CHLOE
Kain and I exchanged a look—equal parts disbelief and resignation. Emma’s notebook sat on the bathroom counter like a time bomb of poorly thought-out plans, but somehow we’d been sucked into this charade by some stroke of dumb luck. Again.
“Let me get this straight,” Kain said slowly, scrubbing a towel through his damp hair. “You want me to deal with angry vendors, you want Chloe to coordinate decorations and music, and you’re...what? Sitting back and supervising?”
Emma gasped dramatically. “What's that tone supposed to mean? Excuse you, Kain! I am overseeing. Big difference.” She tapped the notebook. “This takes vision. You two are just here for the heavy lifting.”
“Yeah, I don’t like where this is going,” I muttered, rolling my eyes and reaching up to cross my arms. “I'm prett
