by Lizzie Shane
“Don’t judge until you’ve tried the cannoli. You’ll think you’ve died and gone to culinary heaven.”
She smiled, a harried little grin and he thought for a second he’d been wrong, that he’d been imagining the tension between them, hyper focused on interpreting imaginary signals from her because of the show.
Their waitress, the owner’s granddaughter Carolina, came over to take their drink order. Josh ordered the house red and Sidney followed his lead, but as soon as Carolina stepped away, she began to babble, discomfort flowing off of her in waves.
“I’m sorry about earlier. You caught me off guard. I was expecting the show to send the wedding planner they have on retainer or maybe one of the producers. I should have considered that it might be you, at least for the on camera portions—”
“Actually, I’m going to be your shadow for all of it,” Josh interjected. “I’ve been around the block enough times with the show to know what their requirements are and with Miranda leaving the big bosses asked me to produce.”
“Miranda’s leaving?”
“Poached by American Dance Star. She’s still going to oversee the Wedding Special, but only until they can name another EP. After that, she’s out.”
“But she is MMP. Almost as much as you are.”
“That’s why I’m here. Because I am MMP.” Whether he wanted to be or not.
The other part of what he’d said finally made its way through her nerves. “You are going to be producing?”
“Disappointed?”
“No, I just…” She trailed off, but Sidney was nothing if not resilient and she rallied quickly. “Should we get started?” she asked, pulling a tablet from her purse. “We’ll need to move fast.”
“Can’t we at least wait until the wine arrives? We have two months.”
“Two months is a millisecond in wedding time. Caitlyn and Will should already be sending out invitations and we can’t do that until we have the venue and dates confirmed. I want to have at least three viable venue options to show Caitlyn next week and all the best places are already going to be booked for Memorial Day weekend, so I’ll be thinking outside the box this week and looking at some places that others might have overlooked. We can hope for a cancellation, but we can’t rely on that—”
“It’s Marrying Mister Perfect. When the resorts hear that won’t they magically have some cancellations to make room for us?”
“Booting another wedding off their special day to make room for us isn’t how I do things—and it isn’t how these resorts operate either. The bridal community is tight. These venues don’t want to get a reputation as being unfriendly. Besides, it’s bad wedding karma.”
“And the bridal superstitions commence.” The wine arrived and he clinked his glass against hers before sipping the delicious red. “There’s always the MMP mansions.”
Sidney choked on her wine, sputtering and glaring. “Don’t even joke about that.”
“Is it such a terrible idea? The gardens are gorgeous. I could officiate.”
“You think Will would like to get married on the spot where another man courted his fiancé?”
“Kidding.” He held up his hands in surrender. “So when do we look at these alternative venues?”
Her face flushed so red it was visible even in the low light of Mama’s. “I just assumed you’d be busy. I know your schedule must be insane.”
“During the show it is, but we’re between seasons, so I’m all yours. I’ll go with you and earmark a few places—good and bad—where we can return with a camera crew. Just think of me as your friendly stalker.” Carolina reappeared and he smiled. “Shall we order?”
*
If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be sitting in a hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant with Josh Pendleton while he explained his intention to dog her steps while she planned a celebrity wedding, she would have promptly checked them into rehab because they had to be on something.
But here she was. And here he was.
He offered to order for them both and she took him up on it, her brain no longer reserving any space for thoughts of food. Any equanimity she’d managed to gain since his bombshell at the bridal show was rapidly evaporating with his revelation that he planned to be involved day to day in a hands-on way.
Not that she would object if Josh wanted to put his hands anywhere, a sly little voice whispered in her mind.
She chalked the voice up to exhaustion and starvation, taking another sip of the wine to balance her nerves. The red was surprisingly complex—surprising mostly since the plastic tablecloths and paper placemats had not inspired confidence, but she should have known Josh wouldn’t suffer anything but the best.
The waitress retreated to put in their order and Sidney eyed her new partner over the rim of her wine glass. “Do you come here often?” she asked—and then cringed at how it sounded.
The glimmer in Josh’s eyes acknowledged the cheesy line, but he answered without teasing her about it. “More often than I should probably admit. I always liked it, but since the divorce I’ve taken to eating here a couple times a week. It’s quiet. I know no one will bother me. And the food—trust me, once you’ve tried it, you’ll understand.”
“I take it your wife was the cook.”
“Marissa could burn water. I can make ramen with the best of them, but that’s the extent of my culinary expertise,” he said, that knee-buckling grin flashing out—luckily she was sitting down. “Thank God for carry-out or we’d have starved in the first year of our marriage.”
“And Olga? She doesn’t like to cook?” she asked to remind herself that he was off the market.
He blinked, seeming startled by the question, but he rallied so quickly she found herself wondering if she’d imagined the momentary lapse. “We tend to go out more than we dine in.”
“Of course.” This was Josh Pendleton she was talking to, after all. She couldn’t expect him to spend his nights at home, cooking and watching cheesy romantic comedies—or the latest episode of Marrying Mister Perfect.
Even if he hadn’t been with Olga, their lives were miles apart. Why couldn’t she remember that when she was with him?
Tension settled again in her shoulders and thinking of something clever and neutral to say became a herculean task. “Ah… so this week… um, Caitlyn wants a beach wedding and the, uh, the resort will need to be big enough to accommodate a sizeable wedding—they’re still working on the guest list but at first count I think we’re looking at a couple hundred, and the venue will need to be someplace we can manage security. My brother does private security, so I might hire him to at least help us vet the places we’re considering, and we can hire his firm on the actual day if the show approves—”
“We have our own security, but extra is always welcome at events like this.”
“Right. Good.” She traced the checks on the tablecloth, incapable of meeting his eyes, but at least she knew what she was doing when it came to the wedding. “Caitlyn mentioned an outdoor ceremony with the reception close enough that people can walk between the two, but she also said something about a chapel, so if there was a resort with a chapel on site, that might be a good option to show her when she arrives on the weekend.” Sidney took another sip of her wine and forced herself to look at Josh. “So you can see this week I’ll mostly be running around narrowing the venue list down. There’s no need for you to join me…”
He braced his forearms on the table and she fought the impulse to look down at the taut biceps revealed by his rolled up sleeves. “Sidney, I know you know more about weddings than I ever could, but I’ve worked with MMP for a lot of years now. I know what they can make happen, what sort of things they’re likely to approve, and what will be deal-breakers for them. Use me. I’m at your disposal. I’m not going to try to do your job for you, but I am going to see different things at these venues than you see. And if the only reason you don’t want me coming with you is because you think it will be awkward because of our
history, that’s something we probably need to discuss.”
Chapter Nineteen
He wanted to discuss their history. Dear God.
The waitress arrived at that moment with her arms loaded with plates which she set in the center of the table, family style.
“Oh look! The food!” Sidney was prepared to babble about the pasta for as long as possible to avoid talking to Josh, but his voice was low and implacable when the waitress moved away and they were once again alone.
“Sidney. I don’t want things to be awkward between us for the next two months.”
“No, of course, I don’t want that either,” she said, keeping her eyes on the array of food in front of her—which did indeed smell like heaven on a plate.
“Sidney.” She made herself meet his gaze. There was nothing cynical and wry there now. It was just probing and understanding. “Do we need to talk about what happened before?” he pressed. “When you turned down Miss Right, I wondered if it had something to do with me.”
“No! Of course not!” she lied. “I just hated the cameras.”
“And now you’re back in front of them again. I know that isn’t easy for you. When they told me you were going to be the wedding planner on the televised special, I almost didn’t believe them.”
“This is different. It’s what I’m good at.” She waved her fork like a wand. “Fairy godmother.”
“And you didn’t know I was going to be part of it.”
“I admit I was surprised they picked you as the representative, but not because I’m trying to avoid you.”
“Look, the night we met I made a mistake—I’m not trying to pretend otherwise. Things shouldn’t have gone the way they did. But I like you. And I’d like us to be able to be friends.”
“Of course we’re friends.” He was off-limits on a romantic level, but she wasn’t a slave to her hormones. Just because she was attracted to him in a way that scrambled her senses didn’t mean they couldn’t be buddies. Even if he did think their one kiss had been a mistake. “You’re TV’s Josh Pendleton. Your job is to be everyone’s friend, isn’t it?” she tried to joke, but it came out awkwardly.
“Yeah. I’m everyone’s friend,” he said, but the words were sad and seemed to say something else.
She found herself remembering how he’d spoken about his celebrity. How everyone wanted to use him and no one knew him. Was Josh Pendleton lonely?
“So we’re good?” he asked.
“Yeah. Of course. I can’t wait to work with you.” She held up a fork dripping with cheese and sauce. “Now can I eat this and find out if it tastes as good as it smells?”
“Better,” he promised, reaching for the utensils to serve himself from the steaming hot plates.
And, in typical Josh Pendleton fashion, he was right.
*
“This place is perfect,” Josh declared, taking a slow turn with his hands in his pockets. “As long as Caitlyn thinks the smell of fish is romantic.”
Sidney shot Josh a glare before turning to the inn’s events manager with a soothing smile. “Ignore him. He’s a cynic who lacks vision. You said the fishery takes in a fresh catch twice a day?”
The events manager answered her questions before departing to fetch a pricing brochure, leaving Sidney and Josh alone on the rustic dock. It was a gorgeous spot, the old inn fully refurbished and tucked into a picturesque natural cove. Unfortunately, the scent that drifted over from the fishery upwind was distinctly… pungent. And the ballroom was far too small.
“You really don’t see a problem with the aroma?” Josh asked, his eyes watering from the waft of fish on the breeze.
“It is less than ideal,” she acknowledged, but wasn’t ready to completely concede. “But if we time it so the fishery is inactive… with a carpet of flower petals running down to the water to counteract the smell…”
He burst out laughing and her own lips twitched. “Always the optimist. Come on.” He took her arm and steered her toward the path from the dock up to the main building.
Planning a wedding with Josh Pendleton was turning out to be almost fun. In spite of their luck.
It was their second day of looking and the fifth place they’d seen today. Sadly, this was also the most likely contender so far. They were working their way up the coast, hitting all the resorts and hotels that had bookings available for Memorial Day weekend, but the pickings were extremely slim.
At least the company was good.
The rest of their dinner at Mama’s had been remarkably comfortable. Friendly. And ever since Josh had picked Sidney up at Once Upon a Bride the previous morning to begin vetting venues—shocking Tori into a rare moment of speechlessness—there had been an easy rapport between them.
She’d even managed not to be rattled when three of the event managers they met with assumed they were the bride and groom of the upcoming wedding. Josh had played into the misconception with a wink—which would have gotten her stupid hopes up if she hadn’t reined them in sharply with a single word: buddies.
They were buddies. And colleagues. End of story.
“Would you really plan a wedding here?” Josh asked when they reached the porch at the back of the inn, eyeing their picturesque—and aromatic—surrounds dubiously.
“If the bride wants it, you make it work. Obviously I recognize this place isn’t ideal. In a perfect world Caitlyn and Will would be married at the Paradise Resort in Eden because it’s heaven, but they’re booked solid until next Memorial Day, so I’m adapting to the circumstances. It’s what wedding planners do. We adapt.”
“Admirable. Did you always want to be a wedding planner?”
The events manager returned then with the brochures and Sidney was distracted thanking him and taking their leave. She’d figured Josh was just making conversation, so she was surprised when he said as they made their way to the parking lot where his silver convertible waited, “You never answered my question.”
“About when I knew I wanted to be a wedding planner?”
“That’s the one.” He beeped open the car locks, but still walked straight to the passenger side, opening her door for her. Always chivalrous, even when no cameras were looking, that was Josh.
“I was eight,” she admitted as she settled onto the passenger seat, setting her attaché case with all the wedding notes at her feet.
Josh rounded the hood of the sleek little car and climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’m guessing there’s a story there.” He punched a destination into the car’s GPS. The Paradise Resort.
Sidney frowned. “We can’t get the Paradise. It’s booked forever.”
“And we’ll say that during the film package, but I want our viewers to understand the constraints of planning a wedding last minute, even when you can throw around the weight of the Marrying Mister Perfect franchise. And I want to know what heaven looks like. Especially since I’m unlikely to get there the traditional way.” He winked at her and threw the car into gear, whipping out of the parking lot and zipping toward the Pacific Coast Highway and back toward Eden.
“Besides,” he added, “this way I’ll know exactly what you’re looking for in case I trip across something ideal when I’m not with you.”
She wasn’t sure she trusted the calculating glint in his eyes, but he had a point—and he knew what they needed. “To the Paradise, then.”
“Women are always telling me they want me to take them to Paradise. You’re the first one who’s been so resistant.”
She rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”
“I try.” He grinned. “Now you have—” He glanced down at the GPS. “—seventeen minutes to tell me the story of how eight-year-old Sidney Dewitt discovered she was destined to be a wedding planner.”
“I went to a wedding and the wedding planner seemed magical. That’s all.”
Josh instantly spotted the lie. “Oh, I’m sure there’s more to it than that. Whose wedding was it?”
“You know, I don’t think I ever knew. My
father was trying to clinch a deal with the father of the bride, so we were there to make a good impression. I didn’t see the romance of it. I was just bored and jealous of my brother who got out of coming too because he was away at football camp. My mother shushed me and told me to stop squirming, but when has that ever worked on a child?”
Josh didn’t answer, just gave her a listening look and she continued her story.
“I tried to bolt for the buffet table as soon as we got into the reception, but my mother sat me down and began to scold me about something—I don’t remember what—and then a miracle occurred.”
“Cake?”
“Better. My mother spotted a business associate she just had to speak to for a moment and I was supposed to be good, be quiet, and stay out of trouble at our table for just a moment while my mother rushed over to grab whatever board member was in her sights.”
“And were you good and quiet and far away from trouble?”
“Of course I was.” She grinned impishly. “For about thirty seconds. Then I saw another kid walking past with the biggest glass of grape juice I’d ever seen and the siren call of that purple deliciousness was too much to resist.”
Josh’s smile flashed out along with his real laugh—not his camera-ready chuckle.
“The bartender was a sucker for kids. He handed me a cup of grape juice full to the brim. But it was just a little too full.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yep. As soon as he turned away to help someone else, before I’d even taken a single step back to my table—fwoosh. I’m sure it wasn’t a very big spill, but I remember watching in horrified slow motion as this tsunami of grape horror rose up over the lip of the cup and descended toward the pristine whiteness of my skirt. I knew my mother was going to kill me. I was just working out the details of how I was going to die when another miracle occurred. A fairy godmother appeared.”
“The wedding planner.”
“The very one. Even now when I think about her she seems more like a magical being than a human. She was so tall, with a tight brown bun, and this little knowing smile—like nothing could ever rattle her. She took the grape juice out of my hands before I could spill more and said, ‘Don’t worry. I have just the thing for that.’ I’m sure it was club soda or stain guard or something, but at the time it seemed like magic. She reached into her purse like Mary Poppins and pulled out a spray bottle. A few squirts and the Grape Disaster began to fade before my very eyes. So of course I asked her if she was a fairy godmother.”