Beach Wedding

by Cruise, Bella

  “With extra fries?”

  I think I see a glimmer of a smile on Pixie’s face as Theo leads her away. Crisis averted – for now.

  I turn back to Luke. “Drama, drama, drama,” I sigh, worn out. “I can’t wait to clock out and meet you tonight. The movie’s just what I need.”

  He clears his throat. “Actually, I forgot, I made plans with some buddies of mine. I’ve been blowing them off all week, so…”

  I try to hide my disappointment. “No, go ahead, you should spend some time with them. Maybe call when you’re done and I could come over?” I add, reaching for him.

  Luke steps away. “Sure, maybe. It could be late, so don’t wait up.” He holds up his phone. “I’ve got to make some calls.”

  “OK.” I watch, puzzled, as he strides away. But then I hear my name being called, and I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’ve got a dozen things to check off my list, and I’ll see Luke later tonight. The wedding waits for no man – or planner.

  Chapter Twenty

  Luke doesn’t call back that night, or respond to my texts, so I figure it was a late one with his buddies, after all. I get a good night’s sleep and wake ready to attack this final phase of wedding plans. We’re in the home stretch, and barring any more bridal meltdowns we can hit this one out of the park. Next up: the rehearsal dinner. Except with the show, nothing’s a rehearsal: there will be cameras on every inch of this event, the first time all of Pixie and Clyde’s family and friends step foot in Pelican Key Cove.

  “It looks like the weirdest tour group in the world,” Theo remarks, as we watch the limos start arriving. Women in tiny bandage dresses and teetering heels spill out, exclaiming loudly about this ‘darling’ beach and that ‘way cute’ pelican. Meanwhile, Clyde’s band mates decided to roar up in the massive party bus they’ve hired out for the night, blasting hard rock music at full volume. “If anyone wondered where the world’s supply of dirty leather and Viagra is, it’s right here.”

  “Is Pixie feeling better?” I ask, still worried about her wobble yesterday.

  Theo nods. “Yes. But she’s really feeling a lot of pressure. She thinks everyone’s careers are depending on this wedding, and they’ll all hate her if she screws up.”

  “They will,” I reply, distracted. I look back to see Theo’s frown. “Hey, we don’t have to tell her that. Just keep her calm and happy, it’s just like any other gig. Remember the Fitzgibbons-Fleischer wedding in May? There was a whole international corporate merger riding on that ceremony, and they made it through just fine.”

  “But that couple really loved each other.”

  “And Pixie and Clyde do too. In their own way.” I watch the hoard of bridesmaids descend on our bride, squealing with excitement. “Look, she says she wants to marry him, and that’s her choice to make. It’s just all a bit much right now. I would be buckling too under all this chaos.”

  Theo sighs.

  “It’s not our job to judge our clients,” I remind him gently. “I’ve worked with a few couples who should never have been walking down that aisle. I’m talking knock-down drag-out fights over something as simple as an invitation style. It’s not easy, but they want to go ahead with the ceremony, and that’s their decision. We only see part of the story. Trust me, Pixie and Clyde are like a match made in heaven compared with some of the things I’ve seen.”

  “OK,” he says, reluctant.

  I check the time. “I have to go talk to the chef. Can you take care of the bridal party? I think the seating is worked out, but there might have been some feuds break out in the last five minutes.”

  “Hide the steak knives?”

  “And the nail files.”

  I head inside, pleased with how the place has come together. We needed a great restaurant that didn’t mind being overrun by the Hollywood hoards, so I decided to hire out the whole of Luke’s friend Evie’s place. The big dining room is already set with camera equipment and big boom microphones, poised to pick up all the gossip, and the far doors are open to the evening breeze.

  “Everything looks great,” I say when I find Evie in the back. “Thanks so much for accommodating all the production needs. I know it can seem a little crazy, but I promise, they’ll leave the place exactly the way they found it.”

  “Are you kidding? This is fun!” Evie smiles, then leans in confidentially. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m, like, addicted to their show. I sprained my ankle last year and wound up in bed for a couple of days. Once I clicked on the first episode, I couldn’t stop.”

  “It is pretty compelling. Although I don’t know if I could watch it any more, now I know everything that goes on behind the scenes.”

  “You don’t want to know how the sausage is made,” Evie agrees. “Although here, we do it with sage and bourbon.”

  I laugh. “Listen, about the menus—”

  “I have the latest draft right here.” Evie pulls out the heavy card stock, lettered with a glamorous calligraphy. “We have gluten-free options, low-carb, and even a raw food course if you need it.”

  “I could kiss you right now!” I sigh with relief. “I’ve been fielding emails from everyone’s PR people all day wanting to check that butter won’t cross their precious clients’ lips.”

  “Their loss,” Evie shrugs. “We’ve got a butter-poached lobster that’s going to blow your minds.”

  “Sounds amazing, I can’t wait.” I catch a glimpse of my sweaty reflection in one of the mirrors. I’ve been running around all day helping to set up, and now I look like a mess. “I better get going. I have to go get cleaned up before Luke picks me up.”

  “That’s right, the best man.” Evie grins. “I can’t believe he got roped into this too. How’s he liking his moment in the spotlight?”

  I pause, not sure if it’s weird to be talking about him after they dated, but Evie seems totally casual and cool.

  “In his stride, like most things. Anyway, thank you again for all of this. It’s perfect. See you in an hour!”

  I head home and dive straight into the shower. It’s rare I actually wind up a part of events like this. Usually I’m in the background, making sure everything’s running to plan, or already at the event space setting things up for the ceremony the next day. But since Luke and I have roles in the wedding, I’ll technically be off the clock tonight. I’m looking forward to taking some time to get dressed up and enjoy a fancy meal on the production’s dime. Since I’m going to be on-camera, they even sprang for wardrobe. Marcie messengered over a gorgeous emerald cocktail dress from a designer who’s usually way out of my price range. I’m guessing there’s another sponsorship deal lurking in the fine print, but still, it’s a fun chance to put some glad rags on.

  I fix my hair up and apply make up, feeling excited. I check my phone for a message from Luke, and then catch myself: it’s like I’m sixteen all over again!

  I laugh, smoothing down my dress. I’m so happy we have this second chance together. The week has flown by faster than I could have imagined. I find myself counting down the minutes to see him again – but instead of having to rush home for curfew, or sneak around to be together, we have all night to enjoy ourselves. Hours spent kissing and touching in that glorious big bed of his, catching up on the last ten years we’ve missed.

  I don’t want to lose this again.

  I pause. I’ve been trying to ignore the future, just relax and focus on spending time together right now. But I realize I don’t want to put it off any more. I want to plan a future, and know that Luke is in it. Whatever that means. Jules was right: it’s not about all-or-nothing. He can come visit me in New York; I could try and spend part of the year down here. People need their weddings planned in Florida, too! It could even be an off-shoot of my main company, a tropical destination spin on the traditional theme. I could bring someone in to handle the New York office while I’m gone, or promote someone from the team. My mind races, thinking over the possibilities.

  Don’t rush into anything, Ginny.
<
br />   The voice of reason cautions me. I haven’t even talked to Luke about any of this yet; I don’t know what he’s thinking. But our time together has been so great, this second chance can’t just be for a one-off temporary fling.

  He means so much more to me than that. I don’t want to walk away again.

  “Don’t you look fancy?” Rae comes in as I’m finishing up my make up, with Bettina right behind.

  I do a little spin for them. “These heels make a change from my sneakers,” I grin. “I just have to make sure I keep my balance, and don’t fall flat on my face in front of the cameras.”

  “You and me both.” Rae leans in to touch up her lipstick, and I realize she’s dressed up too: wearing a long silk scarf over a wildly-patterned silk kaftan. Bettina is wearing a long strappy dress in a bright gold tone, with armfuls of chunky tribal jewelery.

  “You’re coming to the dinner?” I ask, surprised.

  “Clyde invited us. Iisn’t that sweet?” Rae exclaims.

  “But don’t worry, we’ll stay out of your way,” Bettina adds with a wink. “Us old folks will leave the partying to you younger generations.”

  I smirk. “If anyone’s going to be dancing on the tables, it’s you two. Remember when I had to go bail you out for getting arrested at that illegal rave, back in high school?”

  “Oh honey, that was years ago!” Rae laughs. “Our raving days are behind us.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Bettina hitches up her bra. “Are any of Clyde’s band mates single, do you think?”

  I check my phone. Luke is supposed to come pick me up, but I haven’t heard from him all day. ‘Still good for the dinner?’ I type. I’m about to hit send, when the doorbell rings.

  I smile, hurrying to go answer. “Perfect timing.” I grin, opening the door. Luke looks dapper and cleanly-shaven in a natty black suit. “Wow, you look great!”

  I reach up and kiss him hello. “You too,” he says, stepping back. “Ready?”

  “Oh, sure.” I grab my purse and tell my aunts I’ll see them there. “Don’t be late,” I warn them.

  “Are you kidding?” Bettina grins. “I want to see all the action.”

  I follow Luke out to his truck. “How’s your day been?” I ask, as I get inside. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “I’ve just been busy. Stuff at the sites, you know.”

  Luke starts the engine. “Me too,” I sigh, “I can’t wait until all this is over. I’m going to nap for days. Maybe even take a real vacation. Mexico, maybe. What do you think?”

  “Sounds good.” Luke keeps his eyes on the road. He seems stressed, but I imagine it can’t be easy juggling all the production’s demands along with his regular projects. Yes, a vacation is exactly what we need. I can just picture the two of us together on a beach somewhere – clothing optional.

  “It’s great that Evie let us use the restaurant,” I chatter as we head to the party.

  “Well, I’m guessing you threw enough cash at her that she couldn’t say no.” Luke’s voice has an edge to it. I look over.

  “Are you OK?”

  “Fine.”

  He doesn’t sound it. But maybe that’s because he’s not thrilled to be here tonight. Clyde and Marcie pretty much strong-armed him into taking on best man duties, and maybe he was just too polite to turn them down. “Have you got a bachelor party planned too afterwards?” I ask. “I’m supposed to go on a bar crawl with twenty of Pixie’s dearest friends. I don’t even want to imagine the kind of bachelorette games they’ll come up with.”

  “Yeah, I think Marcie said something about that.”

  We pull up to the restaurant, and I burst out laughing. They’ve staged the entrance to the restaurant like the red carpet at a movie premiere: guests are walking the long terrace against a backdrop emblazoned with sponsor logos, posing for photos from a back of paparazzi cameras.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Luke takes in the show.

  “You have to hand it to Marcie, she never does anything by halves.” I tuck my arm through his, and head for the red carpet.

  “Over here!”

  “Give us a smile, love!” I strike an awkward pose, and the photographers take a couple of pictures, but when they realize we’re nobodies, they all look to the next arrivals.

  “Phew,” I breathe a sigh of relief as we get inside. “I can never take a decent photo. Remember out senior year portraits?” I nudge Luke. “I kept blinking at the wrong moment. In the end, my picture looked like I was squinting at the sun.”

  He looks around. The tables are all laid out, and guests are milling about, catching up and chatting to the cameras about Pixie and Clyde’s fairy tale story. I can see my aunts across the room with Clyde’s band mates. “You want a drink?” he asks.

  “Thanks, that would be great!”

  Luke heads off to the bar, and Pixie sees me from across the room. “Ginny!” her high-pitched voice cuts through the crowd. “Oh my god, you have to meet my parents. Ginny is my maid-of-honor, and new BFF,” she beams, dragging me over.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, fascinated to see the people I’ve only ever watched on-screen. Pixie’s mom, Muffy, a former beauty queen turned fitness guru, is squeezed into a tiny minidress with her blonde hair styled sky-high. And her father, Chuck, has brought out his best comb-over for the night.

  “Are you making sure our angel has everything she wants for her big day?” Muffy coos.

  “Yes ma’am.” I smile. “It’s going to be beautiful.”

  “It better be,” her father snorts into his whiskey. “I’m the one footing the bill for this shindig.”

  “Chuck!” Muffy jams her elbow into his paunchy ribs. “Our Pixie-bell is getting married. Money can’t measure how happy we are.”

  “Sure. When’s dinner?” Chuck asks, looking around. “It better not be any of that rabbit food baloney, I need some real meat.”

  “And you’ll get it,” I reassure him. “The chef here is wonderful. In fact, I think I see some appetizer trays coming out—”

  The words are barely out of my lips before Chuck goes charging off to grab one.

  Muffy trails him, calling, “Not the steak bites. What did Doctor Zimeski say about your cholesterol!”

  Pixie gives me a faint smile. “I’m so sorry about them. They were fighting in the car the whole way here.”

  “Not to worry,” I comfort her. “Once the champagne starts pouring, everyone will get along just fine.”

  Pixie rolls her eyes. “If we can keep them drunk until Sunday, maybe everything will be OK.”

  I meet the rest of Pixie’s extended family, and then it’s time to sit for dinner. I find my place is at the head table, with Pixie and her parents, Luke, Clyde, and his cousins – who it turns out, are a banjo folk band from England.

  “Never did like all of this hard rock nonsense,” one of them tells me, leaning in close. He’s in his fifties, maybe, with ratty long hair and a paisley hippy shirt. “There’s nothing like the twang of a banjo to set the mood. The most romantic instrument in the world, I say.”

  “Uh huh.” I try to stifle my giggles. Luke arrives to sit beside me, and I grab him with relief. “Save me,” I whisper, then, louder. “I’m just going to switch with my date here.”

  “Date, eh?” The banjo-playing lothario’s face falls.

  I maneuver Luke into the seat between us. “Thank you,” I tell him, as they bring out the first course. “I thought he was about to pull out an instrument and start serenading me!”

  “No problem.” Luke seems restless. He looks around and sighs. “Any idea how long this thing is going to take?”

  “It depends how many times we have to replay things for the cameras. Longer than it should, I’m guessing. Why, are you not having fun?”

  Luke shrugs. “It’s just a lot, isn’t it? All this big spectacle, when they shouldn’t even be getting hitched at all.”

  “Shh!” I hush him, and look anxiously around in case
anyone heard. “You can’t say that!”

  “It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Luke looks at me, challenging.

  I pause. The thought has crossed my mind, but the rehearsal dinner seems like the wrong place to bring it up. What if we jinx everything? “They seem happy enough right now, don’t you think?” I dodge the question and nod to where Clyde and Pixie are chatting together.

  “Sure, if you count putting on a show for the cameras. But it’s all bullshit, isn’t it? It doesn’t mean a thing.”

  His expression is unreadable. I’m thrown. “Well, it’s too late to take it back,” I say, wanting to change the subject.

  “Not if she leaves. That’s what you said, isn’t it? She can quit any time she likes. There’s nothing easier in the world than walking away.”

  Luke’s face twists with a deeper meaning, and suddenly, I realize what’s really going on. He heard what I said to her the other day, but he thinks I was talking about me.

  Us.

  “No, Luke, that’s not what I meant—” I start to explain, but there’s a ringing noise at the head of the table. It’s Marcie, tapping a glass.

  “Luke,” I whisper, desperate to set the record straight, but Marcie sends me a glare. He turns his back to me, facing her.

  “Welcome, everyone!” Marcie says brightly. “We’re so excited you could all be here to celebrate our happy couple!” Applause. “Just a couple of ground rules to keep in mind. Remember our team are circulating with the cameras, so just relax and act natural—”

  “Yeah, baby!” One of Clyde’s band whoops.

  “But not too natural,” Marcie finishes. “We have to bleep all foul language, so let’s try and keep it to a minimum? OK! Now, without further ado, it’s time for the maid of honor and best man to make their toasts!”

  Everyone turns to look at us. “Wait, what?” I gasp. “Nobody said anything about a toast!”

  “Psst, boss!” There’s a hiss, and then Theo ducks in beside me. “I’ve got you covered,” he says, passing me a folded sheet of paper.

  Thank God. I exhale a massive breath of relief. “Remind me to give you a raise,” I whisper back, grateful.