Juniper Hill (The Edens #2)(69)
“Clean,” Memphis answered for her, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Yes.” Gianna nodded. “It needs a mess.”
I grinned at Memphis. “How about dinner? Mac ’n’ cheese?”
“Have I ever said no to your mac ’n’ cheese?”
I winked and got to work.
As I went about boiling water and hauling ingredients from the walk-in, Gianna blended into the background. Her camera’s shutter clicked in a steady stream as I made my woman her favorite meal.
“I think I’ve got it,” Gianna said as I dished Memphis a bowl.
“Want to stick around and eat?” I asked.
“No, I think I’ll head out. The magazine is usually pretty good about sending you the final shot selections before they publish. But if you want any for yourself, my email is still the same.”
“Great. Before you go, would you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
She had her faults, but photography wasn’t one. Gianna had a talent behind the lens.
I walked to where Memphis was sitting, watching, and picked up Drake. Then I took her hand and pulled her to the prep table, putting my arm around her. “Would you take one of the three of us?”
Memphis’s hands went straight for her hair, fixing it around her face. “I’m not very pretty for pictures.”
“You’re always pretty, honey.”
Gianna studied us for a long moment, then lifted her camera. It clicked a few times, and as she checked the photos, an understanding came over her face.
She saw it. She saw the way I loved Memphis. “I’ll get this one to you.”
“Appreciate it.”
Gianna tore down her setup in minutes, loading it into her case. Then she hauled it to the door, stopping before leaving the kitchen. “It was nice to meet you, Memphis.”
“Have a safe trip home.”
Gianna gave me a sad smile. “Goodbye, Knox.”
“Bye, Gi.”
She disappeared, returning to her world. While I sat down beside mine.
And ate dinner.
CHAPTER TWENTY
KNOX
“Close your eyes.” Memphis clasped my hand, pausing outside the hotel annex’s doors. Then she led me through, pulling me in a few steps before we stopped. “Okay, open them.”
In the past ten days, the ballroom had been transformed for an elegant winter wedding. Golden lights had been strung above the dance floor. Bouquets of red and green dotted tables dressed in white. Even the chairs had been covered. At their ties were sprigs of holly and red berries.
“Wow.” I let Memphis pull me deeper into the room, passing tables set with gold-trimmed plates and crystal goblets.
“Isn’t it a dream?” Memphis’s smile stretched across her face. “It’s been so fun to help set it all up.”
The wedding tomorrow wouldn’t be a large affair. It was for a local couple and they’d limited the guest list to one hundred. Knuckles was catering the event. The hotel was sold out, not only from the out-of-town wedding guests but for those in Quincy for the holiday.
Christmas was in three days, and every member of the staff had been working nonstop, especially Memphis. She’d kept up with the housekeeping rush, and when the bride had asked for help getting this ballroom staged, Memphis had been the first to volunteer.
“The cake is going to go there. Then the bar is getting set up tomorrow in that corner.” She pointed around the room. “And the DJ will be next to the dance floor. I’m going to pop in tomorrow morning and make sure all of the flowers have water.”
“Are you working tomorrow?” It was a Saturday and she hadn’t mentioned it. Though we’d been so busy this week that by the time I’d made it home each night, there hadn’t been a lot of conversation. I’d save just enough energy to give her an orgasm or two before we’d both crash hard.
“No, but I was going to come into town and do some last-minute shopping. Maybe get your mom something small for Christmas.”
“We already got her a present.” A gift card to the local spa.
“That was from you. I want to get her something from me. Besides, it’s not like I’m shopping for my own mother this year.”
“Sorry.”
She lifted a shoulder.
Weeks had passed with no word from her parents, not even a hint as to how they’d handled the blackmail situation. I checked the New York newspapers online each day. Memphis did too. There hadn’t been a mention of any member of the Ward family or Oliver MacKay.
The calls from Beatrice had stopped, so I assumed that Victor had paid, and in turn, they’d disowned Memphis once more. They’d left her in Montana.
But she wasn’t alone. Not any longer.
We reached the dance floor and I spun Memphis into my arms. “Dance with me.”
“I miss dancing.” She leaned her head against my chest as we swayed in the quiet room. “When I lived in New York, there was always an event or wedding or gala to attend. The dinner conversation was usually about business or who was buying a new yacht or where so-and-so was going in Europe. It was the same, every time. But I loved the dancing.”
“And who would you dance with?”