"What do you mean, maybe?"
Ava woke up to the scent of grilled fish, miso, and impending doom.
Specifically: Mei's version of room service.
She sat up groggily, only to find the sliding doors to their hotel suite wide open and Mei already inside, fluffing pillows like she owned the place. A full traditional Japanese breakfast spread had been set on the table—grilled salmon, tamagoyaki, rice, soup, pickled vegetables, and—
"Are those heart-shaped nori sheets?" Ava croaked.
Mei beamed. "Subtle wedding symbolism."
"Breaking into our room before 8 a.m. is not subtle."
Ryan padded out of the bathroom in sweatpants, blinking at the table. "Is that… a tofu bouquet?"
Mei handed him a cup of green tea. "You'll need your strength. I've drafted a new itinerary."
Ava narrowed her eyes. "For what?"
"For the wedding, of course! I made a vision board. With samples. And Harold booked a floral design consultant for noon. You're welcome."
