“Peach or apricot?”

“What's the difference?” Brianne rolled her eyes as she pushed both swatches of color across the kitchen table toward her fiance. He just glanced back and fourth between the two pieces of plastic and shook his head. Jeff couldn't seem to tell them apart. “Yeah, I don't see it.”

“You're impossible,” Brianne scoffed as she snatched up the two swatches and brought them over to the sunlight by the backdoor of her three bedroom home she shared with her parents to get a better look at the two. Jeff was over to discuss some things about their May wedding. Falling just past the mid-mark of December, Brianne was trying to decide on a color scheme to put everything else together with—from the flower arrangements to the color of the invitations.

“Well, I just don't understand why you have to ask me what my input about this is,” Jeff replied, sighing. “I told you, I don't care if we have the biggest wedding in the world or get married legally in Vegas in one of their pathetic excuses for a chapel. I just want to make my vows and know that I can be with you for the rest of my life.”

“Well aren't you just so sweet,” Brianne grinned as she crossed the kitchen and sat down on Jeff's lap, draping one of her arms around his shoulder. Pulling his head closer, she laid a small kiss on his lips before pulling away and smiling at him. Knowing that she would hear this speech a million more times unless she stopped asking him about what he thought about every little decision, she decided to make a deal right then and there. “Fine, I promise I won't pull you into the wedding unless we're talking about guests, okay?”

“Sounds like a good deal.” He leaned up to kiss her again, and she obliged, resting her other hand on his chest. She could hear the sound of clicking heels behind her, and knew that her older sister, Melanie, had entered the kitchen. Right after she heard the clicking of the heels cease close by, she heard a loud clearing of the throat. The two pulled away from each other and looked up at Melanie, who had her arms crossed across her chest.

“Can we help you?” Jeff so bravely asked. Melanie just rolled her eyes as she grabbed her sister's arm and pulled her across the kitchen to the scattered papers with decisions to be made for the wedding. As the maid of honor, Melanie was helping as often as possible with making arrangements and appointments to meet up with the wedding planner.

“Yeah, you can go watch football with Mark in the living room, since you're not going to help. Brianne has work to do with this wedding.”

“Bye.” Jeff spoke the simple word rather quickly and stood up, practically running out of the room. Melanie rolled her eyes once more before having a seat in the chair at the head of the table. She began sifting through the internet print outs and swatches from their wedding planner, wondering where to start first.

“Have you started to think about guests yet?” Melanie finally asked, letting the papers drop from her hand onto the table's surface. She was defeated with the thought of even going through the papers and knew that talking about invites would be a perfect option to begin.

“Well, sort of,” Brianne said, letting her fingers graze her lip as she brought herself into thought. “Jeff and I talked about a few guests. Maybe seventy of the family so far. We haven't even began talking about friends and such.”

“Well, you need to get on that soon enough. I'm sure Denise is going to be asking about it soon with setting up the tables and decorations and flowers for the tables. And then there's food and champagne--”

“Okay, Melanie, I get it. Put talk about guests with Jeff on the top of the 'to do' list.”

“Alright, second on the 'to-do' list,” Melanie said, pretending to read off of the lined sheet of paper. “Meet our wedding planner in fifteen minutes at her office.”

“Crap,” Brianne muttered, glancing at the watch that dangled from her wrist. “Can you grab that stuff for me? I'm going to run in the other room and grab the car keys.” Melanie nodded as she began shoving the papers in the manilla folder, while Brianne rushed out of the room.

They were going to be late.

//

Brianne burst through the front door of the office, glancing at her watch at the same time. They were only about ten minutes late, the drive over being longer than expected. The traffic was unbearable, only being about a week away from Christmas.

“Denise?” She looked around, no one sitting at the front desk. Soon enough, she heard the woman calling from her back office, telling her to come on back. Brianne followed the sound of her voice, and soon found herself standing feet away from the dark haired, Italian woman. She had her curly hair pulled back in a pony-tail away from her face as she typed away on her laptop. Closing the lid, she smiled up at Brianne before extending her hand, telling her that it was such a pleasure to see her again. Noticing that she was alone, though, Denise frowned.

“Was Melanie unable to make it?”

“Oh, no, she'll be in in, like, five seconds. She's driving around, trying to find a parking spot. Sorry we're late. Traffic is crazy with the seasonal shopping.”

“Oh, tell me about it,” Denise sighed, shaking her head. “It took me a half hour to get into the office today. I don't know what people think they're going to find this close to Christmas.”

Brianne shrugged and set the manilla folder down that Melanie had handed her while she was getting ready to look for a parking place.

“So, I was talking about some colors with my fiance a little while ago--”

“Mom, I got the—oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you had a client in here.”

Brianne turned to the boy who just entered the room. Well, the man. He looked about Brianne's age. His dark hair fell in his eyes as he clutched the cardboard box tightly to keep it from slipping from his grip. His dark, brown eyes just peeked through his dark locks that fell halfway down his nose. She watched as he shook his head gently to allow him to see again. Denise smiled at the guy, before standing up and pointing to where he should place the box. He nodded his head and made his way over, setting it down on the floor in the corner. Turning around quickly, he locked eyes with Brianne again, before leaving the room to retrieve the other boxes. She turned back to Denise to continue with what she was saying before he came with the box.

“I'm sorry about that,” Denise smiled, warmly. “He'll be back in a few more times. I told him to pick up some of the decorations for another wedding I'm coordinating. He's just dropping them by for me.”

“Oh, he's your assistant?” Brianne asked, curiously. “He looks like he could be your son. He has your hair, and eyes.”

“Oh, he is my son, honey. I just hired him for the time being. He needs a job while him and his brothers work desperately hard to get into the music business. I don't make enough money to buy them their amps and Gibsons, and recording equipment they keep asking for. I'm just hoping their big break is coming soon.”

Brianne nodded her head as she turned back to the manilla folder that sat on the desk before her.

“So, I'm sorry about that, dear,” Denise said, gesturing towards the folder that sat on her desk. “Please, go on with what you were going to say.”

Just as she went to open her mouth, he stepped inside the room again with two more boxes.

Oh, how this was going to be a long day.