“Hi, Cole, this is Vivienne Shuster from Estelle’s Events.”
“Oh, hey. Why are you calling me from a different—”
“I’m here with Estelle and we have you on speaker.”
Cole cleared his throat. “What can I do for you ladies?”
“This is Estelle speaking.” Her boss’s voice was deeper and raspier, and since she was yelling directly into the desk phone, it was also louder than Vivienne’s. She rolled her eyes at the unnecessary introduction, but Estelle continued. “I wanted to know when your fiancée is going to be coming into the office to sign the contract.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line before Cole finally spoke up. “Well, you see, ma’am, my fiancée lives in Billings and she doesn’t get much time off from her job.”
“What does she do again for work?” Estelle asked, leading him down a path that might prove to be too slippery.
“She’s a model.”
“In Billings?” Her boss looked doubtful.
“Yep. Definitely in Billings. There’s a big demand over there for ads with feed companies and horse shows. You know, that sort of thing.” The lies rolled off the man’s tongue so easily, Vivienne began to wonder if he’d carefully prepared his answers or if he actually believed everything he was saying.
“Billings, you say?” Or maybe Estelle wasn’t all there mentally, because the man had said the city’s name twice already. Then Vivienne saw the gleam in her boss’s eye and her blood went from cold to frozen when Estelle covered the speaker and whispered, “She might have more model friends. That’s a much bigger market for us to get into.”
Vivienne wanted to yank the phone cord from the wall. She wanted to scream out a warning to Cole. But there was no stopping Estelle, who removed her hand from the speaker and kept talking.
“What a coincidence. There’s a bridal expo going on in Billings and I was going to send Vivienne,” the woman said, causing Vivienne’s head to jerk up because this was news to her. “Cole, why don’t you drive on over there, as well? Viv can take you and Susie to the event. We have lots of contacts out that way and you might even find a venue more suitable for someone in the modeling industry.”
Vivienne reached into her go bag for her emergency stash of chocolate.
* * *
“I...uh...” Cole started, but he was having a difficult time coming up with a diplomatic way to tell the older woman what he was really thinking.
“That wouldn’t be a problem for you, would it?” Estelle’s raspy voice taunted.
In for a penny, in for a pound, his mom used to always tell her sons when they committed to something. While Cole doubted that his mother would’ve approved of his less-than-honest methods, she would’ve been glad that he was doing this for Zach. “I think I can swing that.”
Cole made up an excuse about a cow getting loose from the herd—even though he was currently in his truck in the parking lot at the hardware store in the middle of Rust Creek Falls, where there wasn’t a heifer to be found—and quickly disconnected. He needed to get his breathing under control and rethink his moral downfall before the owner of Estelle’s Events roped him into any more ridiculous lies.
Less than an hour later, just when he’d thought of a legitimate reason he couldn’t go on the trip to Billings, his phone rang again. This time, Vivienne’s cell was the number that popped up on his screen. Still, he answered tentatively just in case he was on speaker again.
“Why did Susie Starlight have to be a model living in Billings?” she asked by way of greeting, indicating that nobody else was within listening distance.
“Because I was trying to stick to the truth as much as possible. When I was eleven, my mom had a photographer friend who needed a white horse in Billings to do some photo shoots for a grain company there. I didn’t get to go because I couldn’t miss school. I missed her like crazy.”
“You know that you’re not actually planning a wedding with your childhood horse, right?”
“I’m not supposed to be planning a wedding with anyone. But here we are.”
Vivienne groaned. “Estelle’s already registered me for the expo and ordered new company brochures and business cards for me to pass out while we’re there. Thank goodness she finally left for her hair appointment, but not before she warned me that Rich LaRue is also going to be there. God forbid the man gets to one of our potential clients first.”
“Who?”
“He owns another event planning company called A LaVish Affair. He’s Estelle’s biggest competitor and her sworn nemesis. I’m not sure, but I think there might be a court order somewhere directing Estelle not to get within five hundred feet of him, which is why she obviously can’t go herself.”
“You should look on the bright side, then. At least you’ll get a free trip to Billings and a weekend away from your nightmare of a boss.”
“Ugh. I don’t have an extra weekend like this to waste. Do you have any idea how much I still need to do for Zach and Lydia’s wedding? Wait, did you just say you?”
“Uh...” Cole had no idea where the woman was going with this rant. “What?”
“You did. You said you. As in I’ll get a free trip to Billings. I’ll be going alone.”
Cole tossed his hat onto the bench seat of the truck so he could scratch his forehead. “I’m confused. Are you not going?”
“Oh, I’m going all right. But you’re the one who decided to have a fiancée over there. So if I have to go to Billings, you’re coming with me.”
Chapter Eight
The sun had yet to rise on Saturday morning when Vivienne gave Lord Nibbles an extra scoop of food and a handful of grapes. “This should hold you over until tomorrow. Be good while I’m gone.”
Her one-bedroom apartment had come furnished, and despite her love of fashion and decorating and entertaining, Vivienne had never done much to spruce the place up. When she’d been growing up, one of her parents had moved out so often that personal effects had become a symbol of petty property disputes, such as who got to take the brand-new comforter set and who had to make do with the odd-shaped quilt her great-aunt Shelly had sewn for their wedding gift. Neither her mom nor her dad had wanted either; they just wanted to argue over the items.
The last thing she wanted was for Cole to see her lackluster homemaking skills and get the impression that she wasn’t up to the task of beautifying his family’s property in time for the wedding. It would be better to simply meet him outside.
She was loading her small carry-on suitcase into the trunk of the Jetta just as Cole’s truck pulled into her apartment lot. Billings was almost a seven-hour drive, so there was no point in them taking separate cars. Besides, the man had offered to do most of the driving, which would free Vivienne up to make last-minute phone calls to vendors and to track down a railway handcart, which she’d promised to Garrett.
It also freed her up from having to wonder if Cole would be staring at her, because the man couldn’t possibly pay attention to her if he had to keep his eyes on the road. Hopefully.
“What time are we supposed to be there?” he asked, stifling a yawn.
“Not until one. Luckily, Estelle was too late to register for a booth, so we’re going to be free to walk around and check out everyone else’s exhibits.”
“And pass out brochures to get you more customers.” Cole took the keys from her hand. “I mean, that’s why you’re going in the first place, right?”
“Something like that,” she replied, before thanking him for holding open the passenger door for her. When he scrunched his six-foot frame into the driver’s seat without complaint, she realized that they both needed to make the most of this awkward situation. “I know I’m supposed to be networking and finding more business, but it just doesn’t feel very organic to walk up to strangers out of the blue and hand them my business card.”
> “That makes sense.” He started the car and said, “When we get there, give me a stack and I’ll help. The sooner we hand them out, the sooner we can get out of that place. I had nightmares the past two nights about some overeager bride mistaking me for her groom and tricking me into exchanging vows with her.”
“You know it doesn’t work like that, right?” she asked as Cole pulled out of the parking lot. Even though the road was deserted this early in the morning, he used his turn indicator and kept under the speed limit. This guy drove the same way he handled any other responsibility, like it was the most important task he’d ever been assigned.
“How does it work?”
“You have to get an actual marriage license at a county courthouse. You go there in person, show your ID and sign for it. Then you get mistaken for a willing groom and tricked into a ceremony. Since it’s Saturday and all the county offices are likely closed, you shouldn’t be able to get yourself into too much trouble.”
“That’s a relief.”
“But I think it’s cute that you’re under the impression women you don’t know are going to be falling over themselves trying to trick you into marriage.”
“I didn’t say falling over themselves, but some women find me—”
The ringing of her cell phone interrupted what he was going to say and Vivienne found herself suddenly curious about what some women found. Her bubble of curiosity popped, though, when she saw who was calling her at this hour.
“Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?”
“I’m leaving him,” came Bonnie Shuster’s reply. “I thought things would be different this time, but your father will never change.”
“You always think it will be different,” Vivienne said. She covered up the mouthpiece and whispered to Cole, “Excuse me for a minute.”
“Do you know where he is right this second?” her mother asked, but the question was clearly rhetorical. Anyone who’d had a front row seat to the dysfunctional relationship of Bonnie and Richard Shuster could easily guess where her father was.
“At his apartment?” Vivienne asked at the same time her mother announced, “At his apartment.”
“Probably with one of his honeys,” Bonnie added.
As her mom launched into her version of their recent separation, Vivienne gave the required uh-huhs and murmurs of sympathy. After all, she was an expert at providing them to her parents. A tone for call-waiting beeped and she rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who it was without needing to check the screen.
“Mom, I’m on the road and the reception isn’t great. Call me when Dad comes home.”
“Mark my words, he is not coming home this time,” she started, but Vivienne clicked over.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Did your mother tell you what she did?” her father asked, before delivering his side of the story, which, as usual, involved a horrible argument over a forgotten anniversary—although, in his defense, who could remember which one to celebrate this year—followed by her mother’s accusations of imagined infidelities. Again, she gave the required responses as she only partially listened, trying to get the call over with as quickly as possible.
By the time she disconnected, the sun was lighting up the sky. “Sorry about that.”
“Should we turn around?” Cole asked.
“Why?”
“I...uh...couldn’t help overhearing, but it sounds like your parents are splitting up.”
“They’re fine. By this time next week, they’ll probably be back together,” she said. At his questioning look, she continued. “I know it seems odd. But it’s just what they do. Every few months they have some sort of major breakup and declare things are over. Twice, they’ve even filed for divorce. But then they make up and get back together. They’ve been married three times. To each other. Not counting all the vow renewals in between.”
“That sounds...” Cole didn’t finish his thought and she couldn’t blame him.
“I know. It’s crazy. But, on the bright side, it’s also how I landed this job. My parents hired Estelle for one of their vow renewals a few years ago. I was fresh out of college and needed to work somewhere and I was already an expert at planning their so-called celebrations of commitment by that time. So it’s been a good fit.”
“Yeah, but after growing up that way, how can you still believe in any of it? I would think you’d be pretty jaded by now.” His tone echoed her own skepticism.
“Sometimes I am. But then I’ll meet a couple like your brother and Lydia, and they’re the kind of people who make it all worth it.”
“But there have got to be times when you’re planning someone’s wedding and you just know for sure that it’s never going to last. How do you deal with it?”
Vivienne reached for her sunglasses and slid them onto her eyes, carefully slipping back into professional mode. “I tell myself that I’m giving people what they want.”
“Which is a bad marriage?”
“Which is a fairy-tale day. That, I can always deliver. What comes after that day is up to them.”
* * *
Cole pulled into a McDonald’s off the highway so they could use the restrooms and pick up some breakfast sandwiches for the rest of the drive. When they got back on the road, Vivienne asked, “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What are your thoughts on marriage?” Vivienne’s question caught him off guard and he accidentally swallowed a bite of hash brown without chewing it. After he recovered from a coughing fit, she clarified, “I meant, since we’re going to a bridal expo, it seems only fitting that as your hired wedding planner, I steer you in the right direction while we’re there.”
Cole’s thoughts on weddings were completely different than his thoughts on marriage. His parents had had a great union, so he knew they were possible. With a lot of work. They were also extremely risky when someone allowed himself to love too much. He took a sip of his coffee before purposely giving a vague response. “I think we all know how I feel about weddings.”
“Yep.” She powered up her iPad on her lap and began tapping. “But don’t worry. There will likely be at least a couple other reluctant guys like you at the convention center in Billings who think everyone else there is nuts.”
Several hours and a few hundred miles later, as much as Cole thought he was going to hate the bridal expo, he was actually having a lot of fun. Of course, it helped that when they arrived, the people at the welcome desk didn’t have Vivienne’s registration as a professional planner on file because of the late registration and they’d had to buy regular passes for the event, complete with name-badge stickers that read Bride and Groom.
Vivienne began to protest, but he’d peeled the thing from its backing and planted it on the neckline of her dress, right above the area that he really wished he could touch. Then he yanked his hand back and cleared his head before sticking on his own.
“Just go with it,” he’d told her, and they’d spent the first hour pretending to be an actual couple planning their own wedding. At least it had started out as a good-humored game of pretense, but his palm was still tingling from where he’d touched her under the name tag.
When they were standing in front of samples of wedding cake, he asked, “Did you try the red velvet yet?”
“We’ve already eaten one from every tray,” she whispered back to him. “If you take any more, the baker is going to ask us for a security deposit.”
To get her to stop worrying, he took a small square of cream-cheese-frosted cake and shoved it in her mouth. But instead of the playful act he’d intended it to be, her tongue darted out and touched his fingers and Vivienne closed her eyes, releasing a soft moan.
His pulse spiked to life and a sudden need hummed through him. Swing music blasted from a DJ’s speakers nearby, filtering through his thoughts and reminding him that this was not the time or the
place to be getting aroused.
“Oh, look,” he said, making her lashes flutter open. He stepped behind her and placed his hands on either side of her waist, steering her toward a booth across the way. “They have one of those wheels we can spin to get a prize.”
The posters hanging from the freestanding dividers behind the wheel advertised a luxury spa near Bozeman.
“Those things aren’t real prizes, you know,” she said. “They’re just gimmicks to get you over to their resort so that you’ll book your reception there.”
“You’re such a cynic. Just give it a whirl.”
Vivienne gave him a doubting look as she took a turn spinning the wheel. But when she won a box of fancy chocolate truffles, she jumped up and down as though she’d just won a free supply of steaks for a year. Her enthusiasm was infectious and he found himself wrapping his arms around her waist when she bounced a little too close to him.
She responded by throwing her own arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek before saying, “I’ve never won anything before!”
He was quick to release her, but the damage was already done. His skin was on fire and it felt as if her lips had left a brand above his jawline. Vivienne, thankfully, didn’t notice because she was clapping her hands as they showed her the two-pound box of chocolate. Cole was still rubbing the affected spot on the side of his face when she grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the wheel. “Now you try.”
“Honey,” he said loud enough for the representative to hear. “I’m sure they only give out one prize per couple.”
His use of the endearment had the desired effect, even if he kicked himself for causing her smile to slip. But the man behind the wheel waved him off and said, “Go ahead, give it a spin.”
Not wanting to disappoint his so-called bride, Cole channeled all of his building attraction and tension and spun the wheel so hard it almost flew off the stand. Watching the bright colors go round in such a fast circle made him dizzy and he had to look away, but not before Vivienne grabbed onto his hand and squeezed it in excitement. He didn’t look back until the clicking sound slowed, and even then all he could think about were their clasped fingers. Vivienne bounced in triumph again but stilled as soon as the representative asked, “Now, when would you two like to book your free couples massages?”
The Maverick's Bridal Bargain Page 9