by Cindi Madsen
The urge to tell her I’d rather pay for her cab fare than take her myself was strong, but I took one of those deep, cleansing breaths that were all the rage, telling myself this was progress. “Of course.”
She’d actually been almost decent to me, but it was her statement “I want to win it” that scared me. It felt like more of a challenge. Bitchy Phoebe I could deal with—even control my temper around, thanks in part to anger management classes. But vulnerable Phoebe freaked me the hell out.
As we headed to my car, I said, “I didn’t just find another guy, you know. Like I said in my column, I was hurt when Grant stood me up at the altar. I was planning on waiting to date, but when a good guy comes into your life, you thank your lucky stars, not tell him he has to wait. And we’ve been friends for a long time, too, so it’s not like he’s just some guy I barely met.”
“So is it serious, then? Is he the one?”
Alarms screeched in my head. Regardless of her fragile state, I had to be careful. While just the thought of Brendan was enough to cause ecstatic happiness to tumble through me, I didn’t want him reading that I was talking about us like we were super serious and having him feel the need to run in the other direction. If only I hadn’t agreed so enthusiastically with his stance against relationships that night at the theater, I wouldn’t be so afraid for him to find out how hard I was already falling for him.
Me and my big mouth.
We got into my car, and Phoebe turned to me, clearly expecting a response. “He’s the one for right now,” I slowly answered, measuring every word.
The ride passed in silence, only the music from the radio filling the air. When we got to her house, Phoebe started out of the car, and then abruptly turned around. “Thank you, Dakota.” She gave me an almost-smile and then closed the door.
I stared after her as she climbed the stairs to her condo, feeling a bit like I’d just made a deal with the devil, and wondering if I’d accidentally signed away something I wanted to keep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
GET READY TO WED by Dakota Halifax
Playing With Fire
Candles seem to be all the rage these days. And why not? Candles have been linked with romance for centuries. You know what’s the opposite of romantic, though? Seeing your wedding go up in flames. If you choose this route (the candles, not the up-in-flames part), keep a close watch and have plenty of water and fire extinguishers. Also, think about things like curling irons left on, irons you used on your dress or tux, and any other item that might start a potential fire. For fireworks, which are also a big hit at weddings, you’ll need to look into the legality of lighting them off. Sometimes it’s a no-go, and sometimes a send-off with sparklers is a nice, low-key, and low-cost option.
Fires are dangerous, and I’d like you to remember that there are other options, such as battery-operated candles and white lights. No matter what you decide, though, you still need to be prepared. Wedding rule number one—I know, I make every rule number one, but who can keep track of all of them and, honestly, whatever’s going wrong in the moment feels like number one. So, ahem, Rule Number One: if it can go wrong, it probably will, so being prepared will make the entire day run smoothly. I’d like to give a shout-out to our local firefighters, who’ve saved me several times with their quick responses.
As for a different kind of playing with fire, I’d like to give a not-so-honorable mention to being stupid at bachelor and bachelorette parties. Do you really think a room full of semi-wasted people can keep a secret? Really? Well, spoiler alert, they can’t. That whole “what happens here, stays here” motto has made some of us a bit overly confident in our indiscretions. So I’m here to break the devastating news that it’s a Vegas urban legend, and what happens at those parties can—and often does—follow you around like the Ghost of Strip Clubs Past.
Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want your significant other to see, hear about, or do. It’s been the demise of several cute and loving couples, and it could happen to you. It must not have been meant to be, you might argue, but if you ask me, it’s just playing with fire. You don’t send a drug addict to pick up your prescriptions, so don’t put yourself in a situation you can’t handle, especially while inebriated. A fleeting moment of debauchery while your friends egg you on isn’t worth ruining your future with someone who loves you. So be smart or you might just end up burned.
…
“It’s fitting that she wants three hundred and sixteen candles,” Jillian said, “because her bridesmaids’ dresses look very Sixteen Candles.” She lifted the frothy pink ruffled dress that I’d draped over a bench. It’d taken some extra fabric, innovation, and a lot of swearing from a tailor and me, but hopefully the dress would fit the now-pregnant bridesmaid. Why she’d waited three days before the ceremony to see if it still fit—only to discover it didn’t zip up all the way anymore—I had no idea. Apparently it was all part of trying to keep the first part of her pregnancy secret, although she’d spilled the beans to her friends a few weeks ago.
“Sixteen Candles was Kara’s inspiration, actually,” I said. “We even duplicated a floral headpiece from the movie for her flower girl.”
Since Jillian was all set on the catering end, I’d roped her into helping me place candles around the front of the chapel. It should’ve been done yesterday, but the monogramed candles got held up in Saint George, Utah. All three hundred and sixteen of them, one for each day Kara and Jack were together before he popped the question. So I’d left at six in the morning, driven to Saint George, and buzzed back here. All kinds of fun, let me tell you. This wedding was hell-bent on falling apart, just like I was hell-bent on not letting it.
All I’ve got to do is make it to tonight. Brendan was supposed to be done basically babysitting his VIP clients tonight, and I couldn’t wait to curl up on the couch with him. Or, if either of us had the energy, maybe do something that required less clothing and more cardio.
I pictured us cuddling, how we’d exchange details about our days and listen if either one of us needed to vent. There’d be a few jokes in the mix, then his eyes would darken and he’d flash me the seductive smile I couldn’t resist. My pulse skittered as I thought of undoing the buttons he hadn’t gotten to yet, and the way his hands would grip my thighs and pull me closer, and an intoxicating mix of desire and affection flooded my veins.
The crunch of tires on gravel pulled me out of the pleasant scene going on in my head. Doors slammed, and then words carried in on the wind, snippets here and there about getting ready and asking if anyone knew where Elise was. Elise was the pregnant bridesmaid, so I made a mental note to find her if they hadn’t in the next few minutes.
Kara came into the chapel, blond hair in rollers, wearing yoga pants and a tank top with the word BRIDE across the chest in rhinestones. She scanned the candles that’d besieged the floor. “You got them! Oh, thank you so much!” The exuberant hug she attacked me with caused me to stumble and knock over a few of the candles near my feet. “I always wanted candles. It’s just like I pictured when I was a little girl!”
A moment ago, I’d been inwardly grumbling about impossible demands, three hours’ worth of driving, and an exact number of candles. But with Kara hugging me, the wonder in her voice, I got that tingly fairy-godmother-granting-wishes sensation. My hope had been slowly working its way back to fighting shape, but I worried I’d never get that excitement for another one of my brides. I was glad it’d shown up for Kara. She’d loved Sixteen Candles as a little girl, and she said that Jack was the type of guy she never thought she’d get. He adored her, in addition to being quite wealthy, and said she could have whatever wedding she wanted. She’d chosen low-key in a chapel, her biggest demand candles. And when her bridesmaid had announced she was expecting at Kara’s bridal shower, something I’d seen brides fly off the handle for, Kara had cried tears of joy for her friend.
She pulled back, her eyes glistening. “Can you believe I’m getting married today? For a while there, it se
emed like it’d never actually get here.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I said, genuinely meaning it. The rest of her family and bridesmaids came into the chapel, all except the mother-to-be.
“Still no Elise?” Kara asked her maid of honor, who shook her head.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’ll try to get a hold of her. You go start getting ready.”
“Okay. Apparently she spent most of the morning puking—morning sickness. Said she thought it’d be gone by the time we got here. Last I heard she was going to be about ten minutes late, but she’s not answering her phone.” Thanks to the dress debacle, I had all of her numbers, not to mention her address if it came down to it.
Raquel came in, her boxes of hair supplies in hand. I waved at her. “You guys are all set up for hair in the back room. I’ll get the 411 on Elise and let you know what’s going on. Don’t worry.” I gave Kara a reassuring squeeze, along with a smile to match. “Everything’s going to be perfect.”
…
One hour later, I wasn’t so sure it was going to be perfect. Every time a guest came into the chapel, a gust of wind would extinguish several candles. I’d already singed the hair on my arms, along with the hem of my skirt, while reaching and stepping over the sea of lit wicks. It was why I’d suggested battery-powered over open flame, but I could tell from the crestfallen look on Kara’s face that she’d wanted the real thing. So I tiptoed through the burning maze once more, lit the smoking candles again, and hoped no more guests would arrive.
Then there was the fact that Elise was three shades of green and hadn’t stopped puking since she’d arrived. The dress fit though, so…yay?
Jillian had made up ginger tea and Elise was sipping it, hands wrapped around the cup like it was her lifeline. I figured a church was a good place to pray for it all to go off without a hitch. Or you know, without anyone getting puked on.
The mother of the bride strode up to me, her features tight, and a knot formed in my gut. It was an expression that said something’s gone horribly wrong—the grim look on her face said runaway bride, but Kara wasn’t the type, so that couldn’t be it.
“Do you smell smoke? I think I smell smoke.”
After lighting all the candles, I felt like I’d never not smell smoke, but now that she mentioned it, it did seem to be stronger. I glanced across the sea of candles but didn’t see any telltale swirls.
“I think it’s coming from the hallway where the groomsmen got ready,” Dianne said, putting her hand on my arm as she glanced in that direction.
The groomsmen were outside—I’d okayed them to get fresh air but not to go far, because I’m bossy like that at weddings. Instead of asking more questions, I scooped up an extinguisher and rushed toward the west wing.
When I got to the door of the guys’ makeshift dressing room, smoke was barreling out from under the door in forbidding dark plumes. I lightly tapped my fingers on the doorknob to test it—scalding hot. I wanted to charge in and use the extinguisher, but I knew a hot doorknob could mean backdrafts and who knew what else. Enough that I knew better, that was for sure.
“Call 911,” I said to Dianne, who’d followed me. “Tell them to send the fire trucks.”
…
“Cigarette fire,” Larry told me when he, Antonio, and the other two firemen came out of the chapel. “Lots of smoke, not much flame.”
“Thank goodness,” I said. Then I glanced at the wedding guests, all dressed up and waiting on the lawn as the sun dipped low in the sky, making the clouds purple and pink with a few orange stripes of sunlight still trying to fight through the impending dark. The bride was around back so that the groom wouldn’t see her, although they’d been on the phone most of the time, checking in on each other. I’d already been a fan of Jack, but he won me over even more when he’d reassured Kara that no matter what, they’d find a way to get married because he couldn’t wait to call her his wife.
The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint him or Kara. “How’s the smoke in the chapel?”
“Not bad. It’s safe if you want to continue with the wedding.”
“I’ll double-check, but I think it’ll be a go.”
Larry slapped me on the back, teammate style as usual. “You know, the boys down at the station are starting to make bets on when you’ll need us next.”
Stellar. Just add “fire hazard” to my public profile. “Well then, how about you save me the trouble of having to call again and just stick around, because my bride wants three hundred and sixteen lit candles, and she’s getting them. I could use a little standby assurance besides my extinguishers, though.”
His gray mustache twitched in a way I was pretty sure meant he was smiling underneath it. “Anything for you.”
“Thanks, Larry. And tell the rest of the boys I appreciate them, too. You all are gonna get wedding cake at the station. Like, till you’re sick of it.”
I confirmed with Kara that she wanted the show to go on, and when she said she did, I ran around the hazy part of the chapel throwing open the windows. I even found a fan to help blow the smoke out of the window in the room where the fire had been. Within thirty minutes, everyone was reseated, the candles were relit—thanks to extra help from Larry and Antonio—and the “Wedding March” was filling the air.
I quickly fluffed out the train of Kara’s dress so it’d be fully displayed as she walked down the aisle, but not so full it’d catch any candles, then left her to her father.
The muscles in my neck ached, the pain radiating down to my shoulder blades, and my feet were sore from all the extra running around in heels. Giving myself a quick shake to keep myself going, I squeezed into the narrow gap between the wall and the seats so I could head up front and keep an eye on everything.
Even under the veil, I could see Kara’s brilliant smile as she came down the aisle. If it’d been most any other bride, she’d be flustered or possibly even blaming me. Instead, she wore the dreamlike expression of someone who was more concerned with the love she had for her groom than anything else in the world.
My hope bank filled up just a little higher, and I found myself wrapping my fingers around my phone, wanting to call Brendan and tell him how much he meant to me. Only I worried that was the wedding buzz in the air talking and that I needed to press on the brakes before I scared him.
I’ve gotta go slower this time. I considered the plans I’d had earlier tonight, and thought maybe I should slow those down, too.
No, I definitely was ready for that next step. Right? Crap, now I’m messing myself up again, making problems that aren’t there.
I shook my head. Just focus on the love, focus on the love. Jack and Kara faced each other in front of the preacher, both wide-eyed and wearing grins like they couldn’t believe their luck. I was so wrapped up in it, I almost missed it—one of the candles was shooting its flame several inches higher than the rest. It licked at the ribbon on Elise’s bouquet, taking a taste and looking like it wanted more. I waved, trying to get her attention—on the bright side, her skin was back to her normal color and she didn’t look like she was going to hurl—but she was focused on Kara and Jack as well, unmoved by my subtle gesture.
Can this wedding please just give me a break already? There was no way to completely hide myself, but I figured being seen was better than having a second fire. People might start to talk about hellfire and the union being unsanctioned or something, and that was not happening on my watch.
I sneaked behind Elise and nudged up the arms holding the bouquet, whispering, “Hold it higher. It’s hitting one of the candles.”
Her eyes widened and then she nodded, holding it even higher than needed.
The vows ended, the bride and groom kissed, and I did an internal happy dance celebrating the lack of fire hoses for the ceremony. But then the flower girl kicked over a candle on her way down the aisle. One of the groomsmen stepped forward with a canister in hand, extinguished it with a burst, and the entire place cheered.
On his way past me, he held up a hand for a high five, and I smacked it. Then I nodded at Larry and Antonio to let them know we were clear on this end. Once all the guests were out of the chapel, my local friendly firefighters helped me make sure the candles were all out.
“Till next time,” Larry said.
I gave the candles one last glance. “Kinda hoping there won’t be one.”
“Like I said, till next time.” Larry gave me another hard slap on the back and then I hauled butt over to the reception hall to make sure everything there was going off as planned, and with any luck, fire free.
…
As I walked around Kara and Jack’s reception, I couldn’t help wondering if I was playing with fire jumping into a relationship so quickly after the demise of my last, and if I was going to get burned. It was like seeing Jack and Kara gave me enough of my love hope back to start worrying that when it came down to it, Brendan’s goals in life weren’t the same as mine.
Way, way in the future—that’s what he’d said about even the possibility of marriage. Did that mean someday he’d suddenly want it? Grant told me the reason he hadn’t shown up was because he wasn’t ready, and he hadn’t been against it from the start. I didn’t need a promise of forever right now, but I didn’t want to be the only one in the relationship thinking about a future together.
As much as I was trying to completely forgive my ex, I hated that he’d shaken my faith in my judgment and my trust in other people. It was bad enough to have my faith in love ripped away. Why’d he have to take more?
I stopped, trying to change my line of thought. It wasn’t fair to take my issues out on Brendan, but it didn’t mean I shouldn’t be careful. Where was the careful line, though, and how did fun for now fit into it?
There I go, jumping in too fast again, the way I always do. More than anything, I wanted to be able to say it didn’t matter if we ever defined our relationship, but the control freak in me liked things defined.