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“Thanks for coming,” he nodded at her over the cup of coffee. “I got you your usual.”
“Black with nothing?” She sat down opposite him.
“Yep. It’s such a complicated order. Very difficult to remember, you understand.” He took another sip then put his cup down, twisting the new ring around his finger. Her eyes dipped down to it for a second.
“I have to say, it’s kind of terrifying that you’re getting married now.”
“I’m nearly thirty, Morrigan. It can’t be that scary.”
“I mean… no but doesn’t it make you feel old?”
“I was born old.”
She rolled her eyes at him, “I know that.”
“Anyway,” he planted his hands on the table. “I actually brought you here to ask you something. To do with the wedding.”
“Oh?” She narrowed her eyes
“Will you be my best woman? For my wedding.”
Her eyes widened and he could see all her teeth. She nodded rapidly, “I would love that.”
“Great,” his mouth widened more than he had intended, giving himself away.
“What’s this looking like then?” she said. “Wedding of the century or small and personal?”
“Do you see how I haven’t invited Frank here?” he asked. “Take a guess.”
She laughed, “When are you telling him that he’s not planning it?”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t, but not initially. He’s probably got all the best contacts in Nevermoor for everything, and all the discounts.”
“This is true,” she sighed. “Apparently the prices of everything go up if you mention it's for a wedding.”
“How do you know that exactly?”
She clicked her tongue, “Cadence brought it up one time.”
“Is she reading a lot of bridal magazines?”
She took a sip of her coffee, and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I suppose so, well she keeps leaving them around the flat, I’m not sure if she’s necessarily reading them all the time.”
Jack raised a polite eyebrow at her, but lowered it after a few seconds when she didn’t seem to be getting the hint.
“Who else is in the wedding party?”
“On my side, I’m going to ask Jupiter to walk me down the aisle.”
“Adorable. He’s going to cry.”
He cleared his throat, “We haven’t really talked about the others yet, but that’s not so important. What we wanted to do was… an engagement party?”
“At the hotel?”
“Morrigan, my uncle owns the hotel. Of course it’s going to be at the hotel. I don’t need to pay for it. You’ll do the same when you and Cadence get around to it.”
She turned red, “Whatever, Jack. I admire the frugality though. Who’s invited?”
“The usual suspects. Can you get Francis on catering? I have this vision of something around the death of summer and the way that autumn starts biting on your tongue-”
“Calm down,” she said. “This isn’t the audition for a poetry recital. I’ll ask Francis. I think his fee is like… one hundred kred an hour or two thousand for the night, depending on what’s cheaper.”
“Damn,” Jack blinked a few times. “He knows his worth, I’ll give him that.”
“You still want him?”
“Obviously,” he scoffed. “You think I can’t afford that?”
“I’m just checking,” she pulled her notepad out of her pocket. “Anything else? Your stag night?”
“Don’t be gallus or clatty about it,” he thought about it for a minute. “Something classy. You know what that means, right?”
“You’re so kind to me. I’ll look into booking a child’s birthday clown for you, shall I?” she pretended to write it down.
He shuddered, “Don’t joke about that. That’s horrifying, Morrigan.”
“Are you scared of clowns?”
“No, how could I be with the way Uncle Jove dresses? But the facepaint is a little creepy, I’ll grant you that.”
She snorted, “So do I get a plus one?”
“Depends,” he said. “Is it Cadence?”
“Yes. If she wants to come,” she amended.
“Aww are you guys not at the going to family weddings together stage even though you’ve been going steady for over a decade?”
“Going steady, what are you, forty?”
“Not far off it, really. We’re closer to forty now than either of us are to like… ten.”
She paled, “Take that back. Only just, for me. Fine. Are you fifty?”
“No.”
“Then it’s called going out, you pensioner.”
“Fine,” he rolled his eyes, “Are you not at that stage yet even though you’ve been going out forever?”
“I’ll ask,” she said, before standing. “Do you want cake? I’m getting hungry with all this planning.”
“We don’t have to plan it all now,” he said. “Lemon and blueberry please. I thought we could just bask in it.”
“Are you perhaps a cat? Or a lizard?”
“I’m thinking about asking Tommy to be my best man now.”
She rushed off to get the cake, and came back with two champagne flutes too, “They’re non alcoholic,” she explained quickly. “So you can still drive on them. And so I wouldn’t get IDed.”
“You’re years over the age of majority.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged. “But just in case. I don’t want to, you know,” her eyes flickered towards the other people in the cafe. “Be recognised, you know?”
“Slàinte,” he said, clinking his flute against hers after she handed it to him, and took a sip. “I think this is just grape juice.”
“It’s grape juice you can drive on. And it’s fizzy. All celebration drinks are fizzy.”
“When I graduated, Kedgeree got me a whisky at the bar.”
“Stop ruining my bit, Jack.”
“It’s my purpose in life.”
She glanced upwards briefly, “I’m looking forward to this actually. It’s going to be fun.”
“I hope so,” he smiled, and she could see the way it reached his eyes. “To… what’s our toast to?”
“We literally just toasted to health.”
He held up a finger, “I want a second, more personalised version of the toast. Take it as your practice for the speech.”
“I have to give a speech?”
“It’s easily the most famous part of the job.”
She held out her flute again, “To planning a wedding.”
He clinked it and they drank, “Needs work. Maybe we should hire a speechwriter for you.”
“Jack!”