I let out a breath that might have been a laugh if I had been less furious. “I work fifteen miles away.”
Maren pulled out her phone, scrolled, and turned the screen toward me. A text thread. Eden’s messages, bright blue and confident: My sister’s fine with it. She’s just hard to pin down. She’s out of town Thursday, but setup is approved. Don’t worry about getting her signature. It’s a surprise for her too.
A surprise for her too. The cold feeling in my chest spread. Eden had not misunderstood. She had lied strategically, with just enough detail to make people act before I could stop them.
“That’s not true,” I said.
Maren went pale. “I need you to understand — I never authorized your company to come here. I signed nothing. I approved nothing. Eden Sutton does not own this property.”
Maren looked at the tent, then her crew. “Stop setup. Everyone stop where you are.”
The men lowered the floral arch into the grass. Colleen came down from the porch and stood beside me. Maren flipped through her clipboard, lips thin. “I’m so sorry. We were given a signed venue confirmation.”
“By Eden?”
“Yes.”
“Not by me.”
“She represented that she had the authority.”
“She doesn’t.”
Maren looked tired and angry in the controlled way working women get angry while still on the clock. “I’ll need to speak with her immediately.”
“You’ll get the chance,” Colleen said, looking down the driveway. “Because here she comes.”
Eden’s white SUV came fast up the gravel, dust billowing like she was arriving at her own rescue. Brett sat in the passenger seat, tense, sunglasses on though the sun was behind him. Eden parked crookedly, jumped out, and started talking before the door closed. “Victoria, thank God. Okay, I know it looks like a lot, but wait until you see the tables by the water. It’s going to be gorgeous.”
“Stop.” The word came out sharper than I expected. Everyone froze.
I stepped toward her. “You told Lakeside Lux I approved this.”
Her eyes flicked to Maren, the tent, Colleen, then back to me. “I was going to explain.”
“You said I was out of town. You said it was a surprise. You told them not to get my signature.”
Brett got out slowly. “Eden,” he said quietly. She ignored him.
“I knew if I asked, you’d say no.”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s usually why people ask.”
She was dressed for a party already — white linen pants, a soft pink blouse, gold sandals, hair blown smooth. She looked like a lifestyle ad standing in front of someone else’s violated boundary.
“This was important to me.”
“So you lied.”
“It’s our anniversary.”
“It’s my property.”
“It was Pop’s.”
“And he left it to me.”