The two of them obviously eloped, and now the guy wants to indulge his wife. Whatâs wrong with that? You were married. Didnât you oblige your wife now and then?â
âNow and then,â he replied.
âSee? I rest my case.â
âSo you do.â An odd look crossed his face and Larissa couldnât help but wonder if his concession was more to avoid an argument than because of any point she might have made. Thereâd been a definite edge to his voice that suggested as much.
âIâm sorry,â he continued. âIâm afraid Iâm not cut out to be an event coordinator. I was brought here to handle the financial issues, not plan weddings.â
There was more to his outburst than being uncomfortable with the job, Larissa was certain of that. She was beginning to think that, for some reason, he had a deep dislike for weddings in general. Rather than press the issue, however, she allowed him his excuse.
âDonât you have a catering manager who can handle these kinds of events for you?â
âYou saw what kind of mistakes Maria left us to deal with. My catering manager is already overcommitted handling the events on the books. Asking him to plan a last-minute ceremony in addition to everything else heâs doing might cause him to quit. Then where would I be? I will take care of planning Paulâs and Lindaâs event myself.â
Larissa nodded at the manila folder that lay by his bread dish. âSo is that the work youâre bringing home? Their ceremony?â
âIt is. I plan to write their proposal after supper.â
âWhat do you have planned?â Like Linda, Larissa found herself eager to hear his ideas. Probably not for the same reasons, but eager nonetheless.
âDoes that include the moonlight cruise you sold them on a second ago?â Carlos asked.
âYes.â
Her request had to wait, because the waiter chose that moment to bring out the next appetizer. Two bowls filled with a pale green broth.
âSopa de lima,â
he announced. Larissa stirred the mixture with her spoon, letting the citrus smell wash over her. âTom thought all these details were a waste of money, too.â
âI didnât say I thought it a waste of money.â
âBut you donât think much of all the planning, either. And donât say thatâs not true,â she said, shaking her spoon, âbecause itâs obvious you donât.â
She could tell he was choosing his argument by the way he hesitated. âSo many people...they spend all this time and effort creating the perfect memory, and for what? So they can pick apart the event after the fact, and focus on the mistakes? Every day, my managers bring me complaints. The food wasnât what they expected. The temperature in the room was set incorrectly. The service wasnât discreet enough. The service was too discreet. The list is endless.
âMakes me wonder why people even bother,â he added, stabbing at his bowl with his spoon. âEspecially when no matter what you do, you canât make them happy.â
Larissa refrained from comment. The acerbity accompanying his last comment suggested their conversation had crossed from theoretical to personal. Very personal, in fact. She thought of their other encounters. His exaggerated concern this morning, his shuttered expression. Didnât take a detective to realize her host carried some dark, heavy baggage.
Curiosity pushed her to find out what, but she held back. This vacation was about focusing on her own issues, not distracting herself with someone elseâs. No matter how much someone elseâs issues cried for her attention.
âUnfortunately for you, Paul and Linda
are
bothering,â she said, pointing out the obvious instead. âAnd from the sounds of things, Paulâs looking for spectacular.â
âUnfortunately, yes, he is, and if you have any spectacular