Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2) by Violet Howe

eight-year-old sister Hannah plucked the petals from her flower-girl basket and dropped them on him.
    "Hannah, put the petals back in your basket," I said, closing the doors behind their mother, the last in the processional. She never even looked back. "Nathan, buddy, come here. Where'd you put the pillow?"
    He ran past me and slapped his hands in the water fountain, and I wished for a moment it was holy water so the truth would be revealed once and for all. Evil of me, I suppose, but this kid was on my last good nerve.
    "Nathan, come here. I need to know what you did with the pillow." I don't know why I thought he'd listen to me. He hadn't listened to anyone else.
    The organist began the bridesmaids' song again, and panic set in. The kids should have already been down the aisle, and I should have already been on my way to retrieve the bride and her father from the dressing room.
    I crouched in front of him and got doused with water flicked from his hands into my face. "Nathan, listen to me." He flicked the remaining drops of water at me, and I grabbed hold of his arm as he tried to make a run for it. "I need the pillow, Nathan."
    Before I knew what happened, he punched me right in the nose. Hard enough to make my head swim and my eyes go all dark with twinkly spots for a moment.
    "I'm Batman! No one messes with Batman," he said, charging past me and back into the foyer.
    "Catch him, Charlotte!"
    Ms. Brain Trust stood there dumbfounded, looking back and forth between me and the little tuxedoed beast as he struggled to open the heavy door. He managed to squeeze himself outside just as I got to my feet and in pursuit.
    "He threwed it in the lake."
    I stopped and looked back at Hannah, who had put her petals back in the basket and was busy shredding them one by one.
    "What did you say, Hannah?"
    She repeated it without ever looking at me.
    "Nathan threwed the pillow in the lake."
    I bolted out the door and after Nathan, waving at the bride and father to go back inside the dressing room. "I'll be right there. Just gotta grab Nathan!"
    "Nathan! Get your ass over here, boy," the bride's father bellowed at his grandson, who completely ignored him and set out to climb the nearest tree.
    "Nathan, I'm gonna get your Daddy! Get off that tree and get over here," the bride yelled, but her nephew kept right on climbing.
    I reached the base of the tree just in time to grab his ankle, but he kicked wild, so I let go and ducked. My nose still hurt too much to risk a heel to the face. Nathan perched himself on a limb just out of reach and looked down at me, grinning like the devil himself.
    "Nathan, what did you do with the pillow?"
    He nodded and pointed to the lake before laughing and clapping his hands in delight.
    I scanned the lake near the shore but saw no sign of the small pillow.
    The bride's father pushed me aside and easily grabbed his grandson's legs, yanking him down from the tree and planting him on the ground.
    "Get yourself inside, boy," he said as Nathan took off running away from him.
    I scanned the lake one more time before facing the bride, uncertain how to tell her the wonderful news.
    "Um, I think Nathan may have thrown the rings in the lake."
    No way to really sugar-coat it or pretty it up much. Especially when the organist was on his third run-through of the bridesmaids' song waiting for the flower girl and ring bearer to enter.
    "He what?" She shrieked loud enough that I am sure the guests could hear her over the organ music.
    I sent her and her dad back inside the dressing room with Nathan and Hannah, and then I opened the sanctuary door just wide enough to cue the organist to play some filler music and stall. He glared back at me, but I had no fear of him after dealing with the pint-sized prince of the underworld.
    It took me almost twenty minutes of wading barefoot in the shallow water along the shore to find that stupid pillow. The tannins in the lake from the tall Cypress trees that lined it had already stained the