But the wedding planner gave Abby Ruth a suspicious once-over. “Of course I have references from my clients. However, I never share my vendor list. You won’t have to worry about any of that because I handle it all. When is the big day? I’m assuming this is a second wedding for you?”
Abby Ruth laughed. “Not my wedding. My daughter’s, and the big day is June fifteenth.”
“Have you set a budget?”
So this was how they were going to play it, huh? “Money’s no object.”
“Lots of people say that, then I find out they’re thinking twenty thousand.” She tilted her head. “Heck, you can’t plan a decent bachelorette party for that these days.”
Abby Ruth tried not to choke. What planet was this woman living on? Finally, she wheezed out, “What budget do you recommend for a wedding?”
“No less than sixty thousand.”
Holy guacamole! “Let’s make it seventy then,” Abby Ruth said without so much as a quiver.
With interest gleaming in her eyes, Elisabeth waved them to follow her. Her assistant rushed ahead and moved the curtain to the side, revealing a meeting room set up just behind the giant video wall. Back here, the table was simple but elegant, and a chandelier hung over it. Maggie eyed the electrical work.
“Let’s see.” The woman’s pink-and-white French manicure glinted under the bright fluorescent lights as she flipped through a shiny silver-bound book with fancy calendar pages in it—each full of handwriting that looked like calligraphy.
“Yes, I’m available then. We’ll have to get busy though. Just a year to plan. That’s tight.”
“Not really,” Abby Ruth said.
“Not really?” Her laugh was a pompous puff of air. “Oh, yes, I see what you’re saying. It will be me that will be busy. No worries, though. I have the perfect team to help me. What are you thinking? Simple? Extraordinary?”
“I want the works,” Abby Ruth said. “Everything and all your best vendors.”
The woman’s eyes sparkled with greed. “I do love a woman who knows what she wants. My assistant will take your deposit before you leave today, but let’s go ahead and set up a date to chat about the particulars. Shall we meet next month? Maybe the twentieth at two?”
“That won’t work at all. The wedding is the fifteenth.”
“You mean June fifteenth of this year?”
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t possibly do that.” Elisabeth sniffed and slapped the calendar closed. “I’m highly sought after. People hire me years in advance. We can’t help you.”
“Why not? I thought you had the perfect team.” Abby Ruth enjoyed challenging this woman.
Her nostrils flared. “You clearly are not my kind of client.”
Lil and Maggie backed against the wall as if worried Abby Ruth might throw a punch at the woman if she dared say no. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. “Money is no object. Surely you can fit us in.”
The woman pushed her fancy book to the side and stood. “Even if I wanted to take your job, I’m already double-booked for that day. Honey is taking care of the other wedding.” Elisabeth’s jaw pulsed. “Something I’ve never done before.”
The young assistant blushed.
“And all my vendors are booked. You might try the Knights of Columbus or Moose Lodge folks. They’re probably more what you’re looking for.”
“No,” Abby Ruth said, feeling the hot rush of blood run up her neckline to her ears. “That wouldn’t do at all.”
She did a little Texas two-step to the right to block the woman’s escape, and just as she’d hoped, Miss Snooty dodged her and peeked around the video wall. “I have another guest so I’ll have to ask you and your friends to step out.”
“Shoot,” Abby Ruth said. “I think I dropped my pen. If you’ll give me a sec to find it, we’ll be on our way.” On our way to taking over one of your June fifteenth weddings for my daughter.
The wedding planner stepped out to greet her next sucker…er…client, and Abby Ruth stage-whispered to Maggie, “Flip through that book and find out who’s getting married on the fifteenth.”
Maggie gave her the okay sign, and Abby Ruth hovered in the entryway to the meeting area to block Miss Snooty’s view.
A moment later Maggie and Lil whisked past Abby Ruth, and the wedding planner turned to see Abby Ruth standing there. “You’re still here,” she chided.
“I wanted to leave my number. Should anything open up, please call me. I had my heart set on you orchestrating this wedding for us.” Abby Ruth held her cool and sashayed out of the booth, disappearing into the thick of the crowd.
Maggie and Lil were waiting for her at the end of aisle R.
“Did you get the couples’ names?” she asked Maggie.
“Sure did, both the one Elisabeth is planning and the one Honey is handling.”
“Perfect!”
“I Googled them.” Maggie beamed with pride. “And I found both brides on Facebook.”
“Great work. Let’s contact the bride for the wedding the assistant is coordinating. I have a feeling she’ll be a lot easier to handle.”
“And less likely to get your boot in her butt,” Maggie said with a chuckle.
“True.”
“I bet they’re here,” Lil mused, turning a circle as if she could take in the entire conference center and spot the bride with her X-ray vision.
“The bride-to-be’s name from the wedding Honey is handling is Hannah Huckleberry. I sent her a friend request and look—” Maggie flipped her phone around, “—she already accepted me!”
Huckleberry? No wonder the girl was getting married.
Think, think, think. What will entice a couple who’s obviously into this wedding crap to ditch the big hoopla and cancel their date?
Something niggled at the back of her brain, something about Red.
Aha! Got it!
Abby Ruth grabbed the phone from Maggie and typed in a private message to the bride. You’ve just won an exclusive all-inclusive beach wedding and honeymoon getaway from the G Team. Message back that you’re interested, then meet the woman in the bright green outfit at the center of aisle R.
She quickly outlined her plan to Lil and Maggie. And it didn’t take sixty seconds for Maggie’s phone to blow up with a stream of excited responses from Miss Hannah Huckleberry. “They’re on their way!”
A moment later, a young lady came barreling down aisle R with a muscled guy who looked as if he’d spent his share of hours on a football field or in the gym. Perfect. “Are…are you the G Team?”
“Yes, dear—”
“Congratulations,” Abby Ruth rolled right over Lil’s chitchat. They needed to get down to business. “You were chosen from thousands of bridal couples.”
“I never win anything! I mean we don’t. My goodness, this is so exciting. Isn’t it, Brandon?”
Brandon stood there with his mouth half-open like he wanted to say something but was afraid. She felt for him. This place was about to suck the life out of her too.
“But everything is already planned,” he said. “We have people traveling in from out of town.” He turned a shrewd stare in Abby Ruth’s direction. “Is this some kind of scam?”
Kid was smarter than he looked, but she had no intention of scamming them. Red would just have to loan her his condo for a week. No big deal. He’d do anything for her.
Lil nudged Abby Ruth, and she rolled on with the details—condo with an ocean view, a private luau for two, bodysurfing lessons, and more.
“It sounds so perfect.” Hannah bounced with excitement.
“You have to commit now,” Lil added. “Or we pick another lucky attendee.”
“I don’t know what to do. We have the cake, the caterer, the photographer, the DJ, the works!” Hannah’s gaze darted around the convention center. She bit down on her lip, then turned to her fiancé, but Brandon’s head-shake said he wasn’t about to get into the middle of it. “Why couldn’t this have happened before we paid al
l those deposits?”
“We’ll handle the wedding planner and any additional cancellation fees.” C’mon, you two. Stop waffling and say yes!
“I don’t know,” the bride said. “Oh, gosh, what do we do? My parents would be so disappointed.”
“Not really,” the groom said. “Your dad tried to get me to take money instead of the big shindig, remember? You were the one who wanted the whole fairytale wedding.”
“You think we should get married in Hawaii?”
“Surfing over a stuffy dinner and dancing? Sure do. Can we get married on the beach?” he asked Abby Ruth.
“At sunset if you like.”
The young girl grabbed her fiancé’s arm. “Did you hear that?”
“I did.”
“And I can get you a private tour of Aloha Stadium while you’re there. You know, where the Pro Bowl is played,” she tossed in to sweeten the pot.
“I’m in.” He spun back to his bride-to-be. “I mean, if it’s what you want.”
“You’re right. Dad’s been trying to talk us into running off anyway, so we’ll blame him!” She smiled at Abby Ruth. “We are so in.”
“Great. Then we’ll need some information from you.” Abby Ruth held out her hand, and like a mind reader Maggie slapped a small spiral notebook and a carpenter’s pencil into her palm. Prepared friends were invaluable.
Then she led the young couple to a table behind a row of empty booths. She quickly collected information about the wedding, documenting it all in Maggie’s notebook.
Abby Ruth shook hands with the couple and congratulated them again. She handed them a G Team business card. “Hang on to that. We’ll drop off your prize package within the week. Remember to keep this under wraps.”
“Thank you so much.”
“Best wishes. And aloha!”
“Aloha,” the young couple sang out as they walked arm in arm straight out of the conference center.
“You’re a genius. We can hire E-lite Wedding Planning now,” Lil said.
“Like hell. I wouldn’t hire that woman if she didn’t cost a dime.” She waved the list of Brandon and Hannah’s wedding details in the air. “I have a better idea.”
“Why does that always worry me?” Lil asked.
“Wait right here.”
Maggie and Lil settled on a white bench next to one of the huge pillars in the convention center.
Abby Ruth squared her shoulders and headed back to booth R-1800.
As she rounded the corner to the wedding planner’s booth, she spotted Elisabeth with an S being escorted off by a good-looking man in a three-piece suit.
Things are falling into place.
As soon as they made it through the front hall doors, Abby Ruth forged her attack on Honey. “Excuse me, may I have a word with you?”
Honey turned, recognizing her immediately. “I’m so sorry Elisabeth couldn’t work y’all in. I know what it feels like to not get what you want for your wedding. In fact, that’s why I’m working with Elisabeth. So I can have the wedding of my dreams.”
“Really?” Abby Ruth put on her listening ears. She had no idea what her plan would be, but somehow she needed to commandeer the Hannah and Brandon wedding and use it to her advantage.
“Oh, yes. She plans dream weddings.”
“She’s a piece of work. How did a nice young lady like you end up working for someone like that? She must be paying you one heckuva salary.”
Honey’s cheeks reddened. “She’s not paying me at all.”
Keep it zipped, Abby Ruth. Let her spill the story. There’s a loophole here somewhere.
“She said if I worked by her side for two years that she would consider reducing her fees for me.”
Abby Ruth choked. “Two years of helping at these shows?”
“No. Helping with every wedding, event, and meeting. I don’t have the means to afford her fees any other way.”
Aha. Willing to think outside the box to get what she wanted. This Honey was Abby Ruth’s kinda gal. “If you could help me with one little thing, Elisabeth wouldn’t have to know, and I think we could both come out better for it.”
Honey bit down on her lip and glanced in both directions, then motioned toward the meeting room behind the curtain. “Maybe we should chat.”
Twenty minutes later Abby Ruth was cruising down the R aisle feeling as if things were finally going her way. Now if Lil and Maggie had just stayed put, they could get the heck out of here. Finally, the crowd thinned and she saw them sitting on a bench with sampler plates all around.
“We were beginning to wonder if you were coming back,” Maggie said lifting a plate of hors d’oeuvres. “Here. Try some.”
Abby Ruth helped herself to a fried mushroom.
“You didn’t get into a scuffle with that wedding planner, did you?” Lil’s brows pulled together.
“No ma’am. Quite the opposite. We have a deal with Honey. I mentioned to her that we happened to know Hannah and Brandon and had recently heard they won a big wedding trip to Hawaii.”
“Why would you do that?” Maggie asked.
“Because that poor girl is working like an indentured servant for Elisabeth to possibly give her a discount on her own wedding. But I mentioned if she would be willing to simply transfer the vendors over to the wedding we’re hosting and keep the switch out of Elisabeth’s fancy scheduling book, we’d pay Honey to take care of the change and wouldn’t breathe a word to Elisabeth. The idea of extra jingle in her pocket perked Miss Honey right on up. And…”
“And what?”
“I might’ve mentioned the possibility of her using Red’s condo for her honeymoon.”
“I wonder how Red will feel about you turning his condo into a time share,” Lil said.
“I’ll handle him,” Abby Ruth said.
“I’m sure you will.” Lil exchanged a smile with Maggie, who responded with, “I think he might be very happy to have you indebted to him.”
“Stop, you two. This is in the name of justice, and I do believe our investigation has just kicked into high gear.”
Chapter Thirteen
Red stood in front of Jenny, speechless. Seconds ticked off, turning into minutes, as he avoided her stare and fiddled with the change in his pockets. It was the first time she’d ever seen him look anything less than a self-assured pro athlete.
He reached for her hand. “Jenny, you have to understand—”
She jerked away. “I don’t have to understand anything. For some reason, you and my mom thought it was best for me not to know my father. And you’ve been right here for months. It’s not like you didn’t have a chance to tell me.” She stepped away from him, needing more space to keep herself from lashing out at him physically. “My whole life has been one big lie.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” His voice softened.
“Dramatic? You don’t get to say that.” Even if she hadn’t been pregnant and overwhelmed, she had every right to be upset. “You cheated me out of a family.”
“Your mom was—”
She shushed him. Nothing he could say right now would turn down the static in her head or disperse the red haze in her brain. “I need you to do one thing for me.”
“Anything,” he said without a second of hesitation. Probably because of the guilt he felt.
“I need you to take Grayson home for me. There’s a pan of baked spaghetti in the fridge. You can pop that in the oven and both have dinner.”
“Are we okay? What are you planning to do?”
She didn’t know what the chain of events would be, and she really didn’t know if they’d ever be okay, but she knew exactly how the evening would end. With one helluva come-to-Jesus meeting between her and her mother.
Four hours later, she was waiting in a rocking chair, the motion making her queasy. The porch was littered with an empty bag of peanut M&Ms, a few Slim Jim wrappers—her mom was sure to fume over that—and an empty half-gallon of butter pecan ice cream. She’d wa
nted a glass of nerve-calming wine, but that wasn’t an option right now, so she’d had to settle for fat and sugar to dull the pain.
And now she was paying for it all. She covered her stomach with her hands as if she could calm it through force of will.
Like she’d had any control over that part of her body since she and Teague had—
An arc of light cut across the front of Summer Haven, slicing through the summer twilight, and her gut cramped. They were home. “Please, everyone,” she said to her midsection, “just stay in your seats until this plane has safely landed, okay? I really need to get through this conversation without yakking on my mom’s boots.”
The baby and the ice cream seemed to listen to her, both settling back into their proper places.
When her mom, Maggie, and Lil all climbed out of the truck, they were smiling but moving slowly as if they’d had a very full day. Lil glanced up and must’ve caught sight of Jenny rocking on the porch. “Jenny, you should’ve been at the wedding show—so many pretty things. Balloons, harps, and—”
“And a bunch of birdseed holders,” her mom cut in. “Do you really want people chucking birdseed at you?”
They hesitated on the steps, their gazes darting from the greasy bags, the ice cream tub lying drunkenly on its side, and the inside-out wrapper with a single piece of green candy clinging to it—dammit, she’d wanted that last M&M.
“Are you sick?” Maggie hurried toward her, holding out her hand in that age-old let-me-check-you-for-fever gesture.
Jenny shook her head hard enough that it made the ice cream reconsider a trip back to the top of the pipe. But she knew what had them concerned. Her red-rimmed eyes, lank hair, and clammy cheeks.
She breathed through the nausea and croaked out, “Sick doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling right now. Could you and Lil please go inside? I need to talk with my mother.”
“But, dear,” Lil protested, “you really look like you’re running a fever.”
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