Ascending

Chapter Nine

I can't believe I agreed to help Genie plan her wedding. Which consists of me planning something and her not liking it. I'm going to be Queen. This is not what I should be spending my time on.

I turn around in my desk chair and glide over to the other side of my horseshoe desk. I pull out swatches of fabric and begin holding them against the light. I've already decided on navy blue for the suits. Bobby has never been able to pull off a black suit that well.

I pull out a thick binder filled with different fabrics. Different patterns, colors, and materials. The plastic pages creak as I flip through some of the reds and pinks. Pink would match Genie's hair. Except for Bobby's skin tone!

I'm going to lose it.

"You know that you talk to yourself when you work?"

My stomach lurches into my throat as I jump and drop the dusty pink satin fabric in my hand. David is stretched out on the grey suede couch I have pushed against the wall of my study. My corkboard hangs above him with mountains of papers and pictures tacked onto it.

"How long have you been there?" I demand scooping the swatch back up.

"Five minutes!" David sighs dramatically. He drapes the back of his hand across his forehead and feigns distress. "You didn't even notice me."

"I was focused," I defend taking the navy blue swatch and pinning it in the corner of my cork board that I have cleared off for the wedding.

David pushes himself off the couch and begins poking around my desk. He lifts corners of papers to peer at whatever is below them. I told Kennedy to stop cleaning in here years ago. I could never find anything after they organized.

"Why are you planning your wedding?" David askes, looking at the folder of wedding dress sketches I have next to my computer. "You don't even know who you're marrying." He picks up the fabric binder and begins flipping through the pages.

"It's not for me," I say reaching for the binder. "It's for Bobby and Genie."

David moves in one fluid motion to keep the binder away from me as he places it down on the opposite side of my desk. Curse the fencing instructor. He's given David the reflexes of a cat. He looks at the page of red dresses that I have marked and shakes his head.

"This won't work at all." He discards the bookmark and flips all the way to the yellow pages.

"David!" I cry.

"What?" He grins. "Sloan can't wear red. If we don't change she would make us."

I hate it when he's right.

He runs his fingers over some of the options before he lands on a deep yellow. "What about this one?"

I quirk my eyebrow as I read the label. "Marigold?"

"Yes," David nods firmly. "Yellow is a happy color."

"You do realize that all of us are in the wedding procession, right?" I say turning my gaze to him.

David gasps. "You're right. You would look atrocious in marigold!"

I slap his arm lightly. "I wasn't talking about me! I was talking about Nick!"

David flashes me another cheeky grin before heaving more than half of the pages to the left. He scans the metallic colors and he stops suddenly. "What about copper?"

I take the book from him and examine the page more closely. "Copper," I muse. "Copper could work."

I pull off the fabric out and rub the swatch between my fingers. "We'd be better of having the dresses made of rayon." I look up at the rest of my plans and my faces cracks into a smile. "David you're and genius!"