Til Death Do Us Part

by Eliza Watson

  His mouth slowly curled into a smile. “Yes, we did.”

  She forced her gaze from his gorgeous blue eyes and glanced back up in the tree. “I don’t see it.”

  “I was just admiring the memorial someone carved. My aunt would have gotten a kick out of it.” He gestured toward the bark.

  Last “Fall”—No More Alcohol

  “At least she died doing what she loved.” He scanned the sprawling lawn filled with towering oaks, a distant look in his eyes. “I used to climb these trees as a kid. Had a fort in one over there.”

  Everyone knew he’d come to live with his aunt at a young age, but Cassidy couldn’t recall ever having heard what happened to his parents.

  “Must have been a great place to grow up.”

  Ryan nodded. “The best.” He peered over at the swimming pool shaped like a beer bottle where a bulldog cannonballed a German shepherd. “This is how she’d have wanted it.” He glanced over at her. “You did a great job with the funeral. Been doing this a while?”

  “No, actually I’m a…was a wedding planner. Only been doing funerals a few months.”

  He arched an intrigued brow. “Wedding planner?”

  Here it comes. The jokes guys always made. If she couldn’t marry ’em, she might as well bury ’em.

  “I took this job to help my friends expand their funeral business. I saw it as a challenge.”

  Yeah, right. Her old company had been involved in a scandal and used her as the scapegoat. The owner’s daughter had substituted designer wedding dresses with knockoffs and pocketed the difference. Cassidy had unknowingly purchased several dresses for clients, making it even easier to be framed. After stealing many of Cassidy’s creative ideas, the company had the nerve to accuse her of stealing money. She hadn’t had any evidence, or funds, to prove her innocence. Even though the scandal had stayed out of the media, local wedding planning companies heard the rumors and wouldn’t touch her. The only event planning job she could get was themed funerals.

  Ryan gave her a curious look. “Yes, well, I’m actually in need of a wedding planner.”

  Milwaukee’s most eligible bachelor was off the market? Strange, she hadn’t read about his engagement. Why hadn’t he hired her old company? All the rich, prominent citizens used To Have and To Hold.

  “When are you getting married?”

  “Soon.”

  “You haven’t set a date?”

  “Nope, the sooner the better.”

  How refreshing. A man who loved a woman so much he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. After all the women he’d dated, he’d finally found the one.

  Cassidy smiled. “You better set a date soon or all the best venues and caterers will be booked.”

  “After I find a fiancée, I’ll nail down the details.”

  “Find a fiancée? Just have the sudden urge to marry?”

  “My aunt wanted me to.”

  “That’s sweet you want to fulfill your aunt’s dying wish, but she was obviously a hopeless romantic. She wouldn’t have wanted you to marry someone just to be married.”

  “Guess she wanted me to marry for love and money, since I won’t receive my inheritance until I tie the knot.”

  Cassidy did a mental eye roll. He was at his aunt’s funeral, scheming to get his inheritance. As if he even needed it. He was supposedly some sort of financial guru, and his black designer suit probably cost more than she made in a month.

  She plastered on a perky smile. “I’m sure you won’t have a problem finding a wife.”

  “Actually, the will stipulates that I hire a matchmaker and my aunt’s staff approves my fiancée. Aggie never liked my taste in women.”

  The women he dated looked like they’d just walked off a Paris runway or out of a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon’s office.

  “It’s none of my business, but why not take your aunt’s wish seriously? You just might get lucky and fall in love.” Getting lucky on a regular basis was undoubtedly why he preferred being a bachelor.

  He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, even if we only stay married at least a year as the will stipulates, the woman is getting a helluva deal. I get my inheritance, and she gets a half-million bucks. And I’m really a millionaire, not misleading her like that TV show.”

  “So you plan to divorce after a year?”

  He shrugged. “There’s a fifty percent chance it would happen anyway. It’s a reality. You’re a wedding planner. You only see people’s fantasies.”

  Why did everyone assume wedding planners were sappy, delusional romantics?

  “So, do you want to find me a fiancée?”

  “I’m a wedding planner, not a matchmaker.”

  “Find me a bride and you can plan the wedding. Aggie’s lawyer was quite impressed with your credentials. I trust his judgment. And you did a great job with the funeral. I’ll give you an extra twenty-five grand for playing matchmaker.”

  Her heart raced. She could hire a lawyer to prove her boss had been crooked, clear her reputation within the industry, start her own wedding planning company…

  “Make it thirty-five if I’m engaged within a month.”

  Holy crap! That would definitely clear her name!

  “If you’re not interested, I’m sure I can find a wedding planning company happy to provide the extra service.”

  Her old company, no doubt. She would almost do it for free just to see the look on her former boss’s face when he found out Cassidy landed the wedding of the decade. But she needed funds to start her own planning company.

  “Fifty grand if I find her within twenty-one days, plus my planning fee.”

  He arched a brow. “Kind of steep.”

  “Steep? You’re willing to give some woman a half mil to stick with you a year. And by the time you hire another company and they get started, you’ll have lost days, maybe weeks. I can start now. I’m discreet, reliable—”

  “You’re hired. And I’ll give you a ten-grand advance.”

  She clamped down on her lower lip to keep from squealing with delight. She would make fifty thousand dollars in three weeks and reveal her old boss as a lying backstabber!

  “I want to get married within a month after the engagement.”

  December. Ideas for a holiday wedding flooded her mind.

  “I’ll need more money.”

  His gaze narrowed. “More than fifty grand?”

  “No, money for deposits. The venue, caterer, all that. If everything isn’t already booked for holiday parties. I need to—”

  “Fine. Use the same venue for the ceremony and reception. I want it fast and easy. My lawyer can iron out the financial details with you.”

  A security guard at the front gate radioed through on her earpiece, advising her of a fur-bearing woman trying to scale the front gate, demanding entrance. Forget the fact that invitations explicitly stated no fur allowed—it was seventy degrees out. Much too warm for a mink. But it wasn’t about being practical, it was about “appearance.” How could a woman think she looked good when she was sweating off all her makeup and on the verge of heatstroke?

  She responded into the tiny microphone attached to the mandarin collar of her green satin embroidered dress. “If she refuses to leave, tell her she can speak to the police commissioner. He’s in the tent enjoying a highball with the mayor.”

  Cassidy glanced over at Ryan. “I’d better start tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Ryan watched Cassidy march off toward the fence, the sun highlighting her hair’s deep burgundy coloring. Her green satin dress hugged her curves in all the right places and matched her emerald-colored eyes. The most hypnotic eyes he’d ever seen. Yet her exotic looks weren’t nearly as arousing as her attitude.

  The woman had balls.

  Women were rarely assertive with him. Whatever you want, Ryan dear. That was the type of woman he gravitated toward and escorted to various work- and charity-related functions. It wasn’t a commitment so he didn’t have to worry a
bout falling for a woman and wondering if she only wanted him for his money, like Serena. Actually, Serena hadn’t even wanted him, merely his bank account.

  “Looked like an intense conversation,” Alex said, walking up.

  Ryan glanced over at his friend and aunt’s lawyer. “Looks like I’m getting married.”

  “You certainly didn’t waste any time.” Alex peered through his gold wire glasses over at Cassidy, who had just let out a deafening whistle, stopping a cat from chasing a bird around the water fountain. “She’ll keep you in line.” His gaze narrowed. “Wait a sec, the will stipulates your aunt’s staff and I have final approval of your fiancée.”

  “I’m not marrying her. She just agreed to find me a wife.” Ryan arched a brow. “Do I have your approval?”

  Alex shrugged. “Fine by me. You don’t want to use the brewery’s marketing department?”

  “Bob has been pushing me to go on The Bachelor for years, insisting it’d be great promo for the brewery. Colette has been trying to marry me off to her nieces. And Rick wanted to set me up with two Hispanic women in an attempt to increase beer sales to that demographic. The marketing team would make this even more painful than it already is. They can handle the promotional end. Cassidy is a former wedding planner, pro-love. Adds some legitimacy to this farce. Maybe she can make it seem believable and keep the media off my ass. If that’s possible. And she agreed to do it in three weeks.” The sooner this was over, the better. Even if he had the slightest desire to marry for love, he was realistic enough to know he couldn’t fall in love in a matter of weeks.

  “So what did she think of The Dating Game idea your aunt mandated?”

  “We didn’t get that far.” Besides, this would be a one-time event, not some reality program. Even though it was being broadcasted on TV. Not to mention, he’d marry the first contestant he chose to date.

  “Too bad your aunt wanted you to marry someone other than a self-absorbed bimbo. Veronica would marry you in a heartbeat.”

  “We’re not even dating, and she acts like we’re married. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to give her the impression we’re in love.”

  “Sucks to be so ethical. Aggie would have approved of Cassidy. She seems strong-willed and feisty, like your aunt.”

  “Well, I don’t approve of her. She’s completely delusional about love. And way too money hungry.”

  “You thought having money was an issue before, wait until you get your inheritance.”

  “Precisely why I’m donating everything outside of company stock to charity. I’m not about to let someone take over majority shareholding after what the brewery meant to my aunt. Also not letting everyone think she was nuts by leaving my inheritance to her cats and the mansion to the Animal Rescue Squad if I don’t marry within a year. The staff has lived here more than thirty years. She knew damn well I wouldn’t let them lose their home.”

  No way in hell was the media catching wind of the will’s clause and digging for more dirt. The whole cat fiasco paled in comparison to the other secrets they might uncover.

  “And the staff wouldn’t let you marry someone you didn’t love even if they knew about the clause.” Alex glanced across the lawn at an oak tree by the terrace. “Some people mistake eccentricity for insanity,” he mused. “I have a lot of great memories of Aggie. Like when she hired a contractor to build our tree fort. The most kick-ass fort ever. We’d stay up there entire weekends.”

  Ryan laughed. “Yeah, planning our futures. I was going to pitch for the Brewers, and you were going to quarterback for the Packers.”

  “But then my mom wouldn’t let me play football.”

  Ryan merely nodded. Saying good-bye to his aunt today was depressing enough. He was in no mood to discuss why he hadn’t pursued his dream.

  “At least you had the chance to play with Rollie Fingers,” Alex said.

  Ryan had made Alex promise never to tell the other kids he had the all-time greatest Brewers pitcher for a private coach. He’d tried hard to be an average kid, although his aunt made it impossible. One year for his birthday, she’d treated him and his friends to a baseball game, surprising him with a skybox filled with Hall of Famers. He’d never had a shortage of friends. Just hard to tell which friendships were genuine, except for Alex’s. When his aunt’s lawyer had died a few years ago, Alex was the only person Ryan trusted for the position.

  He glanced over at Cassidy attempting to calm the woman in the fur. Guess he’d have to rely on one more person to help save his aunt’s reputation. He couldn’t entrust her with the secret of the will’s clause, but he could count on her to find him a wife.

  Unfortunately, like most people in his life, it appeared Cassidy Baldwin could be bought.

  Chapter Three

  Cassidy and Lucy returned from Aggie’s funeral to find Kenny with his feet propped up on a folding chair in the chapel, snoring away in front of the large-screen TV. Lucy’s gaze narrowed on a tiny bottle of ouzo stashed in a potted fern. She stalked over to the plant and snagged the liquor bottle, glaring at a cigar butt floating in the bottom of it. Apparently, a Greek funeral was as rowdy as a Greek wedding.

  “I can’t believe somebody was smoking in here.” She pitched the bottle in the garbage.

  Somebody? Everyone including Mrs. Mitropoulos must have lit up. The place reeked of stale cigar smoke along with the faint aroma of olive oil and garlic.

  “Sure you don’t mind me taking this new position?” Cassidy asked Lucy. “I don’t want to leave you guys high and dry.”

  More like she didn’t want Kenny freakin’ out and evicting her from the apartment. Although her psychedelic bedroom painted deep purple with glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across the ceiling wasn’t really her taste, it was better than moving in with her parents in Chicago. She needed to use her ten-grand advance to book the best booth at the January bridal expo where she would showcase pictures from the city’s most elaborate and famous wedding ever. Couples would be lined up in front of her booth the length of the expo building.

  Besides, things could be worse. She could be living out of her Bimmer. The only way she could afford the high car payment was because Kenny paid half of it. Not out of the goodness of his cheap heart, but because she’d agreed to plaster Thompson’s Funeral Home ads on the sides of it. This and free burial service were her only company benefits. Call her crazy, but if she had to die to receive a benefit, was it really a perk?

  Planning Ryan Mitchell’s wedding would enable her to once again cruise the streets of Milwaukee with her head held high.

  “This is the opportunity of a lifetime,” Lucy said. “Go for it. We’ll manage. We owe you big time. You got Kenny’s family to think outside the box.” She giggled. “Get it? Think outside the box? As in coffin?”

  Cassidy smiled faintly. “I get it.”

  “Just a bit of underground humor. You turned this place around and made them see beyond the traditional funeral service.”

  Cassidy had discovered her knack and love for planning creative events when she’d planned her cousin’s Roaring Twenties-themed wedding in Chicago. She’d wowed everyone, except her parents. Her mom had insisted it was a fun little hobby but she could never make a successful (i.e., lucrative) career from it.

  She refused to prove her mom right.

  “We’re probably going to have to hire two more planners after Aggie Cornwell’s funeral today. Business will be booming.” Lucy shook her head. “Still can’t believe she never married.”

  “Maybe she was one of the lucky ones. Even if women do stay married, you know how many older widows I hear at their husbands’ funerals talking like their husbands’ deaths are the beginning of their lives?”

  “Don’t let one failed engagement turn you off of marriage.”

  A lot more than her ex-fiancé, Nick, had turned her sour on marriage.

  “Look at Kenny and me. We’ll be together forever.”

  This was supposed to make her feel better? Not that she wanted Lucy
to get divorced, but she hadn’t been thrilled about her marrying Kenny.

  Cassidy pulled the notepad from her purse and started making a list. “I need to contract Villa Luna. It’s the city’s top venue. Hopefully, Henri’s Catering is available. I have to use the best vendors for this city’s biggest wedding ever, and my big comeback.” She slipped her phone from her purse. She still had the Italian villa on speed dial.

  “First, you need to find him a fiancée.”

  She stopped just shy of placing the call. “I have no clue where to begin. I’m not a matchmaker. Couples are already together by the time they book me. They certainly don’t come to me already planning to get divorced like this guy.”

  “But you have a sixth sense. Your gut tells you when two people are meant for each other and will be together forever.”

  Cassidy arched a brow. “What about Nick?”

  “Well, besides him. It doesn’t count when it’s yourself. You can’t be unbiased. We’ll find potential fiancées, and then your instinct will select the perfect one.” Lucy gasped with excitement. “This could be a new business. A one-stop shop. You could play matchmaker and then plan the couple’s wedding.”

  “Hmm… That would be a niche market…” Lucy was right, Cassidy had a perfect track record pegging which clients would make it and which wouldn’t. But it wasn’t like she was going to turn down business because a divorce was inevitable or try to talk couples out of getting married. She wouldn’t have had a business. She didn’t have control over people divorcing. If she did, her parents wouldn’t still be in a loveless marriage. “Just one problem. This guy wants to divorce after a year. Would kind of be bad press for my matchmaking end of the business.”

  “So find him a woman he doesn’t want to divorce.”

  Yeah, right.

  Cassidy collapsed against the couch, feeling overwhelmed.

  “Hey, this guy saved your life. You owe him one.”

  “Saved my life? What are you talking about?”

  “You said if you had to plan one more football-themed funeral, you’d hurl yourself off a cliff. Kenny booked one yesterday.” Lucy twirled a clump of blonde hair around her finger, a pensive look on her face. “You know, you’ll have to be cremated if you ever do take a swan dive. Kenny’s not that good at major restorations.”