Fiancé Refused My Mom the Guest Room, Gave Female colleague Master Bedroom

2: 2

2

The wedding planner called that afternoon.

"Ms. Swanson, Mr. James wants to lock down the final schedule today. Are you downstairs yet?"

"Just got here."

When I pushed open the conference room door, Paul was seated on one side of the long table, and Sara was in the chair that should have been left for me.

Spread out on the table was the schedule book I'd spent two months on.

A few sections had already been crossed out in red pen, with new times written beside them.

The planner stood up, her smile a little awkward.

"The bride's here."

Sara vacated the chair at once.

"Sorry, I was only reviewing the schedule for Mr. James."

Paul corrected her fast.

"She's my subordinate, not the bride."

But the moment he said it, he pushed the schedule book back in front of Sara.

"Go on. You know the work guests and the timing better than Fiona does."

I sat down on the other side.

Sara pointed at the start time for the evening reception.

"Mr. James has a regional meeting that morning, so I'd suggest pushing the ceremony back half an hour. And this table of guests—it would be better to move them closer to the head table."

"That table is my mother's relatives," I said.

Her hand paused.

Paul cut in. "It's just a change of seats. Doesn't matter where they eat."

"On the wedding day, do both sets of parents' seats not matter either?"

He lowered his voice.

"Don't come in looking for a fight."

The planner bent her head over the paperwork, pretending not to hear.

Sara capped her pen.

"Mr. James, I really shouldn't be involved. It's perfectly normal for Ms. Swanson to feel uncomfortable, and given my situation right now, I don't want to interfere with your wedding either."

She stood to leave.

Paul reached out and stopped her.

"Sit down."

Then he looked at me.

"Fiona, you've always been reasonable. You wouldn't hold something like this against anyone."

I asked, "You've decided to let her keep making changes?"

"She understands my work better than you do."

The conference room went quiet.

The planner set the confirmation pen she'd been about to hand me back down on the table.

In six years, every time Paul called me reasonable, it was followed by something I had to give up.

He was busy, so I rearranged the timing for him.

His mother didn't like outdoor weddings, so I changed the whole plan.

He wanted to invite more clients, so I cut names from my own guest allotment.

And now he was using that same reasonableness on Sara.

I turned to the last page of the schedule book.

"The venue layout, the invitations, the welcome-area design, and the on-site staff for the day—all of it was provided free by my studio."

Paul watched me.

"So?"

"As of now, stop using all of it."

The planner blinked.

I gathered the originals stamped with my studio's seal into a folder, leaving only the written notice the vendors would need.

"Whatever's already been produced gets billed at actual cost. Everything not yet produced is withdrawn."

Paul's face darkened.

"You're using work to hold our relationship hostage?"

"Work is work. The reason I never charged before was that I thought this was my wedding."

Sara stood off to the side and said softly, "Ms. Swanson, the schedule is still yours. I wasn't trying to take it."

"You're sitting in my seat, editing my schedule. Whether that counts as taking it, you don't need to ask me."

Her face paled.

Paul shoved his chair back.

"Do you have to embarrass everyone?"

"The embarrassing part is me taking back what's mine?"

He didn't answer.

The planner picked up her calculator and reran the costs. With the studio's free support pulled, the budget went up by nearly sixty thousand dollars.

Paul glanced at the number.

"We'll deal with that later. Let's just settle the schedule today."

"You settle it."

I picked up the folder.

At the door, he called after me.

"Both sets of parents are meeting the day after tomorrow. Don't forget to prepare the budget sheet."

I looked back at him.

"I won't be preparing it."

"Then how do we settle the money?"

"Whoever's spending it can settle it."

The irritation on his face finally shifted into something a little more wary.

I didn't give him the chance to press.

The wedding was still on the calendar.

But from that moment, there was nothing left for me to finish.