“You’re kidding me, right?”
I stared at the tear-streaked bride who was surrounded by her brigade of bridesmaids, a bottle of vodka in her trembling hands. I’d been in the middle of discussing the final positioning of the floral arrangements with the florist down in the ballroom of the exclusive hotel; a gorgeous arch that had been flown in from Hawaii for the special day when I got the 911 emergency call from the bride. Or had it been Barbados? I couldn’t remember anymore; the stress of this wedding was starting to make me crazy. It was always one thing after another… and now I had to deal with the worst case scenario that every wedding planner dreads.
Of all the ones I had planned in my short but lucrative wedding planning career, this was definitely the most stressful. The bride, Crystal Wagner, was a socialite who not only demanded perfection but expected it to be delivered on a silver platter to her too.
Bridezilla on steroids.
I’d actually been afraid that she’d tear down this entire hotel with one of her tantrums. I couldn’t tell you how many times we’d gone back and forth about every minute detail of this wedding, my initial ideas never ever good enough, only to have her tell me the exact same idea the next day and take all of the credit. She’d driven me batty but this was my one chance to shine. So, I’d kept a smile pinned to my face thinking and dreaming of my future, of running my own wedding planning business.
She’d also insisted on doing the whole Hollywood thing and making it a surprise ceremony for the guests, making my job a thousand times more difficult to keep the whole damn thing as quiet as possible. And so far I was doing a bang up job; there hadn’t been a peep from the press, which I was grateful for. But that wouldn’t last for long, not now.
This was a nightmare.
Tonight’s dinner had been the start of the longest weekend of my career. Most of the time I enjoyed making a bride’s special day come true, but this bride…well, I was definitely looking forward to the commission on this one.
“I’m not kidding!” she wailed as the bridesmaids cooed around her, patting her shoulders. “He fucking dumped me after he… after… oh my god, he’s a fucking bastard!”
“It’s okay, Crystal,” one of the women said, handing her a tissue. “He’ll come crawling back tonight. You wait and see.”
“You don’t know Connor,” Crystal replied, pushing the woman away and swigging another healthy gulp of vodka. “When he says something, he means it. The asshole! I should have known better. I thought I had him… this was my ticket to fame!”
I thought about the groom; Connor Haden, the cocky, very self-assured star quarterback of the LA Lions. His on-the-field performance was one that would make him a hall of famer someday, but it was his off-the-field antics that had truly made him a household name, for all the wrong reasons, though. The tabloids were constantly full of him with his shirt off posing for the cameras, not to mention articles about his man-whoring ways, dumping this girl then the next. Going through whole batches of women like the disposable tissues Crystal had managed to work her way through.
The world had been shocked and surprised—teenage girls as well as disappointed housewives no doubt crying themselves to sleep—when the announcement had come that he’d gotten engaged to the smug socialite; and I remember reading polls about how long it would last… turns out Connor’s limit was two months.
I only knew him from watching football, one of my favorite players this season because he was that good, but that was it. He hadn’t been involved at all in the wedding preparations… I supposed that could’ve been a warning sign right there. But right now, all I wanted to do was punch him. He was ruining my entire existence by dumping his bride two days before her wedding. Really, who did that?
“Maybe someone can go talk to him,” another bridesmaid suggested, her words slurred. She was getting just as hammered as the bride. Crystal pondered the suggestion as she chugged the last of the vodka from the bottle, her mascara leaving black streaks down her cheeks.
As I watched her and studied her performance, it was difficult to feel sorry for the woman who’d made my life a misery for the last few weeks, but I knew I was being hard on her. She’d just received extremely terrible news, but if I didn’t know better I would’ve thought she was putting on a show for hidden cameras. She looked nothing like the radiant woman who had gripped her groom’s arm tightly just hours earlier while I‘d watched from the wings of the room, ensuring that everything was where it should be, and everything like a soap-opera star ready to deliver her next line.
Her bridesmaid had a point, though, maybe someone should go talk to him. It was my job to ensure that the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours went smoothly and right now, I was failing miserably. This was my chance to save the day.
“I’ll go,” I finally said, the entire group’s attention swinging to me. Someone really did need to go have it out with the bastard, and if I couldn’t get him to see sense then I would gladly give him a piece of my mind, I thought.
“You would do that?” Crystal asked, surprised as she looked at me. I shrugged, it was part of my job… kind of. I’d never had this happen before, but if I could figure out a way to obliterate all instances of the color orange in the hotel for the bride—because it “offends my sensibilities,” then I could surely figure out a way to get a blasted quarterback to say “I do”.
“Sure. I am the wedding planner, after all, and without a wedding, I can’t do my job.”
Her eyes narrowed and I saw a range of emotions flicker across her face before she turned on the charm. Perhaps she didn’t want the wedding to go ahead either, I pondered, but instantly dismissed it. She wouldn’t be in this state if she wasn’t hurting, unless it was all fake of course. “Okay, you go talk to him. Tell him I am distraught and that if he knows what’s good for him he will change his mind before I do something he will regret. This was supposed to be the wedding of the year! My wedding!” As she delivered her mind-numbing whining shriek, I winced. She’d be in full meltdown mode again in any moment, so it was best to get out while I could, I thought.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make your feelings known,” I said firmly as I headed to the door, not really intending on passing on Crystal’s veiled threat of blackmail to Connor. I would have to play it cool to get him to change his mind and patch everything back up with a woman who clearly wasn’t in the relationship for love. I supposed I couldn’t blame him for calling it quits; if she was anything like the spoiled brat she was with me, then I’m sure his patience had worn thin.
But the groom was sorely ruining my chances of getting away from my boss and opening up my own party planning business. So, I had to at least try to fix it. I’d planned on using the bulk of the commission from this successful event to get set up, not to mention the amount of exposure I would garner from all of the VIP attendees who liked to throw parties. Unlike my current job, I wasn’t going to limit myself to just weddings. I wanted to do it all. Big lavish events, parties, weddings, and birthdays, each with class, style and sophistication. The parties I envisaged would almost be like theatre productions, with me as the director, the guests the actors, and all my finishing touches as the backdrop of the stage.
I jabbed the call button for the elevator and slapped a determined ‘don’t fuck with me’ expression upon my face.
Connor Haden didn’t know whose dream he was messing with. But he was about to find out.