“How did you know I was an attorney?” Paige was astonished that he knew of her law career.
“We did our homework, too.” Mrs. Klein smiled.
Paige smiled nervously. “I see. Please feel free to take your time to have your lawyers look over the contract.”
“No need to waste time. We already had him look over the contract you faxed with your proposal. Everything is in order. You have a thorough contract.”
“I find it makes things easier in the long run.”
“True. We can sign the contracts now. I have a check ready for you.”
A heady rush came over Paige as Ms. Brillstein notarized the signatures, then made several copies for everyone’s respective files. Mr. Klein then handed Paige a check for $25,000, which Paige assumed was in part for wedding-related expenses.
“As you make decisions and preparations all you have to do is contact my accountant, William Walters, and he will take care of the payments.”
Paige looked confused. “I’m sorry, Mr. Klein. I thought the check was for some of the initial wedding expenses.”
“No, my dear, that’s payment on your services. More will come as we get closer to the wedding.”
A little stunned, Paige recovered quickly. “All right. When should I make arrangements to meet with the happy couple?”
“Jennifer and Michael just got back from Aspen yesterday. We’re set to have lunch with them this afternoon. Do you have time to meet with them today, Paige?”
Paige’s heart pounded. “I can. I cleared my schedule to be here.”
“Isabelle, they just got back. Maybe we can wait until tomorrow,” Mr. Klein entreated his wife.
“No. We have to jump on this quickly.” She turned to Samantha. “Please call my daughter and tell her I expect her to be home for this lunch.”
“Yes, Mrs. Klein.” She went to her desk.
“I’d like to get this show on the road. We have big plans and we need to get a jump on them. Right, Paige?”
Paige had a lump in her throat the size of Plymouth Rock. “Planning ahead is important, but waiting another day isn’t a problem.” Paige prayed she’d handled it deftly.
Samantha walked in. “Mrs. Klein, your daughter is on line two for you.”
She picked up the phone. “Yes, Jennifer?” She stopped to listen a minute. “I’m sure Michael will understand. We’ll see you at home.” She hung up.
“Isabelle, I thought you were going to lighten up on her a little.”
Paige realized she was in the middle of one of those mother-daughter things. This is going to be interesting to deal with, to say the least, she thought. Fortunately she knew something about mothers and daughters from her own experience.
“You trust that I only want the best for our daughter, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“Then it’s settled.”
“I’ll call for the car,” Mr. Klein said.
Paige’s hands were clammy. She’d expected to hit the ground running, but not that soon. She anxiously tapped her foot, realizing she’d just have to go with the flow. Mr. Klein got off the phone. “We’re all set. Sam will get your coat.”
“Thank you.”
Without a word she bundled up and followed the Kleins from the elevator to the waiting Mercedes. Mr. Klein allowed the ladies to get in and get situated. Once he was in, the chauffeur closed the door.
“To the penthouse, Mr. Klein?” he asked.
“Yes, Raymond, thank you.”
Paige was a little too nervous to indulge in light pleasantries. She turned her attention to the notes she’d made on her BlackBerry. The Kleins didn’t seem to mind her reticence. As longtime New Yorkers they could block out the noise of the streets and spend the time planning.
* * *
Matthew arrived at his parents’ townhouse. Ronald Cummings, the Smythes’ head butler, greeted him. Just a little more grey, he’d been with the Smythes since Matthew was old enough to walk.
“Matthew.” He smiled. The two men embraced.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. C. How are you feeling these days?”
“I can’t complain. Besides, any day above ground is a good day.”
“Who can argue with that?”
“Your parents are in the sunroom.”
“Thanks, Mr. C.”
As Matthew walked down the hall he remembered the days when he and Michael would race their Big Wheels up and down the hallway, much to the chagrin of their parents and, more importantly, Mr. C., who was in charge of keeping the floors pristine.
“Margie, you worry too much. I am sure the Kleins have the wedding preparations under control. Remember, you are the mother of the groom, not mother of the bride,” Douglas Smythe reminded his wife of thirty-four years.
Matthew shook his head as he heard the words exchanged. Some things never change. Mom is still trying to bite off more than she can chew.
When he walked into the sunroom, there sat his parents in their respective favorite chairs. Even with his long legs folded Douglas Smythe cut quite a swathe in his tailored suits with his trim runner’s build. He was always meticulous about his appearance. His dark hair had gone grey long ago, but it suited him. Margaret Smythe had been very athletic growing up, in fact had been a member of the Olympic swim team in the early sixties. She’d managed to maintain her toned swimmer’s build although her days of competitive sports were over. Her new field of play was raising money for charity. Far less forgiving when grey hair appeared on her head she kept a standing salon appointment to keep her tresses as close to her natural blonde as possible.
“Hey, Mom and Dad.”
“Matthew. When did you get here?” his mother asked as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Just a few minutes ago.”
His father stood up and they hugged. “How are you doing, son?”
“I’m good, Dad. What about you?”
“I feel good, too.”
“So where is the man of the hour?”
At that moment Michael walked in. Although shorter than Matthew, his build was similar to that of their father. His light hair complemented piercing blue eyes that seemed to twinkle when he smiled.
“Hey, Matt.”
They hugged. “I have to say that being engaged agrees with you,” Matthew observed. He stepped back to take a closer look. “I see you’ve got a little color to you.”
“Aspen was terrific. It was cold, but the slopes were amazing. You would have loved it.”
“Sounds pretty awesome.” He looked at Michael’s suitcase. “You haven’t unpacked yet?”
“No. Jennifer and I were going to go shopping for the new place, but our plans changed.”
“You mean her mother had other ideas.”
“I love Isabelle, but she’s a hard woman when it comes to Jennifer.”
His mother piped up. “Jennifer is her only child and she wants the best for her. Sometimes that can seem hard.”
“You knew that going in, right?” Matthew asked.
“Yes. I love Jennifer and if this keeps the peace, I’m willing to do it.”
“You’re a good man, Charlie Brown,” Matthew teased.
“There’s nothing like being in love, brother.” Matthew regretted mentioning the four-letter word in front of his parents. He wasn’t in the mood for the avalanche of questions.
“How about we have a hot chocolate?” Michael asked.
“Sounds good to me.”
“Mom, Dad, do you want a hot chocolate or maybe some tea before we leave?” Michael asked.
“No thanks, son. We’ll be leaving in just a few.”
“Okay, we’ll make it quick.”
The two brothers disappeared down the hall and to the kitchen.
“Thanks for saving me, little brother. My mouth was in gear before I realized what I said.”
“You know that’s the $64,000 question with you. Everyone wants to know when you’re going to settle down.”
“When I
find the right woman.”
“And what, pray tell, are you looking for in a woman?”
“I would like her to be intelligent, well read, have a great sense of humor and adventure. And even though I listen to all types of music, she has to dig classical music.”
“You’re not asking for much, are you?” Michael said facetiously.
“Well, I did buy a house. I guess that’s the first sign of being willing to commit.”
“It’s a step in the right direction.”
“So what is this lunch all about?”
“The Kleins want to discuss the wedding details. I think they mentioned something about hiring a planner.”
“That’s a good idea. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
“Matthew and Michael! We’re ready to leave,” Margaret called.
“That’s our cue. Thanks for coming, Matt. I know this isn’t the way you expected to spend your day off.”
“That’s okay. Besides, who can turn down a free lunch?” he joked.
CHAPTER 5
Paige and the Kleins made it back to their place in fairly good time. A doorman rushed out to help Mr. Klein out, who in turn, helped Paige and Mrs. Klein out of the car. When Paige walked into the building she looked around at the décor then took a whiff. It even smelled like old money. They got on the waiting elevator. Within two moments they’d arrived at the posh penthouse. A butler waited at the door.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Klein. Mrs. Klein.”
“Good afternoon, Charles.”
“Are we all set up for lunch?” Mrs. Klein asked as she handed him her wrap.
“Yes, we are, ma’am.”
“Good. Did Sam tell you we have one more for lunch?”
“Yes, Ms. Brillstein called. However, ma’am, we are expecting one more additional person.”
Mr. Klein stopped. “Really?”
“Yes, sir. Both the Smythes’ sons are coming.”
Mrs. Klein approved. “That’s nice.” She turned to Paige. “You’re in luck. You’re going to meet everyone.”
Paige nearly didn’t hear her over the sound of her heart beating in her ears. “That is wonderful.” She folded her coat over her arm.
“You can give Charles your coat, dear.”
“Oh.” A little embarrassed, she handed him the coat.
Paige followed Mrs. Klein to the dining room where the table was set. She surveyed the table. Dining with the Kleins was definitely not for the faint of heart. They were hardcore. Luckily Paige knew the difference between the fish fork and salad fork, and though it bored her to tears at the time, she was glad Ms. Watkins covered table settings.
“We have coffee and tea and service set up in the parlor. Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to change and Hiram has a few business calls to make.”
“Not a problem.”
The couple excused themselves.
Alone, Paige studied the Kleins’ impressive art collection of museum-worthy paintings by Degas, Picasso, Monet, and even Pollock.
“Their art collection is amazing,” she remarked to the butler.
“Yes, it is, Ms. Baldwin. Would you like coffee or tea?” Charles remained focused on his task.
“Coffee, please, with cream and two sugars.”
Charles served her. “Here you are, Ms. Baldwin.”
Paige admired the Wedgwood coffee cup. “Thank you again.”
“Let me know if you need anything else. The Kleins will be with you shortly.”
As Paige sipped her coffee she heard the faint sounds of music playing. She unconsciously began conducting the orchestra with her hands.
“I see you enjoy classical music.” Mr. Klein said as he entered the room.
She was a little startled. “I do. It’s the finale to Tchaikovsky’s Little Russian Symphony and it’s one of my personal favorites.”
Just then Jennifer entered the room. A pretty girl with long brunette hair, Jennifer stood about five feet, four inches. She looked to be a plus size petite with her textbook pear shape.
“Jennifer, this is Paige Baldwin. She’s your wedding planner.”
They shook hands.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer.”
“Likewise, I’m sure.”
“Your parents told me you were in Aspen. I hope you had a good time.”
“We had a great time. We could have had a better time this afternoon but this is a command performance.”
“This is about your wedding, Jennifer. It wouldn’t kill you to seem interested.”
“I would have been more interested tomorrow. I don’t know why you had to do this today.”
“Did you or did you not say you and Michael wanted to get married this year?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why we’re doing this today. His parents are coming so we can hammer out a date and get this show on the road.” Paige knew by the tone of Mrs. Klein’s voice that was the last word.
Jennifer huffed but she backed down.
“Now why don’t you tell Paige your vision for the wedding?”
“Why don’t you tell her? You’re running everything else.”
It didn’t take long for Paige to figure out that partisan politics between the Democrats and Republicans was a garden party compared to the relationship between mother and daughter.
“Jennifer.”
Mrs. Klein’s tone of voice said she meant business.
“Basically I just want to have the biggest and best wedding of the season,” Jennifer said.
Paige took her notebook out. “About how many guests are we looking at? You don’t have to give me a firm number, just a ballpark figure is fine.”
“We may have five hundred to six hundred guests or more.”
Paige tried to keep her eyes in her head. “For that number of guests we’d be looking at The Plaza, which can accommodate up to five hundred guests, the Waldorf for up to a thousand, or Tavern on the Green for up to three thousand.”
“I think the Waldorf is a good choice,” Mr. Klein said.
“I think we should discuss it with Michael. It’s his wedding, too,” Jennifer said.
“I’m sure he’ll go for the Waldorf. What kind of time schedule are we on, Paige?”
“It’s March, so we’re in the nine-month area of the bridal calendar countdown. The good news is you have four out of the nine things on the countdown accomplished. You announced your engagement, set a budget, estimated the number of guests, and hired me.”
“What’s left to do?”
“First and foremost, you have to decide on a reception site since that will likely dictate the actual day for the wedding.”
“Why should my wedding be based on their calendar?” Jennifer’s tone was flippant.
“Jennifer, please rein it in.” Mrs. Klein was embarrassed.
“Well, I just don’t get it, Mother,” she snapped.
“Paige is a professional. I’m sure she knows what she’s talking about.”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Klein, I’m happy to answer the question. Many hotels and reception halls book weddings from one year to as many as two years in advance. So if you want a December wedding this year, we need to figure out which reception site you want and see if they have dates available in December.”
“Whatever. “Jennifer rolled her eyes.
“Hush, Jennifer Miriam!” Mrs. Klein almost lost her cool. “Please go on, Paige.”
“Have you given any thought to the ceremony itself? You have to think about where you want your ceremony performed and who will officiate.”
“That’s something that needs to be discussed.”
“It’s Michael’s wedding, too, Mom, and he’s not Jewish.”
Paige realized she’d shaken up a hornet’s nest.
“We’ll discuss it over lunch when the Smythes get here.”
Jennifer had her arms and legs crossed, which told Paige she was done talking about the ceremony, at least for the time being.
“How about we talk about the wedding dress? Do you have any particular style in mind?”
“I wanted Jennifer to wear my wedding gown.”
Mrs. Klein looked to be a size 4. Jennifer, on the other hand, was plus size.
“Obviously I don’t have a hope in hell of getting into your wedding gown, Mother,” Jennifer shot back.
“Jennifer, watch your language,” Mrs. Klein warned her.
She rolled her eyes at her mother again.
Paige tried to play peacemaker. “Maybe Jennifer and I can talk about it a little later.”
Mrs. Klein got up. “No need. I’ll leave you two to talk about the gown. I have to check on the preparations for lunch.” She left the room.
“God, she can be such a pain,” Jennifer growled.
Paige wanted to tell her all mothers are pains but thought better of it.
“So, Jennifer, tell me what you see in your mind’s eye for your gown?”
Paige could see the weight lift from Jennifer’s chest. “I want to feel like a fairy princess.”
“So would you like to go with a traditional first-time bride look?”
“Yes. My friend Sophie Green got married last year and her gown was gorgeous.”
Paige flipped through her mind. “Are you talking about the Sophie Green who married Andrew Watters in the Botanical Gardens last year?”
Jennifer was surprised. “Yes.”
“I remember her dress. I think it was patterned after the gown Narciso Rodriguez made for Carolyn Bessette’s wedding to JFK Jr.”
“That dress was gorgeous.”
Paige nodded in agreement. “It was a fantastic gown.” It was also a very slim silhouette. Carolyn was a tall girl and, if memory serves, so is Sophie.
“I would like something like that.”
Paige took a deep breath. “We can see about giving you a clean shape that will help to elongate you so you’ll appear taller.”
“Isn’t that what Sophie’s dress did?”
“Yes. But if memory serves, Sophie’s a tall girl. At least she looked tall to me.”
Jennifer swallowed hard. “She is tall. She’s about five feet, nine inches or so. I don’t see why it should make a difference.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” The words escaped from Paige’s lips before she could stop them.
“No. I’m not kidding you. I want that dress.”
Bliss, Inc. (Indigo Love Spectrum) Page 4