Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(62)

24


Finding Order


There’s a certain rhythm in orchestrated chaos.

Technicians rushed back and forth, carrying wires and electrical tape. Rows of chairs were directed on wheeled carts. Two dozen helium-filled black-and-green balloons bumped together as they floated by on strings connected to their handler before veering off left. Another two dozen silver-and-blue went off right.

The second photo booth that had been so much trouble to hunt down finally arrived. Two men struggled with an industrial dolly as they negotiated it down the hallway. The man facing my direction lifted his brows, and I pointed to the room on the right, checking another item off the list on my tablet.

Ankles crossed, ass planted against the wall in the hallway across from the entrances of the two event rooms, I’d claimed the perfect vantage point to direct traffic while remaining out of the way. In the room on the left, Kristen and Suzanne directed the room arrangement according to our agreement. Kendall and Kiki manned the room on the right.

And thank f*ck, Madison was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d heeded my warning after all—or the attorney’s. Regardless of the reason, things going smoothly today were in both of our best interests.

Darren had been busy all morning setting up sound boards and equipment in each room. We’d created soundtracks, but the boys insisted on live DJs, their mom waved a big fat check, and we smiled, nodded, and complied like smart little business owners.

Thanks to meticulous planning, unending emails, and double-checking confirmations, each component involved in running, servicing, or supplying the event had a role, knew their timing and task, and completed it with little additional direction. I served as the failsafe, monitoring the progress of both rooms to make sure nothing fell through the cracks.

I turned my head as movement rounded the corner, and a very important component began rolling my way. Forgetting all about lists and party coordination, I pushed off the wall to greet Hannah and her crew.

She directed Daniel and Chloe in steering a large cart that held one of the cakes. A smile lit up her face the instant we made eye contact, and my heart lurched into the backside of my ribs.

Every time she walked into a room, she struck me. Dark hair, bright eyes, killer smile the moment her gaze met mine. I’d cause that smile. And she had the same effect on me.

“Well, what do you think?” She gestured to the cake they were wheeling in.

Daniel glanced over his shoulder as he steered the front end of the cart, walking backward. “Hey, Cade.”

“Hi, Bossman.” Chloe grinned.

“Hey, guys. This one goes in the room on the left.” I pointed, holding the tablet toward the correct doorway with an extended arm.

I wrapped an arm around Hannah as she stepped into my side, and we followed the two into the room. Pressing my mouth and nose into her hair, I inhaled deeply, grounding myself in her tropical scent.

Then I looked over the brightly colored cake to answer her question. “I think it’s brilliant. Soccer, huh?” She’d grilled me nonstop about the likes and dislikes of both boys: hobbies, taste preferences, colors. I’d compiled the list of questions, then had the mother complete two profiles to give Hannah inspiration.

“Yeah. I went with a sports theme for both. That way each gets a unique cake, but neither can say they got something better than the other.”

I chuckled. “Wise woman.”

The cake was simple in theme, yet intricate in design. On one side, an empty orange-and-white goalie net bracketed a grassy soccer field. Players ran midfield across the turf. The other side had a life-sized black-and-green soccer ball flying up off the field. A sugared air wave with whitish swirls supported the ball.

“Looks great, Maestro.” I kissed her temple. “We’re about thirty-five minutes out from party time. You all set with the other one?” Daniel and Chloe finished positioning the cake on the far table and wheeled the empty cart by us and out the door.

She nodded. “Minutes away. I’m excited to see your reaction to Jared’s cake.”

I arched a brow. “Oh? I’m intrigued.” Winking, I smacked her ass. “Go. I’ll meet you in the other room.”

Before leaving, I double-checked room set up for John’s bar mitzvah celebration. Per our instructions, ten tables with ten chairs lined the perimeter of the dance floor. Between the tables near the side wall that adjoined to the other party sat the photo booth. Along the back wall were long banquet tables covered in black tablecloths with a line of chafing dishes that would hold the food. At the end, on its own separate table, the soccer ball cake was displayed.

Suzanne and Kristen each carried a handful of streamers attached to balloons, and they deposited small groupings of them around the room. The tables held a variety of masculine centerpieces, from black baseball caps with green-and-blue “J & J” scripted on them to commemorate the boys’ day to green foiled party crackers. Not a single flower was anywhere in the room, by the boys’ request.

Darren finished setting up along the other side wall. A friend he’d brought bent over the equipment, making adjustments. I walked over to check on their progress. “How’s it going?”

Both men looked up. Darren kicked his chin up toward me in greeting.

I extended a hand to the newcomer. “Cade.”

“Rick. Nice to meet you.” He gave my hand a quick shake, then shifted his focus back to the equipment, sliding a dial down the sound board.