Suzanne’s pov:
The conference room smelled like fresh flowers and overpriced candles.
There were charts taped to the glass walls, colour palettes scattered across the table, silverware samples, menu cards, and a PowerPoint presentation open on the big screen. Yes, a whole ass presentation.
At the centre of the storm?
Rachael was In full event general mode.
Stella lounged on one side of the table flipping through photos of floral centrepieces, casually sipping from a champagne flute like this was a bridal launch party and not a last-minute family dinner.
I sat at the head of the table, barefoot, hair in a messy bun, eyeing the madness unfolding before me with something between awe and disbelief.
"I thought this was supposed to be a small family dinner," I muttered, blinking at a three-tiered cake sketch that definitely wasn’t part of the original plan. "I’m tired."
Rachael didn’t even look up. "Darling, it is a family dinner."
She clicked through to the next slide in her presentation:
