“I don’t know what your problem is Donna, but discussing my personal relationship with my client, or any other client for that matter, is highly unprofessional. I know you told Stacey that I’m seeing Alex because she told me when she tried to get me to get North Point for her. It would seem that was at your suggestion too.”
I don’t give her a chance to deny or respond because I’m not finished. For once I’ve learned how to argue like a lawyer, and talk until I’m done. “Whatever bug you have up your butt I suggest you pull it out or learn to live with it. You’re not in that office because your lack of professionalism is stopping you from being a great consultant. Don’t blame me. Don’t blame Paul or Megan or Casey or anybody else. Blame yourself. Get over it and move on. Maybe one day you’ll earn the right to sit in there.”
I wait to see what she has to say. For once she doesn’t seem to have anything to say. Her eyes are fixed on me and her mouth is hanging open. I decide that I got my point across.
I turn to find Megan, Paul, Casey and a rather angry looking Shelly standing at the door. I know I wasn’t yelling. I’m absolutely sure of that.
“I saw the line of consultants and assistants following you and I wanted to know what the hell was going on now.”
Shelly has now shocked the entire group of onlookers because they seem more floored that Shelly Pratt has just cursed. I have heard her curse, so this in no way shocks me. I’m guessing they have probably heard it too, but it’s been so long that they have forgotten that she can, and will, curse when she wants to.
“Donna, did you tell Anise’s client of her intimate relationship with Mr. Covington?”
“It might have slipped,” Donna says this so sheepishly that most people would probably feel sorry for her. I don’t feel sorry for her because I know it didn’t just slip.
“You weren’t even to be talking to Anise’s client let alone divulging such information. That’s not a part of our lives that we let clients see. Is that understood?”
“Yes.”
“That goes for all of you.” She turns, and I realize the crowd gathered at Donna’s office door is bigger than I thought.
“Donna I don’t have to tell you how disappointed in you I am.” She pauses for emphasis. I’m sure it’s not needed. Donna certainly must be feeling smaller by the second. “It’s this type of childish behavior that kept you out of the lead consultant position. I had hoped you would learn and grow up, but I’m seeing that you aren’t doing either. There is no room for vindictive backstabbing at Tiffany’s, and it’s time I clean up.”
I realize that she means it’s time she take back Tiffany Weddings, and keep a tighter reign on her consultants. I agree actually. Things have been going haywire lately.
“Anybody who steals a client from another consultant, spread rumors, lies or truths, about a consultant to a client will be fired. No second chances. Is that understood?”
I hear emphatic yes’s coming from the crowd and then I notice that Shelly’s looking back in my direction so I agree as well.
“Not you dear.”
I realize that somehow I have lined up with Donna in Shelly’s line of sight.
“Yes.” Her voice is soft, unlike her usual vociferous mannerism.
“Good. Now that we have that clear you owe Anise an apology for being uncouth.”
Wow, now I’m scared of Shelly.
“I’m sorry Anise.”
Shelly looks at her and then at me, and I’m wondering if she wants me to apologize too. I’m trying to think if I’ve done anything to Donna that merits apology, other than a few not so nice thoughts that is.
“I should have been more professional and spreading your personal business was not my place. I am sorry.” She says this, and I realize Shelly’s look prompted this attempt at a heartfelt apology. I don’t buy it, but I’ll meet her half way.
“Apology accepted.”
I’m not ashamed of my relationship with Alex. If I thought it were appropriate I’d probably shout it from the rooftops, but having a client blindside me with that, in front of somebody else, was just humiliating. Maybe more so because the implication was if I’m sleeping with him then I should get what I want, and that makes me sound like a prostitute.
It’s not until I step out into the hall that I notice most of the consultants are standing out there listening. Paul pats me on the shoulder, and gives me a smile as if to tell me I’ve finally staked my claim as lead consultant. Megan gives me a quick thumb up. I see several other staff members smiling at me and winking, as if I’ve just accomplished something they’ve been trying to do for years. I put Donna in her place. If we’re lucky Shelly has managed to de-fork her pitchfork and we can all work a little easier now.
I walk back to my office with about fifteen minutes to spare before I need to leave for lunch. I figure I’ll get a little work done on Evelyn’s final preparations before I go. That idea is short lived. Megan is already plopped down onto my couch.
“Nobody other than Paul has been able to tell Donna off and walk away unscathed.”
I hadn’t realized she and Paul had been on the outs so I ask, and of course, I receive the answers I want. I think gossiping is about as contagious as the flu or the common cold.
“Oh yes, he told her off when she tried to steal one of his clients. Actually she had almost succeeded, but he got his client back. He told her off, and she’s been kind of nice to him ever since. Nobody has ever humiliated her in front of the entire office before though. Definitely not in front of Shelly.”
I wasn’t going for humiliation. I just wanted her to know things had to change. I’m going to be here at Tiffany’s for a long time, and I’d rather that be a pleasant long time than one filled with paranoia and worry.
“Not many people can stand up to Donna. You are definitely an amazing woman.” And with that she pulled herself off my couch and went back to her normal office duties.
I figured the Donna and Paul dispute must have been before most of the present consultants came onboard. Nobody seemed to remember it except Megan, and as far as assistants went, she had been there the longest. Six years I think which is about the same as Paul, but Donna has been here for only five years. I guess she came in wanting to take over.
I had wondered why Paul hadn’t been promoted to lead consultant. Though now I realize he has about the same amount of clients as a lead, he works hard, but putting Paul in the lead position would be opening Tiffany’s up to an entirely new stock of lawsuits. He can’t keep his highly inappropriate comments to himself long enough to hold a decent conversation with any of the pretty female staff. I couldn’t imagine if he had the power to hire and fire too. It would be like Playboy meets Dynasty.
I managed to get one thing sorted for the upcoming Chase affair. I rechecked the guest count with the caterer. Everything seemed to be set, so I put my computer on lock mode and left for my lunch with Tay.
I’m almost sure I’ll be eating humble pie if I mention the incident of being locked outside naked so I don’t mention it. I just slide a key over to her.
“I was wondering when you’d forgive me and give me a copy.” She says this as if she knows I waited because I was still angry.
“Well you’re my best friend and I don’t mind if you have a key.”
“I get it.” She laughs.
“I gave your card to an artist today,” I know how much she really hates surprise phone calls from aspiring artist. “I haven’t seen his work, but I have a feeling he might be good. He shoots artistic nudes and he might be calling you.” She nods as if it’s okay. She jots his name down on a napkin and stuffs it in her purse. Tay may seem disorganized, but she’s not. I know that as soon as she gets in the car she’ll transfer his name into her memo book.
“Brendon is making my life hell.” She perks up now that I’ve moved past the small talk. Tay is a sucker for any type of drama. I tell her about Alex and Brendon, and the episodes I’ve been having with the two of them. I tell her about
Brendon’s kiss and for a moment her eyes widen, then she sits back, so I continue on until I have blabbed everything except for the naked incident.
“But I guess that’s life. Just when you’re coasting along at a normal speed life slaps you in the face and tells you that there are no unauthorized changes allowed.” She nods in agreement. We both know a thing or two about unplanned events happening at the wrong time in our lives.
“That man is an asshole. You’ll get nothing from him but shit.”
I laugh at Tay’s ability to think on her feet.
“I’m serious Anise. Don’t you dare let him sucker you in this time.”
“And give up great sex, a really loving man and the potential for a wonderful future as a married woman? I think not.”
“Well I didn’t think you were stupid, but I felt the need to give you my advice anyway.”
Tay’s advice was more like an order, but it’s okay. She’s Tay, and I know at some point in our past I have ordered her around too.
There are Men, There are Women and Then There are Brides…
Alex spent the night again. I’m starting to think he spends more time at my place than he does his own. Despite his presence in my bed I managed to get up, shower and make it to the ceremony site on time. I had everything moving along smoothly, and then my bride walked down the stairs.
She looked amazing. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. It complimented the strapless, ivory wedding dress nicely. She had a magnificent strand of pearls softly embellishing her neck. She was simply classic.
The traditional wedding march played as she took to the steps. Somehow, when they say step by step I think they mean to take those steps with one’s feet, not their behind. Her heal got caught on her dress and she slipped and slid down from the second from the top step to the bottom. It could have been worse. She could have rolled.
Audible gasp permeated the hall. I didn’t have time to stand there looking shocked. I ignore the gasping sounds and I casually walk over to Evelyn. I help her up. First I make sure her dress isn’t ripped in any places. I check to see if she’s okay and she is so I say, “Smile”. For once she listens to me without hesitation, and she smiles. “Now wave it off as if you’re fine,” and not humiliated. She waves it off. “Now give a faint laugh, and take your bouquet from my hand.” I have to say this through gritted teeth. I still have a smile on my face so the others won’t know I’m coaching her.
“Now walk down the aisle.” I step out of the way so she can finish her walk to the alter. I notice she still has her head held high, which is good considering what just happened.
There is serious irony here. When it comes to categories, there are men, there are women and then there are brides. The one thing my at home course hadn’t prepared me for was the onslaught of emotion, especially the yelling and screaming stage. I used to defend women when guys would complain about how crazy their wives were right before the wedding. After all we all have our moments of insanity.
Out of all the major blowouts thus far, each one of them has been strictly the brides doing. The men seem to sit back and take it. I guess that says something for their intelligence because there is no way anybody wants to step between a bride and the perfect rehearsal.
There was an unspoken fear between the bridesmaids. I could sense this fear last night. When I first walked in the room the women seemed to be huddled in their corner—without Evelyn. I had dealt with Evelyn, so I had an idea of how “my way or the highway” she could be, but this feeling of sheer panic was something new. The flower girl appeared to be walking as if she were on a thin layer of ice. Whenever it was her turn to walk down the aisle and pretend to throw the flowers she would give her mother a look that pleaded for help. Her mom would merely smile and wave her down the aisle.
I would have attributed little Lindy’s fear to nerves, but the first bridesmaid to walk down the aisle nearly stumbled on her evening dress, and Evelyn had a screaming match that would have scared a Marine.
“If I wanted klutzy I would have asked my sister to be here,” she had said. She hadn’t stopped there. She went on about how slow they were walking, how fast the flower girl had been walking and how stiff all the guys looked while standing in front of the alter. I calmed her down a little, but even a consultant’s powers fail when it comes to an angry, uptight bride.
I’m sure Felicity, the unfortunate catalyst to last night’s yelling, is probably holding back laughter right now. The good thing is that these women will most likely go back to being the best of friends once this evening is over. I’m sure of this because there are men, there are women and then there are brides. Once the wedding is over, and all hormones return to their pre-bridal luster, the bride goes back to being a woman.
Nobody want’s to be that bride—the one that falls down the stairs, spills a little pre-wedding wine on her dress, has lipstick on her teeth or gets left at the alter. Well, three out of four isn’t bad. At least I hope that is how she will see it. I also hope she will be able to make it through the ceremony without bursting into tears. I know she is embarrassed. I also know she’s stubborn, and there’s no way she wants anybody else to see that she is utterly humiliated.
I watch the ceremony from the back as usual. Somehow this wedding takes me back to when I first got married. I don’t know why. I’ve been to weddings since the divorce. I should be past the nostalgic feel. Obviously I’m not. I think back to the day my mom helped me dress. Tay gave me the last minute advice about newlywed life. The dress needed a last minute alteration, and we used clothes pins to pull it together. This time, when I see myself walking down the aisle I see Alex waiting for me.
This wedding is an event for the books. My bride takes to the stairs like a baby on ice skates and the photographer has to be told to move the paper from blocking the lens. At least I’m not at fault for either of these problems. I told Evelyn to hire a professional instead of her cousin, who just happens to be in his second year as an art major at the community college. I also have no control over a bride falling. I would like to state for the record that I am fully dissolved of all liability here.
For all that Evelyn has put me through she deserves a beautiful memory. When I find her in the lady’s room crying I immediately start to think of what I can do to make this better.
I touch her shoulder because I’m not sure what to say actually.
“I can’t believe I fell.”
“Honey trust me, nobody is thinking about that right now.” There goes lie number one. “I’m sure of that because I have been walking the room all evening and several women raved about how beautiful you looked.” That is the truth. I heard some envious chatter too, but I leave that part out. “The men were saying how sexy that slinky dress looks on you.” Her slender, red tinted lips part and she’s showing pearly whites now.
“See at the end of the day people remember how gorgeous you look and how happy you are. How wonderful the two of you danced, and how great the food is. It’s not about one moment Evelyn; it’s about all of them. And right now you’re missing some of the best ones.”
I gently dab a handkerchief at her eyes.
“You’re right, it is.” She says this in her usual I’m ready to take on the world tone and I know that I have her right where I need her to be.
“Well,” I extend my hand realizing I’m treating her like a little child, but I can’t help it. “You should get back out there.” She smiles again, and I know she’ll be fine.
“Anise, you’re the best bridal consultant ever.” I smile and thank her. “I mean it. You put up with me.”
Compared to Allison, she’s a walk through the park.
“You didn’t get me North Point, but this is better. Thank you for not walking out on us. A few others have. Tiffany Weddings was kind of our last stop. It should have been our only stop.” She smiles again and pulls me in for a hug.
These are the moments that make my job seem worthwhile. I fight back a tear myself, and then I smile. �
�You’re one of my better brides,” she looks at me with a hint of disbelief visible in her eyes. “Seriously, you kept me on my toes. I normally don’t discuss my personal life with clients, but I think that because of your North Point dreams I met the man I was meant to be with.”
“He was so checking you out while we were looking here.” She giggled. “I guess we both have our reasons for loving each other.” She hugs me again. Love was a tad strong.
“Get back out there and dazzle your guest.” She laughs and then practically floats out the door. I follow behind making sure no running kids step on her dress or spill their drinks.
I stay until the reception is over. I make sure caters are happy, the rental hall staff doesn’t have much to clean and that every guest is either sober enough to drive home or tucked into a cab. I step outside and see Alex sitting on the hood of my car—that would be my new BMW convertible I just bought at a really good price. It’s used actually, but it’s new for me. I could kick his behind all over the street if he has one scratch on my creamy navy-blue car. He smiles as if he knows what I’m thinking.
“I thought I’d ride with you.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“I know. I missed you. You’re not going home, and I thought I’d ride with you.”
“I’m going home.”
“No you’re not. You have a date.” He tells me that he had the driver drop him off so he could take me on this date that I knew nothing about. He rarely used the driver. He usually saved that for the big spenders that came to his resort.
“Honey I’m tired.”
“I know. That’s why you have a date. You have the rest of tonight and tomorrow to relax. I’m taking you to the best place in the Valley for a little R&R.”
The Bride Wore Black Page 10