34
Jennifer
Nora was a magician. There was no other explanation for the dream world that she had created inside the barn at Wright Vineyard. It hardly even looked rustic after she was done with it. Long white drapes covered most of the exposed walls. Chandeliers hung all around the room. Circular tables lined the perimeter with elegant floral arrangements set amid wrought iron candelabras and purple velour runners. An enormous WC—for Wright Construction—was next to the stage, draped in vines and flowers, a perfect backdrop for pictures. Everything was lush and over the top.
“You are a little genius,” I told her as I stared in awe. I couldn’t even bring my camera up to my face to see it all through the lens.
“Thanks. I’ve been working day and night. I even had August freaking build the
