Mitchell's Power Play

Stress

SAMMY

Mitch came back to New York with me. He stayed for a little over a week, where he spent most of his time at training, or meeting with his agent or whoever, before he flew back down to Florida.

Nash had been the go-to person for Jose for anything he needed in person while we were home. His company had finished the demolition and completed all the drawings. They had sent them all to us together with the contract.

Mitch was going back down to Florida to look over everything once the construction got started. And when he went back home to New York, Howard would take over. He and Liz were finishing up in the new apartment and were eager to get back to their Florida house for a little while.

I had been busy at work. It's probably no surprise that there are a lot of wedding's in the summer. I usually didn't mind being busy and wedding cakes were my favorite thing to make, so that should have made me happy. But for some reason, which might have something to do with the rock on my finger, I was a bit frazzled.

And not because I regretted anything. There was just so much to do.

Sylvia had noticed the ring the minute I walked into work on Monday morning.

"You're blinding me," she joked as she pretended to shield her eyes with her hand, which only made me wiggle my hand even more. She smiled as she reached for my hand. Then she nodded in appreciation. "Told you he was a keeper."

That she did. "Yeah, you were right."

The smile widened on her weathered face. "Good for you, Sammy."

There was so much I wanted to do. So much I had to get done. I wanted Kennedy to come back home so I could drag her with me to go dress shopping. I also needed to plan the wedding in Florida. Find caterers, tent, table and chair rentals, a DJ, a pastor, oh and obtain a marriage license. Then we needed to write a guest list, order and send out invites. During all this I had to pack up to move into Mitchell's apartment, and we had construction going on in Florida, aaaaannnddd I had to make wedding cakes...

It was getting close to 8 at night and I was packing up my bedroom, deciding what to keep and what to throw out, or donate, when Mitch called.

"When are you coming back?" I demanded in a grumpier tone than normal.

"Eh, Sam? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I sat down on the bed and forced myself to take a slow breath. It wasn't Mitchell's fault that I was overwhelmed. "I'm just stressing. That's all."

"Don't. Everything is moving along. I'll be back home on Friday, and by then, they should already have the floors down."

That made me perk up. "Really?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "That's why I called you. I sent you pictures of how it looks now, with the old kitchen gone and the walls down."

"Get out."

I scrambled off the bed and hurried into the living room in search of the laptop. That was something I really wanted to see.

"What are you doing that's keeping you away from your interior design searches?" he teased.

"Packing up the bedroom."

I powered on the computer and waited impatiently for it to start up.

"I like the sound of that," Mitch snickered. "Feel free to bring whatever you have straight into my bedroom."

"I don't think I'm keeping much of my furniture. Most of it is old, or secondhand kind of stuff. Yours is much better."

"Whatever you want, Sammy. We can buy new too, if you want."