Planning on Prince Charming

by Lizzie Shane

  “Hey, Harry. Did you get that morality clause revised?”

  “No, but we don’t have to worry about that anymore. The show’s been canceled.”

  Josh froze, an oily mess of déjà vu called up by the words. “That isn’t funny.”

  “Believe me, I know,” Harry grumbled. “The network has decided to use the time slot for one of those dark scripted dramas that are so trendy right now. Something political and edgy that will get people screaming at one another on Twitter.”

  “But I thought our ratings have never been better.” The feeling was familiar—solid ground sliding out from beneath his feet, but it felt different this time than when Brainiac had been cancelled. Like a graze of panic rather than a direct hit.

  “Reality shows like MMP are blowing up on cable, but the network thinks a wrongful imprisonment drama is going to get them more viewers. There’s a chance Marrying Mister Perfect might get picked up by Bravo or OWN, but they’re going to be doing a stripped down version—less exotic travel and they aren’t going to have the budget to pay your salary. They’ll bring in a younger, cheaper host unless you’re willing to take a huge pay cut.”

  Josh cursed.

  “Hey, don’t worry,” Harry said. “This is a temporary setback. How do you feel about Dancing with the Stars?”

  “Hosting?”

  “No, they love Tom. But can you dance?”

  “No.”

  “That’s okay. They teach you.”

  “Harry, I’m not going on Dancing With The Stars.”

  “Don’t decide anything right now. Just think about it,” Harry insisted. “We need to keep you current and get something else lined up before the entire town knows MMP is going to basic cable.”

  “How big a pay cut are we talking if I stay with the show?”

  “Let’s not go there yet. Stay positive, Josh. They’re still planning to air the Wedding Special when they need to fill a slot. Be grateful for that.”

  But as Josh signed off and disconnected the call, there was only one thing he was grateful for—no more morality clauses. He could date whoever the hell he wanted.

  He waited for the dread and what-the-hell-do-I do-now panic to hit like it had last time his show had been cancelled, but instead all he felt as he replayed the conversation again in his mind was a subtle whisper of relief.

  It was over. That chapter of his life was closed. And for once he wasn’t freaking out about that.

  He needed to find Sidney.

  He moved quickly back to the rehearsal dinner to find that the party was winding down—and a familiar figure with long blonde hair was nowhere in sight. He did bump into the bride—who was surrounded by her bridesmaids and giggling just as enthusiastically as the heavy drinkers even though she hadn’t had a drop thanks to the baby.

  “Have you seen Sidney?” he asked.

  “I’m pretty sure she went home,” Caitlyn told him. “Big day tomorrow!” The bridesmaids—most of whom he recognized as the groom’s sisters—cheered.

  He thanked Caitlyn, swearing internally. He could go to Sidney’s apartment—it wasn’t far—but he wasn’t sure how well that would go over. And he knew how important this wedding was to her. He didn’t want to throw her off her game.

  But if he could just see her, just get the damn words out—

  “Hey Josh.”

  He turned back to the blushing bride, who was no longer surrounded by a horde of bridesmaids.

  “Are you in love with her?” the redhead asked, gazing up at him calmly—as if she hadn’t just asked him the biggest question of his entire freaking life.

  “Yes.”

  And for the first time, he admitted—to himself, to Caitlyn, to the world—that it was true.

  Caitlyn smiled. “Good.”

  She turned to head into the house and he called after her, “That’s it?”

  Caitlyn turned back. “Does there need to be more?”

  “I guess not.”

  She grinned. “Good answer. Now try not to screw it up.”

  She vanished inside.

  But he’d already screwed it up. And he didn’t have the words to put it right again. Not tonight.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The wedding was perfection. Even when Will got so choked up he stumbled over his vows. Or perhaps especially then. Sidney had sniffled sentimentally along with the rest of the guests as the groom struggled for words.

  Josh had been the ideal officiate—but she shouldn’t have been surprised by that. He excelled at setting the perfect tone of weighty importance and celebratory joy.

  Sidney had managed to avoid him all through the afternoon wedding and well into the evening reception—grateful that her job kept her busy. Nothing was going wrong, but there were always dozens of micro-issues which could snowball into disasters if they weren’t caught and managed before they could explode. So she stayed on top of them, making sure Will and Caitlyn had nothing to worry about but one another and how euphoric they were.

  Sidney ducked inside the house, retreating from the glow of the fairy lights that illuminated the patio now that the sun had set and into the quasi-dark of the house—kept dim enough to discourage the party from spilling inside but still bright enough that none of the guests crashed into walls on their way to the restrooms.

  “Hey, Max.” She approached the form of her brother, lurking in one of the shadows provided by the low lighting as he watched over the party. “Have any of your guys seen Elena? She looked upset when she was talking to Daniel earlier and now she’s missing.”

  “She didn’t come this way, but maybe someone else saw her.” Max took a moment to murmur over his comms with the rest of his team while Sidney fidgeted.

  When Caitlyn had said she was inviting Daniel, Sidney had been surprised, but Josh had been supportive of the idea of including the former Mister Perfect—and Caitlyn’s former fiancé—in the festivities. He’d said it would give the tabloids fewer opportunities to make up stories about bad blood and MMP feuds. Caitlyn had just wanted Daniel there because she saw him as an integral bump in her road to love, so Sidney had swallowed her reservations.

  But now that Daniel was drunk and making an ass of himself with all the other Suitorette guests, she was wishing she’d been a little firmer when she aired her concerns. Daniel had even cornered her at one point, asking if there was still a chance for them to reclaim what they had lost—as if there had ever been anything to lose. She could only imagine what he was saying to Samantha and Elena—the last two girls he had dumped before proposing to Caitlyn.

  Samantha had looked annoyed, but it was Elena—tough as nails and sexy as sin Elena—who had looked distraught after speaking with Daniel. Elena who never shied away from making a scene—not that Sidney expected her to do so at Caitlyn’s wedding, but she’d feel better if she knew where the tempestuous Latina was hiding.

  “Dylan saw her head through the side door and upstairs a few minutes ago,” Max reported. “You want me to have him check up on her?”

  “Do you mind? I’ll feel better if I know where she is, but I don’t want to compromise your security.”

  “It would take more than that to compromise our security,” Max said, sounding slightly offended. “I’ll have Dylan take a look and let you know if anything’s wrong.”

  “Thanks.”

  She stepped back out onto the patio—and nearly ran into a tall figure in a dark suit. Josh.

  “Sidney. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Oh?” she feigned nonchalance. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a second to spare. In fact, right now, I really should be—” Her mind went blank. A blackboard totally erased of all excuses. “Um…”

  “Dance with me?”

  “No, the cake. I need to check on the cake—”

  “The one we already ate?”

  “Leftovers. Make sure everyone got enough. Freeze the top tier for Caitlyn and Will’s first anniversary. A wedding planner’s job is never done.”
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br />   “Everything is perfect. You can take five minutes to dance with me.”

  “In public? Doesn’t that violate your morality clause?”

  “Not anymore. The network is dropping MMP.”

  “You’re joking.” Shock ricocheted through her system. “But it’s so popular.”

  “Not compared to scripted crime dramas, apparently. The show might be picked up for basic cable, but either way I’m out.”

  “Oh Josh. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not sure I am.”

  “What?” she asked, in the height of eloquence.

  “I’m still figuring out what I want to do next, but right now I just want to dance with you. Please, Sidney? After I choked yesterday, I went home and wrote a whole speech. Rehearsed it in front of the mirror for hours and I really think it has more impact if we’re dancing.”

  “You wrote a speech?”

  “Sort of a romantic manifesto. Though maybe it’s better if I deliver it here. No bells and whistles. No big, dramatic Marrying Mister Perfect staging.”

  “A manifesto?” she repeated dazedly.

  “You said your piece yesterday. Now it’s my turn.”

  She swallowed nervously, trying to smother the tendrils of hope that tried to twine around her heart. He just wanted the same closure she’d gotten. That was all this was. “That seems fair.”

  He nodded. “Right. So I guess here it is.” He took her hands and his were clammy. She noticed the sweat beading his brow. No smooth TV host here. He was more nervous than she’d ever seen him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “The night we met, you promised not to fall in love with me—”

  “You remember that?”

  “I remember everything about you, but don’t interrupt.”

  “Sorry.”

  He nodded. “The night we met, you promised not to fall in love with me, but you never promised not to make me fall in love with you.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Oh.”

  “I know you said you won’t believe me if I say it now, but I have to. Because it’s true. I love you. And I am scared—scared shitless—but not for the reasons you think. I was a bad husband—I didn’t love her like I should have. I was great at the big romantic MMP bullshit, the greeting card, social-media version of love, but I sucked at the day to day business of being there for someone—and I don’t want to screw it up with you. Because you know me in a way no one else does. You see through my bullshit and you still love me anyway. Or you did, before I screwed it up.”

  “Can I say something?”

  “There’s more.”

  “We were never about big romantic gestures,” she told him. “House hunting and wedding planning and cooking dinner at home or sharing Mama’s cannoli—those aren’t big MMP moments. That was just us. The question is whether that’s what you want. That regular, non-glamorous life.”

  “I cover that in my speech.”

  “Then by all means, continue.”

  He nodded, resuming his rehearsed speech. “I thought I had the picture perfect marriage before, but it was all surface and no substance. I’m not looking for the picture perfect life anymore, but I don’t know how to be anything else. I’m not sure I can be the kind of husband you deserve, but you make me feel like I’m not pretending. Like I’m not an actor playing at being Josh Pendleton. I want to be real with you. And you make me want to be what you need. You said, that first night we met, that you want to believe in love. So believe in mine. Where’s that crazy optimist who hid in my room that first night? Because I know she’s still in there. Please let her believe in us.”

  She caught her lip between her teeth, her own nerves spiking with a surge of hope and uncertainty. “Are you sure this is what you want, Josh?”

  “Sidney, I want you. However I can have you.”

  Her heart galloped.

  “I want us,” he continued. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I want to figure out the next step with you. And someday—though it still scares the shit out of me to say it—I want you to be the one I come home to every night. I want kids. I want cheesy vacations at Disney World. And I want to be a television host who knows how to go home and be a real person. Because none of it will mean anything without you. So what do you want, Sidney?”

  A year ago she would have said a spread in The Veil magazine and Mister Perfect—but that was the picture perfect life Josh had been talking about. She’d been just as seduced by it as he was, in her own way. And now… what did she really want?

  “I want to keep planning weddings, giving every bride her dream—even if it isn’t always high profile or glamorous. I want to stop counting my failures and successes and just enjoy where I am in the moment. I want to look in the mirror and be proud of who I am now without any bitterness about how the world sees me. And I want…”

  “Yes?”

  She met brown eyes as rich and warm as chocolate. “I want you.”

  “So I didn’t screw everything up already?”

  “Can you repeat that thing you said before?”

  “The whole speech?”

  “No, just the part I said I wouldn’t believe.”

  He grinned, perfect white teeth flashing. “I love you.”

  She’d told herself that it took more than love, that she needed more than a feeling, that she would never let her heart overrule her head. But… “That was a pretty good speech.” She hooked a finger in his lapel.

  “I practiced it.” He looked down at her, brown eyes intent—his nerves shining through his debonair shell. “So what do you say, Sidney? Will you take a chance on me?”

  She pulled his mouth down to hers, brushing it with a kiss. “I think I’ll take that dance now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The cans Will’s sisters had tied to the back of the limo rattled off into the night as it carried Caitlyn and Will off to their honeymoon. Josh tucked Sidney tighter against his side as they turned and headed back into the mansion with the remaining guests. The reception was winding down, but there were still a few die hards on the dance floor.

  It was strange, his life had never been more up in the air, the future such a complete unknown, but he’d also never felt so settled and so right as he did just swaying on the dance floor with Sidney, enjoying each moment and waiting to see what the next would hold.

  He’d been caught up in making life happen in the last decade and it had gotten him where he wanted to go, but it wasn’t until he got there that he was left to wonder if the journey had been any fun. He may not know what his destination was with Sidney, but he was going to enjoy every second of the journey. And maybe the destination would turn out to be the one he’d thought he wanted all along. Or maybe not. Only time would tell.

  He bent his head close to her ear. “Do you need to stick around to supervise clean up or can we take off?”

  “I have a crew coming in the morning to clean up. We can call it a night.”

  “Thank God,” he groaned, not bothering to hide his relief. He hadn’t had Sidney alone in far longer than he wanted to think about. “Did you valet your car?”

  “Max gave me a lift. I’ll just grab my bag and text him that I have a ride home and we can get out of here.”

  She tugged him toward the small room where the staff had stored their belongings, but before they got two feet a strident voice stopped them.

  “Josh Pendleton. I hear you’re unemployed.”

  He turned toward Miranda, surprised to find her dressed in a flowing scarlet dress with her arm around Bennett Lang—the King of Reality Television. It looked like they were definitely on again.

  Josh joined Miranda and Bennett as Sidney slipped away to grab her things. “You know this business,” he said with a shrug.

  “I do,” Miranda agreed, her signature note of arrogance touching the words. “Which is why I think they’re morons for not keeping you attached to the MMP brand when they move to a new network. But their loss is my gain.”

  “
Are you looking for a new host of American Dance Star?”

  “Actually, lately I’ve been toying with an idea for a new show. Ah, Sidney. Good. This concerns you too,” Miranda said as Sidney joined them. She waved to the patio where the last of the wedding celebration was winding down. “All this was fabulous. How would you feel about doing it again?”

  Sidney frowned, confused. “That is my job. I plan weddings.”

  “I meant on television. I’ve seen the footage from the wedding special. You two are dynamic together. And a happily-ever-after every week would certainly fit right into both of your brands. I was thinking sort of an Extreme Makeover: Wedding Edition, where you swoop in to give deserving brides the wedding of their dreams. Cancer survivors. Military vets. Real feel good stuff. Everyday Cinderellas and the wedding fairy godmother. We could even call it Once Upon a Bride.”

  Sidney blinked. “Are you serious?”

  Josh knew Miranda too well to ask that. “You already have a network interested, don’t you?”

  “We’re still working out the details.” Miranda glanced toward Bennett Lang. “Just think about it. We can talk more on Monday.”

  Having dropped her bombshell, Miranda and Bennett retreated in a cloud of importance. Sidney and Josh walked in silence toward where he’d parked his car—having claimed one of the few driveway spaces not occupied by the bridal party.

  “We don’t have to do it,” Josh said, dying to know what was going on in her head as he opened the passenger door of his convertible for her. “I know you weren’t comfortable in front of the cameras and you never wanted to be famous—”

  “It’s different with you,” she interrupted, climbing in. “I never felt like I had to hide from the cameras when you were there. I could just be me. And this wouldn’t be Mister Perfect. I could be the fairy godmother.” He rounded the hood and when he slid behind the wheel, she smiled at him. “You do make a good wedding planner.”