’t a very hard question, was it?
“Gretchen is our visual stylist,” Amelia said, jumping in to fill the silence.
“I have no idea what that is,” Julian admitted.
“Well, that’s why I hesitated,” Gretchen said. “I do a lot of different things. I design all the paper products, like the invitations and programs. I do all the calligraphy.”
“So you designed Murray’s invitations?”
A wide smile crossed Gretchen’s face for the first time. “I did. I was really excited about that design. I love it when I can incorporate something personal about the couple, and musical notes seemed like the perfect touch.”
“They were just what we were looking for,” Murray said.
“They were nice. I wouldn’t have remembered them otherwise.”
“Thank you. I also do a lot of the decorating and work with the various vendors to get the flowers and other touches set up for the wedding and the reception. I’m a jack-of-all-trades, really. On the day of the wedding, I might be doing emergency stitching on a bridesmaid’s dress, tracking down a wayward groomsman, helping Amelia in the kitchen...”
“Or pinch-hitting as the best man’s date?” Julian said with a chuckle.
“Apparently.” She sighed. “I was the only one that could do it.”
“You mean, you ladies weren’t clamoring over who got to spend time with me? I don’t know if I should be insulted or not.”
Gretchen shrugged and looked at him with a crooked smile that made him think maybe he should be insulted. “It’s got to be better than stitching up a torn bridesmaid’s dress, right? It’s not so bad to be around me. At least I don’t think it is. I’m fun, aren’t I, Murray?”
“Absolutely. You’re going to have a great time with Julian. Just don’t get him talking about his movies. He’ll be insufferable.”
“What’s wrong with my movies?” Julian asked with mock injury in his voice. He didn’t really need to ask. He knew better than anyone that all the films he’d done in the past few years were crap.
He’d started out at an acclaimed theater program at the University of Kentucky. He’d gotten a full scholarship out of high school, praised for his senior performance as the lead in The Music Man. He’d intended to go on to graduate and do more stage work. Maybe not musicals—he wasn’t the best singer—but he enjoyed the acting craft. Then his life fell apart and he had to drop out of school. Desperation drove him to commercial acting, and with a stroke of luck, he ended up where he was now. It wasn’t the creative, fulfilling career he’d dreamed of when he was younger, but his paycheck had more zeroes than he’d ever imagined he’d see in his lifetime.
Everyone laughed and they spent a while critiquing the plot of Bombs of Fury as their food arrived. The conversation continued on various subjects throughout the evening, flowing easily with the group. Gretchen had been quiet at first, but after talking about her work and mocking his, she started to warm up. Julian actually had a good time, which was rare, considering he was having to eat salmon and steamed broccoli while the rest of them were enjoying tastier foods. It should be against the law to be in the South and not be able to eat anything fried.
When it was over, they headed out to their cars as a group. He walked Gretchen to the passenger door of Amelia’s SUV and leaned in close to her. “I had fun tonight.”
“Yeah,” she said, nervously eyeing him as he got close to her. “It was a pleasant surprise to run into you.”
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” Tomorrow was the welcome party and their first official time out as a couple.
“Okay. Good night.”
“Good night.” On reflex, Julian leaned in to give her a kiss good-night. He was stopped short by Gretchen’s hand pressed against his chest.
“You know, no one is watching us. You don’t have to pretend to want to kiss me.”
Julian smiled. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my years in LA, it’s that someone is always watching. But even then, I would still kiss you.”
“Why?” Her dark eyes searched his face in confusion, her brows drawn together.
She honestly didn’t think she was kissable. That was a shame. She was very kissable, with pouty lips glistening from just a touch of sparkly lip gloss. If he were interested in that sort of thing. Tonight, however, he was more focused on their cover and getting it right.