by Melissa West
“How was school?” I asked as I took his book bag and set it on the bar then went around to make him a snack.
“Good, except Zoe and Lily kept arguing over who was going to be the flower girl, which seemed pretty stupid to me. Mrs. Blake eventually put them in opposite corners of the classroom and said she’d call their moms if it continued.”
“Little good that’d do,” Scarlett murmured. “It’s the moms starting that fight.”
True enough.
In my twenty-five years in Cricket Creek, I’d been to plenty of weddings, but none of them held a candle to the upcoming Brockton wedding, and everyone in town wanted to be a part of it.
“Rumor has it Mary Beth hired some fancy wedding planner from New York to manage the whole thing. Said she’d be arriving this weekend to get everything going. You ready to have your place infiltrated?”
I sighed, and once again wondered why I’d agreed to let Mary Beth have the wedding out back. Lindy—her daughter, the bride—had guilted me with that sad, “my dad won’t be here to see it, and he loved this place so much” nonsense. So I relented and had the dock and gazebo stained and hired someone to clean up the bank by the water. And until now, I hadn’t heard much of anything about the details of the wedding, but with it just a few weeks away, I had a feeling that would all change. “What does ‘everything’ involve exactly? I don’t get the fuss. It’s a man and a woman and a kiss, with a bunch of people around as witnesses. Get some barbeque, a decent cake from Shirley’s, and call it a day.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “And women in town wonder why you’re single.”
“That’s my trick, see. Glad it’s working.” I winked at her as she walked off, and I then put the Brockton wedding and the craze it’d brought to the Creek, and soon my business, out of my mind.
“Homework?” I asked, focusing back on Jonah.
He laid out his assignment for the day, and we dove in, but my thoughts went back to Grace and how someone from her city would be coming to my town. I wondered if there was any chance the wedding planner would know her, or if I’d even ask. But I knew I wouldn’t. And besides, there were millions of people in New York. There was a greater chance that I’d get struck by lightning than that the wedding planner would know Grace. Still…a man could hope.
Chapter Seven
Grace
I stepped out of my apartment building and slipped on a pair of sunglasses to shade my eyes from the already bright sun. And, okay, because I didn’t want to be spotted by anyone I might know. With reluctance, I’d agreed to meet Lauren and Cameron at a café a few blocks from my building, so it didn’t make sense to call a driver. Assuming one of my parents’ drivers would still come get me, but then they probably wouldn’t, and I’d have to walk anyway, which was fine because—
Deep breath.
Following my own instructions, I inhaled slowly and exhaled slowly, then glanced down at my phone, the number already keyed in. Now I just needed to find the courage to tap the call button.
It was only a phone call. One tiny call, with a person. A woman, who could very well be a lot like me, and we’d hit it off immediately, and she’d say sure, I’d love to offer you a job making a hundred thousand dollars. Here you go!
Right, so the one hundred thousand dollars thing might be a stretch, but the rest could happen. Totally and completely happen. If I could just make the damn call.
I continued on down the sidewalk, my thoughts inward. And this side of freaking out.
Last night, I’d left my parents determined to do whatever necessary to get the job with Perfectly Wedded, but half a day later, I still hadn’t mustered the courage to call. Fear of yet another rejection hung over me like a dark cloud, ready to wreak havoc on my already fragile ego. But enough was enough.
I stared down at my cell, the number already dialed in and ready to change my life, but every time I went to hit the call button, I froze up, doubt crashing back over me.
In truth, what did I know about wedding planning? Nothing. Less than nothing. But Margo had been right about one thing—I’d loved working on the weddings we’d had at the Met. Those were some of my favorite events to plan, and here was my opportunity to do that for a living, every day different and fun. Still…maybe my parents were more right and this wasn’t really a career so much as a hobby or something, but plenty of people made careers out of their hobbies. Baseball players, for example. They made a killing doing what they loved. Oh! And those craft people on Etsy! See, plenty of people. So why not me?
Because my name was Grace Soaring, and I had a high-level corporate position being handed to me on a silver platter, with an insane salary, an even more insane bonus plan, and perks out the yang.
“I must be an idiot.”
“Sorry?”
My eyes went wide as they snapped back to the phone and shit! Shit, shit, shit! During my psychobabble, I must have hit call, and now…oh no. Oh, God. Do I hang up or speak or pretend it’s the wrong number? But if I called back, she’d see it was me calling. Crap—she might be able to see right now.
“Hello?”
With a quick breath that did nothing at all, I lifted the phone to my ear and forced a smile to my face, until I realized she couldn’t see me, and I was officially the stupidest person on the planet. “Hello?”
“Yes, this is Annalise Barker.”
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
Okay, deep breath. You can do this.
“Ms. Barker, this is Grace Soaring. Margo Campbell gave me your contact information.”
“Grace, yes. I was hoping you would call.”
A grin took over my face, relief beginning to set in. “It’s very nice to talk with you.”
“Oh, if you are half as good as Margo promised, then the pleasure is all mine. I was actually hoping to catch you today. I understand that you’ve assisted with several weddings at the Met over the last few years?”
“I have. They have been some of my favorite events to plan.”
I could hear the smile in her voice. “That’s what I like to hear. Weddings are a special occasion. So few events remain in our minds forever, but for that man and woman, we are setting the tone for the rest of their lives, cementing a moment into their memory. It’s no small thing.”
“You make it sound like a dream job.”
“Well, for me it is. I guess the question is whether or not it will be for you. I have a wedding next Saturday, and if you are interested, I would love for you to shadow me. See what it’s all about. See if this career feels like a good fit for you, and if you feel like a good fit for Perfectly. What do you think?”
The rope around my heart loosened, a bit of hope breaking free. “I think that sounds amazing.” I paused outside the café, eager to finish the conversation before I met up with Lauren and Cameron.
“Wonderful! The wedding is at the Plaza at six, but we’ll be setting up early, of course. Why don’t you come by around two?”
“Two is perfect. Absolutely perfect.” I beamed, so excited and relieved. I needed this win. For the first time in my life, everything was uncertain, and this tiny win meant the difference between me staying sane or gorging myself on carbs.
We hung up, and before I could help it, I squealed loudly, causing the poor waitress outside to jump and spill her pitcher of water down her shirt. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry.” I tried to find something to help, but she just looked annoyed as she disappeared back inside.
Oh, well. I could handle an angry waitress, but I couldn’t handle not having a job or any money. Maybe that wouldn’t happen now.
“Arriving with a bang, I see.”
I glanced to the right to find Lauren already seated at one of the small tables outside, a huge grin on her face.
“I know. Poor thing. I got a little too excited.” I leaned in to hug her and then sat down. I opened my mouth to blurt out that I had a job, only to realize that I didn’t really have a job yet, and Cameron wasn’t here—the positive side to th
e Lauren-Cameron magnetic duo of friends. Lauren had a tendency to spew negativity at anything remotely against her natural way of thinking, and that was the last thing I needed.
“Are you okay?” Lauren asked. “How did things go with your parents?”
I’d called the girls as soon as I left the Met, unable to keep my tears at bay, so they knew about my layoff and my fears over what my parents would say. “As expected. No, scratch that. Worse than expected. They cut me off.” I glanced around for Cameron and spotted her walking toward us, but not before Lauren found her voice again.
“Wow, didn’t see that coming. I’m sorry. But really, it’s not the end of the world. I mean, you’re not one of those kids in Africa without water or something, right? You’ll find another job,” she said, her black sunglasses hiding her eyes. She made it all sound so easy. “Just hire a headhunter. That’s what normal people do, Grace.”
I gritted my teeth together at the slight condescension in her tone, sure I could hold it in, but then I blurted, “Why do you always look like you’re Marilyn Monroe about to seduce JFK?”
Lauren waggled her finger at me. “Don’t turn that sass on me, young lady. I didn’t take away your favorite Amex.”
A pang of sadness hit in my chest, and I slumped in my bistro chair. No more Louboutins. No more trips to the spa just to receive a massage. “It’s fine. I don’t need it.” But even I could hear the doubt in my voice.
Cameron rushed up then, her expression creased with pity as though she’d heard me, but she didn’t address me as she spoke. She addressed Lauren. “How is she? One best, ten worst.”
“Twenty.”
She released a quick breath. “No.” Her blue eyes fell on me, the picture of worry, and I almost stomped my heel in aggravation. But then, that was silly and child-like, and I’d have to pull out my adult card to work my way through this one.
“You’ll find a new job, Grace. And then you live on a budget. We all do it. It’s okay.”
“Right, a budget. I can do that.” I bit my lip and then my pinkie nail, chipping the paint. “Shit.”
Several West Side uppities glanced my way, but for once I didn’t care about etiquette.
“Grace, honey, it’s money, nothing more,” Cameron said, her tone softer than Lauren’s.
Easy for you to say, I thought, and instantly felt horrible for thinking it.
Cameron had been left a small fortune after her father died. She’d invested in a percentage of her fiancé Aidan’s advertising firm, and when it took off, so did Cameron’s bank account. Though the queen of frugal refused to touch a penny of it.
She sighed. “But what about the wedding planner thing? Have you called them yet?”
I sat up straight. “I completely forgot! That’s what I started to tell you before Ms. Super Negative here started in on me.” Lauren opened her mouth, and I threw up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say, and I know that you’re probably right, but right now, I need you to be my friend, okay? Just save the ‘I told you so’ or whatever for later. Right now, I need my friend.”
Lauren pressed her hand to her heart and bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep my opinions to myself.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“So, you were saying?”
“Oh, right. I spoke with Annalise from Perfectly Wedded. I’m going to shadow a wedding with her next Saturday, and if it works out, then I have a job.”
Cameron clapped her hands. “That’s great!”
“It is, right?” I took a drink from the water the waitress brought me—not surprisingly, a different waitress from the one I’d surprised earlier. I was just about to tell them how romantic and amazing Annalise made the job sound, when I caught Lauren’s expression.
Lauren quickly glanced away, and I waved for her to speak. “Go on, say it.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Just say it. I know it’s killing you.”
“Well…I was just curious what the pay is. Do you think…I mean, I’m not trying to be negative, honest…but do you think the pay is less than you made at the Met?”
“I hope not or I’ll never be able to afford my apartment now that my parents cut me off.”
“What?” Cameron looked as though I’d just told her the moon would no longer shine. And maybe without an Amex card, it wouldn’t. I’d never been this poor before. Still, people survived solely on their incomes all the time. I would figure this out. I had to.
“Yeah. Rick Soaring said I could either join the family business or he’d cut me off.”
“That’s horrible. What did you say?”
“I said I couldn’t work there, that it was my life.”
Silence fell over the table. Nothing could silence a crowd like losing millions of dollars. But in truth, the money was never mine to begin with. It was my parents’, and I was an adult. As hard as this would be, it was time I figure out how to be an adult. A real adult.
The waitress took our orders, then disappeared back inside.
“Maybe if you save?” Cameron asked.
“It’s impossible. Rent in my building is nearly eight thousand a month.”
At that, Lauren spewed her raspberry tea across the table, and Cameron’s mouth fell open.
“Wow, who can afford that kind of rent?”
“People like me,” I said, growing defensive. “It was my parents’ before they bought the brownstone, so they let me stay. Besides, that was nothing to me.”
The waitress brought out our sandwiches, and we focused on eating, each deep in thought. “Do you really think your dad will kick you out of your apartment?” Cameron asked around a bite. “That’s so cruel.”
“That’s Rick Soaring.”
“So, then, you’ll move?”
Lauren shot up in her chair. “Oh! I know! We could have a garage sale.”
I stared at her in confusion. “A garage sale?”
“Well, an apartment sale in your case. Put up flyers or something for some of your things. Your Birkin collection alone would cover your rent for a long time.”
My heart sank. “Yeah…maybe,” I said, though the truth was I’d rather give up the apartment than my things.
“What about a second job?”
“I kind of need a first job before I can worry about a second, don’t you think?” My gaze lifted back to Lauren, who was obviously fighting to keep her true opinions to herself. I knew she was trying to help me see that while this was horrible, sob-worthy, and horrible some more, it wasn’t death. I didn’t live in some danger zone in Afghanistan. Or in an area without healthy water in Africa.
I was just losing everything I’d ever known. No big deal.
“Ah, honey, don’t cry.”
The embarrassment of it hit me, all the things people in my circle would say.
Cameron rubbed my arm. “You’re too strong to let this break you. Remember that. You’re amazing, and it has nothing to do with your money.”
My watery gaze met hers. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely. It doesn’t define you. And getting a new job and moving isn’t the end of the world.”
I thought about my options, my expenses. “No, it isn’t. But even if I sold some of my things, that would only cover me for a while. I still can’t afford an apartment like mine on a single salary.”
“What about your inheritance?” Lauren asked.
I laughed. “I’m supposed to get it when I turn twenty-five, but I’d be shocked if my dad honored it after this. There’s probably a clause in it—join Soaring or die.”
“Have you talked to your dad today?”
“No, and I don’t plan to. It’s my life, not his.”
“You’re right,” Cameron said. “But he’s still your father.”
I nodded. “Yet that’s never been enough for him.” She reached for my hand, and I tried to keep my bottom lip from trembling. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to show him that I don’t need him or his money.”
“That’s right,” Lauren said, taking my other hand. “You’re going to be the best wedding planner on the planet.”
“I am!” I said. “You know…as soon as I figure out exactly what they do.”
We all laughed, and then Cameron turned to me, an excited expression on her face. “Oh, I almost forgot—what happened with that bartender guy? We were so wrapped up in…” She frowned. “Well, you know…that I didn’t think to ask you.”
I thought back to Thursday night, how perfect every moment had been, only to wake up alone as though it had all been a dream. Then again, maybe it had.
“Nothing. Nothing worth talking about, anyway.”
“But he went home with you, right?” Lauren pressed.
“He walked me home…” I stared into the street, lost as to why I couldn’t tell my two best friends that he’d left. No note. No good-bye. But with being fired and then getting cut off by my father, they were already looking at me like a sad puppy at the animal shelter that no one wanted to take home. I couldn’t tell them that it had been one of the best nights of my life, or that it had clearly meant nothing to him.
“So that’s it? He walked you home and then left? Nothing happened?”
My gaze swung back to my friends, the picture of control, while my insides prickled at the memory, the hurt. “Nothing happened.”
“Oh well,” Cameron said as she took another bite of her sandwich. “You’ll probably never see him again.”
“Right…” And though I knew Cameron was right, I couldn’t help wishing that I could see him. Just once more. If only to prove to myself that it wasn’t all a figment of my imagination.
…
I made my way toward the Plaza at the intersection of Central Park and Fifth Avenue at one thirty the next Saturday, eager to meet Annalise and prove to her that I would be the best wedding planner in existence. I would listen and learn and do whatever I had to do to get this job. Forget the fact that I’d only assisted on a handful of weddings and knew little about the process. Small, inconsequential detail.
So I squared my shoulders and went inside New York’s most famous hotel, following the various signs to the Kemp/Walsh wedding, the names Annalise had texted me that morning. I had planned events, and I had taste—impeccable taste. But it wasn’t until I glanced though the French Doors of the Plaza’s Palm Court, into the Terrace Room, that I realized I would need a lot more than taste to work for Annalise. She wasn’t merely talented. She was a magician.