“Nah,” the volhv said. “Constipated isn’t your problem. You’re too slick about it. Women sense when you’re faking.”

“What am I supposed to do about that?”

“Stop trying so hard.” The black volhv pivoted to me. “I have questions.”

“Can it wait?”

“No. Your wedding is in two weeks. Have you prepared your guest list?”

“Why do I need a list? I kind of figured that whoever wanted to show up would show up.”

“You need a list so you know how many people you are feeding. Do you have a caterer?”

“No.”

“But you did order the cake?”

“Umm . . .”

“Florist?”

“Florist?”

“The person who delivers expensive flowers and sets them up in pretty arrangements everyone ignores?”

“No.”

Roman blinked. “I’m almost afraid to ask. Do you at least have the dress?”

“Yes.”

“Is it white?”

“Yes.”

He squinted at me. “Is it a wedding dress?”

“It’s a white dress.”

“Have you worn it before?”

“Maybe.”

Ascanio snickered.

“The ring, Kate?”

Oh crap.

Roman heaved a sigh. “What do you think this is, a party where you get to show up, say ‘I do,’ and go home?”

“Yes?” That’s kind of how it went in my head.

“You do realize most of the Who’s Who in Atlanta are going to want an invite to this?”

“They can bite me. This wedding is for me and Curran, not for them.”

Roman leaned his elbow on the table and rested his cheek on his hand, looking at me with a kind of amused hopelessness.

“What?”

“So I should tell my mother not to bother coming?”

Offending Evdokia and the Witch Covens of Atlanta wasn’t on my agenda. I was on thin ice with them as it was.

“Your mother is invited.”

“What about the Pack? The Beast Lord is Curran’s best friend.”

Grrr. “The Pack is invited, too.”

“And Luther?”

“Luther?” What did Biohazard’s self-appointed wizard at large have to do with it?

“I ran into him on the way here and happened to mention the wedding.”

Aha. “You boasted that you would be officiating.”

“Yes, I did, and I regret nothing. The entire Biohazard Department will be coming.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to count to ten in my head. Sometimes it helped. One . . . two . . .

“Also, your father.”

My eyes snapped open. “What about my father?”

Roman blinked. “That was a bona fide snarl.”

Ascanio nodded, his eyes wide. “Yes, she gets scary sometimes. She’s very difficult to work for.”

“I can imagine.” Roman nodded at me. “Roland will be attending and he’ll probably invite some people.”

“By the time the wedding comes about, we may be at war. He won’t be attending, take my word for it.”

“Kate, you’re a good person. But you’re delusional. That’s okay. You’re getting married. You’re supposed to be delusional, irrational, and crazy.”