Wedding Auditions

By Lisa Scott

 

 

I followed three dozen men and women into the park, walking on my toes so my heels wouldn’t sink into the grass. I couldn’t believe I’d agreed to this. I kept waiting for a cameraman to pop out from behind a shrub to reveal we were all on a new reality show: Stop That Bride! This was ridiculous. But Bryce Anderson had been my best bud since our swinging bar scene days—monkey bars and swing set that is—and I could hardly refuse his request to be in the wedding. And since he personally picked me up that morning with my favorite iced coffee and an unspoken threat to reveal some very embarrassing childhood photos, there was no way out of it. My only hope was bridezilla would deem me unsuitable before the day was over. You see, all of us fools would have to pass an audition to be included in the wedding party. Seriously.

We passed a couple exchanging vows under the gazebo in the rose garden. Just the two of them. Now that’s the way to do it, I thought. But today, I was part of Weddingpalooza and I hoped I wouldn’t puke before the afternoon was over. That certainly wouldn’t look good in the pictures.

Bryce’s fiancée, Melanie, had booked the rose garden at Forest Park and hired a photographer for the auditions. Moira Moore, of course. The best in town. “I don’t know why more people don’t do this,” Melanie said, as the group gathered in the garden. “I’m going to start a trend. Micki, you’re going to write about this on your wedding blog, right?”

A woman next to me, who looked more amused than horrified, nodded. “You bet I am.” With a bright blue streak in her hair, I figured there was no way she’d be cast in the wedding. I’m sure that color would clash with whatever garish shade the bride chose for the lucky girls.

Melanie blasted her bright white smile. She was a tiny blond bombshell—Pamela Anderson without the tats. There really wasn’t any question why Bryce was marrying her. One look told you the whole story. Melanie clapped her hands to get our attention. “Thank you all for joining me today as we launch the Minx-Anderson wedding plans. Woot , woot, woot!” She pumped her fist in the air, bouncing on her toes. Quite a few people joined her.

Micki leaned over and whispered, “She’s giving the bridesmaids incredible swag bags. Everyone wants to be in this wedding just to get one.”

I smirked. “I’m no swag hag. Like I need a body lotion set.”

“Think Chanel. Sephora gift cards. Dolce,” Micki said. “Her family’s loaded.”

I stopped laughing. I really liked Sephora. But I was already hating Melanie. I blew out a breath and counted to ten, but that didn’t stop the tension crawling up my spine.

Melanie stopped bouncing and continued. “Now, as you know, the wedding is the second weekend in October, and the weather might be chilly, but I’m not ruling out sleeveless dresses, ladies. So be sure to keep those arms toned.” She smiled at us, like we were first graders and I wondered how such a small person could contain so much crazy. “Now, the wedding audition will have two phases.” She held up two fingers, tipped with long, zebra-print fingernails. “Your initial interview and photo session, and then the call back session for those who make the cut. That will happen next weekend.” She pressed a hand against the heart that was presumably hiding beneath her two enormous breasts. “You’re all very special to me and Bryce, but you know we can’t have everyone in the wedding party. We want couples who are going to look great in our photos, who are good dancers, and who bring creativity to the wedding planning team. So, good luck to you all!”

I tried to catch Bryce’s eye, but he wouldn’t acknowledge me. However, I did notice a cute guy behind him stifling a laugh by pretending to cough. He must’ve seen the look on my face, because he winked at me.

And I blushed! Only because I’m a total dork. I looked down at the ground while Melanie continued her spiel, announcing the first group she wanted to cross-examine. Luckily, I wasn’t in it. I tried to remember if they served alcohol anywhere in the park, when the winker approached me.

“You seem to be the only other sane person here who knows we’re being held hostage by an insane woman.”

I know. Why did we agree to this?” And thank goodness I curled my hair this morning.

Melanie was busy ushering the first group toward chairs she had set up.

He shrugged. “Let’s get out of here for now. It’ll be hours before she calls us. And if we don’t show, the happy couple knows where to find me.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and held it up.

I stepped back and narrowed one eye. “I don’t even know you. What if you’re a serial wedding audition crasher who lures women into the woods to have your way with them?”

“Don’t worry, I crash rehearsal dinners, not the auditions. You’re safe with me. Today at least.” He stuck out his hand. “Liam Streeter.”

I shook his hand. “Kelly Warner.”

“Nice to meet you.” He arched one thick, blond eyebrow. “Feeling crazy?”

“Feeling ridiculous.”

“Close enough. Come on, follow me.”

 

***

 

“Bocce ball?” I asked, as he led me to the grassy area where people were clonking balls onto the lawn. “I don’t know how to play.”

“Too bad. It’s the traditional game for all wedding auditions.” Liam got us a set of balls and tossed a little one onto the grass. “That’s the pallino. You want to throw your balls as close to it as you can—or try knocking my balls out of the way.”

I chuckled. “There is definitely a joke in there that I’m not touching.”

Liam grinned and handed me a ball. “Yeah, let’s leave my balls out of this.” While he wasn’t the typical guy I went for—tall, dark, and afraid of committing—I found myself a little breathless around Liam. He was probably only five ten, but he had a nice build, and wavy blonde hair. The kind of hair that should’ve been growing on my head, not his. He had a smooth, deep, voice that could lure an unsuspecting woman into trouble. Good thing I was always suspecting.

After he beat me twice, we went to feed the ducks and got chased by a goose. I hadn’t had that much fun at the park since our eighth grade field trip there. I almost forgot about the audition until Liam’s phone rang and he answered. “Yeah, yeah. She’s with me. We’ll be right there. Chill. Put it on ice. We’re coming.” He hung up, rolling his eyes.

“The bride from hell?” I asked.

He nodded.

“How do you know Bryce anyway?”

“I don’t really. But he’s marrying my sister so here I am.”

I froze, trying to remember every evil thing I’d said about Melanie in front of him, assuming he was a buddy of Bryce’s.

He grabbed my arm. “Don’t worry. I should have clarified—stepsister. We’re not close. I hardly ever see her. And none of that insanity is lurking in these genes.”

We hurried back to the rose garden, where Melanie stood tapping one of her platform heels. She crooked a finger at us and we slunk over, like two kids caught skipping Bio. “Liam, I told you I’m setting you up with Tory. Don’t go off with other women,” she hissed. She gave me a disgusted look and I figured I was home free. No way was she putting me in her wedding now. Heh, heh.

Liam shrugged. “Sorry. Kelly begged me to play bocce ball. I couldn’t say no.” We were standing close enough that he jabbed me with his elbow. “She’s state champ. She had to get her fix. You should see her.”

Melanie widened her eyes at me. “Really? Bocce’s ball’s classy, right? I wonder if we could work that into the wedding.”

I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of croquet.”

“No, Bocce ball’s classic. This is excellent. You never see Bocce ball at a wedding.” She was bouncing again. “Oh, I’m totally having Bocce ball during cocktail hour.”

“State champ,” Liam said again, nodding at me.

How sad that I was going to have to kill this man. “It was a long time ago. I barely remember anything.” I jabbed Liam back.

Melanie waved one hand, shooing him away. “Liam, go talk to Tory while I interview Kelly. Tory just got dumped and she needs to get her confidence back.” She winked at him. “We call Tory ‘Mac and Cheese’ cause she’s easy,” she whispered. “You’re good to go.” Melanie led me to the circle of chairs where a group of women were chatting.

I sat down, angry at easy cheesy Tory who I hadn’t even met, and wondering if letting out a big burp might get me off the hook here. A fart for sure, but that’s not something I can do on command like my brother does, lucky guy. Plus, Liam might hear, and like it or not, his opinion mattered. Fine. I was crushing on Liam. He was funny and cute, and he was the only thing making this day bearable besides my iced coffee, which was long gone.

Melanie stood up in front of the six of us sitting in the circle. Micki was there, too, probably spending her Sephora gift card in her head.

“Ladies, now that I know we’ve got a Bocce champ in our midst,” she gestured to me, “I’d like to talk about your talents. What can you bring to the Minx-Anderson wedding?”

I raised my hand. “Liam was kidding about me being a Bocce champ.”

Melanie put her hand on her hip and leveled me with a look. “Liam wouldn’t lie to me. And haven’t you heard what’s in my swag bags?”

A cute redhead raised her hand. “I heard about the gift cards and the Victoria’s Secret stuff. Is there any jewelry in there?”

“Can you say Micki Moto?” Melanie asked. A couple girls squealed, while she continued. “Now, as I was saying, when we conduct your personal interviews, please let me know about any talents you have not matter how small or insignificant you may think they are.”

The redhead raised her hand again. “I can hula hoop four hoops at once. Does that count?”

Melanie pursed her lips. “Maybe.”

I decided to quit protesting. She wasn’t going to pick me once we got to the swimwear competition. God, I hoped there wasn’t going to be a swimwear competition.

Melanie called for the first woman to follow her, and I leaned over to Micki. “How do you know the bride?”

“I don’t. She reads my wedding blog—Bridesmaid Blues—and invited me to be in the wedding. I think she wanted the publicity. I wanted the bag and the blog fodder.”

I covered my laugh.

The redhead leaned forward. “I barely know her. Our mothers are friends. She wanted to audition a redhead, in case she decided to go with all different hair colors.” She pouted. “I have a feeling she’s going to want all brunettes, though, so she can be the only blonde.”

I shielded my eyes from the bright sun. “I can’t imagine what’s she doing to the poor flower girl and ring bearer.”

Micki slipped a bag of M&M’s out of her purse and tossed one in her mouth. “Oh, no. No children. Kids are too cute. They’ll draw the attention away from her.”

“Lucky kids.”

Melanie came back to the group and pointed her clipboard at me. “Kelly? You’re up. Follow me.”

Rolling my eyes, I followed her to a second set of chairs where Bryce was waiting.

Melanie patted Bryce’s head. “Oh, honey, you’re so sweet to come over here. But you don’t need to be involved. I’ve got this covered.”

I clenched my teeth and narrowed my eyes at Bryce as I sat down. “Yeah honey, you don’t need to be involved.”

He wrapped an arm around me and squeezed. “Come on, you and I used to swap spit. I wanna make sure you make the cut.”

Melanie sucked in a breath. “Excuse me? Swapped spit? You mean you two…” Her finger flicked back and forth between us.

Nooo, no, no, no,” I protested. “We shared binkies and sippy cups. Baby spit. I’ve known him long enough to know only a very special woman could handle Bryce’s industrial strength ego.” I shrugged. “Sorry. Someone needed to warn you.” Oh, I’m digging myself in good.

Melanie sat across from us and gave me a tight smile. “So, besides the Bocce ball, do you have any other talents?”

“I told you. I’m not the state Bocce ball champ.”

Bryce sighed. “Why are you always so embarrassed about that? I really want you to lead our guests in a rousing game or two.”

I looked up at the sky, like maybe my patience was floating around up there. I looked back at Melanie. “I can make an excellent soufflé and I know how to hem my pants.”

She frowned. “Not very helpful at a wedding. Now, your dancing is very important. Are you a good dancer?”

“She’s an incredible dancer,” Bryce said.

“I’m good at rocking back and forth to slow songs,” I clarified.

That earned another frown. “I’m counting on the bridal party to create a musical number to enter to the church, or something exciting at the reception that’s going to go viral on the internet. Real big, like that Thriller reception, remember that? Something Cirque de Soleil inspired, maybe? Or on roller skates? That way, when Bryce and I come back from our honeymoon, I’ll have something to look forward to when the Today show features us and our crazy wedding video. Any experience editing video?”

“No. None at all. I really don’t think I’m well suited for your wedding.”

Her hand flew to her chest. “Don’t you want to be in it?”

“I just don’t want to let you and Bryce down.” I shooed away a bee and wished I could do the same with her.

“Let’s just get you on the scale and complete the interview and photo session.”

“Scale?”

She nodded.

I gripped the edge of the chair. “I wear a size eight. Isn’t that all you need to know? Weight fluctuates and varies depending on water retention and muscle mass, the thickness of my clothing….”

But still, she led me over to a scale set up in the grass. “You are keeping this private,” I said.

“No promises.”

I groaned and refused to look at the number.

“Wow,” she whispered. “You hide it well.”

“See? You don’t want me in the wedding.”

“Sure she does, Kelly.” It was Liam. “Besides, I want you in the wedding.”

I jumped off the scale, hoping he didn’t see the number, whatever it was.

Melanie slid her pen back on her clipboard. “Liam, you’re going to be paired up with Tory.”

“I think Kelly’s the one for me,” Liam said. “Let’s just have the two of us take a few pictures together. I think you’ll find we are an irresistible pair.”

“You’re with Tory.” Melanie stood up. “Kelly, we’re finished with the interview. Moira Moore,” she paused, to remind me she’d snagged the area’s top photographer, “is going to photograph you with the potential groomsmen, and I’ll get back to you with the results soon.”

Last time I’d been awaiting any kind of results, I’d been leaving the doctor’s office after taking a strep test. And I’d been in better spirits that day.

I posed in front of a huge arch of roses with the eighteen different men vying for a spot in the Minx-Anderson debacle. A few with grabby hands, others with bad lines, and one with horrific breath. Liam was last, and forced me into several unnecessary poses: me pretending to reach for a football toss, him planking on a bench with me stepping on him, then me over his shoulder like a bag of flour.

Liam groaned as he picked me up. “My stepsister’s right. You do hide your weight well.”

I kicked my feet but couldn’t make contact.

Moira laughed. “Oh, I hope she picks you two. This’ll be fun. I’m setting up a new blooper page on my website. I’m sure you’ll have lots to add.” Moira was beautiful. I was surprised Melanie was allowing her to work behind the scenes for team Minx-Anderson

When Liam set me down, I smoothed my skirt. “For the love of God, tell me we’re done. Can we please leave?”

Moira nodded.

“Great. I’m going home to see if I can wash out all this spray out of my hair, and this ludicrous day from my memory.”

“I could help you with the washing if you need.”

I crossed my arms. “Hilarious. Will you be doing a comedy routine at the wedding for your talent?”

“If you’re lucky. Now let me make sure you get to the car before Melanie asks you to complete the physical endurance test.”

It’s possible he wasn’t kidding. “Thanks.”

When we stopped at my car, Liam’s smile disappeared. “Hey, let me ask you. Seriously. Why don’t you want to be in the wedding? Beyond the obvious insanity of it all, it could be fun.”

The nasty feelings I’d been holding back all day threatened to spill out in fat ugly tears. I pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping to hold them back. Then I took a deep breath. “I spent three years planning my own ridiculous, over-the-top wedding that never happened.”

His smile fell. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” He crossed his arms and leaned against my car, staring off. “Scratch that. I’m not sorry. If you’d gotten married, you wouldn’t be available now, and clearly he didn’t deserve you if he didn’t scoop you up right away. Wait, you are available, right?”

I sighed. “As an empty cab at the airport.”

He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers for me to grab. “Feeling crazy?”

“Feeling sad.”

He grabbed my hand. “Then, we’ve got to change that.”

“What about Tory?”

He shook his head. “I’m not feeling that at all.”

“Melanie is going to see us leave together.”

“Good. Maybe she’ll drop her date-my-best-friend campaign.”

Ah. So that was it. I was a good cover. Well, I’d been worse, and he was the only possible thing that would make this wedding fiasco bearable.

 

***

 

We went out for beer and wings, and Liam wanted more details on my forever engagement.

I set down my beer. “You just jump right in, don’t you?”

“It’s on your mind. Might help to talk about it.”

“Matthew was a guy I met in college. We got engaged right after, and then there was always a reason we couldn’t set a date: a new job, car repairs that ate up our savings, another new job that required a move.” I shrugged. “So, the wedding plans kept ballooning. A harpist. Then four harpists. A tarot card reader for the cocktail hour. Fireworks. I’m not proud.”

He grimaced. “So how did it end?”

“When three years had passed since he proposed, I tried to pin him down to a date, but he wouldn’t. I told him I’d leave him if he couldn’t give me a date, and he said I was pressuring him into getting married.”

“Guess he forgot he gave you a ring.”

“It all fell apart from there.” I sighed. “Oh, well. It probably would have fallen apart at some point even if we’d gotten married. Have you ever been engaged?”

“Nope.”

“Ever been close?”

“Nope. But I’ll know it when I find it. And I won’t be hanging around for three years waiting to get married, I can promise you that.”

I devoured another wing, thinking about what he’d said. “Wait. How would you know right away?”

“Gut instinct. It never fails me. When I listen to it, that is. Made a few bad decisions with girls in high school, but who hasn’t?”

I wanted to ask what his gut instinct said about me, but his phone rang. He answered and nodded, then grinned while he listened to whoever was on the other line. “Great, thanks.” He hung up and grinned. “Good news. You’re in.”

“In what?”

“The Minx-Anderson wedding extravaganza.”

My jaw dropped. “Why? I was horrible. I weigh too much. I’m a lousy dancer.”

“But, you’re a Bocce champ, and she thinks that’ll fit in nicely during cocktail hour when guests are enjoying the peacocks roaming the grounds outside the Carriage House.”

“They’ve got peacocks at Forest Park?”

“No. She bought a whole flock of them to bring in. Haven’t you heard? The whole wedding is peacock theme. I think your dress has feathers.”

I balled up my napkin and threw it at him.

He ducked out of the way. “Could be worse. She had been thinking of a Twilight wedding. She was going to have you all wearing red contacts and graft fangs on your teeth.”

“Seriously?”

He grinned, and I didn’t know whether or not he really was kidding.

“Fine. Then you need to teach me how to be a better Bocce ball player.”

“I’m at your service. Oh, we’ve got our first Minx-Anderson meeting this Friday. I believe we’ll be trying on formal wear.”

“And the Bocce ball? When are you going to help me with that?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yesterday would be even better.”

 

***

 

I met Liam back at the park the next day. He explained the rules. They were pretty simple: get your big ball closer to the little ball than anyone else does, without hitting the little ball. Seemed easy enough, but he beat me every time.

We practiced Tuesday and Thursday after work, again, ending up out for dinner and drinks afterwards, and I was counting down the days until I’d see him again. Sure, it was the next wedding meeting, but still, Liam would make it fun.

This session was being held at a hotel ballroom, with a runway set up and dressing areas to get changed. Melanie had settled on nine bridesmaids and nine attendants, and they mingled about, clutching champagne flutes and plates of bacon wrapped scallops. I scanned the room for Liam and spotted him talking to Tory.

He was slowly backing away from her, but she’d take a step or two to stay near him. He spotted me, and rushed over.

“Melanie hasn’t given up her quest to get me and Tory together. She wants me to be her escort. I’m still rooting for you.”

Melanie spotted the two of us together and set down her drink. With fists clenched, she marched over, the train of her dress dragging behind her. The front of the minidress was inches away from showing way too much, but her train spilled out onto the floor two feet behind her. “She should really wrap some of that extra material around her thighs,” I said, not quite aware I’d uttered it aloud.

“I think it’s very subtle,” Liam said. “I hear she’s got three different wedding dresses she’ll be changing into throughout the day.”

“That’s all?”

He nodded. “She doesn’t want to go overboard. The dress for the church has a twenty-foot train. Trained peacocks will be holding it up as she glides down the aisle.”

“You’re kidding, right? Because she’s in for a surprise—peacocks are loud. Really loud.”

Melanie finally reached us and gripped Liam’s arm. “What are you doing? You’re escorting Tory, so you need to spend some time with her, really get to know her.”

“Who’s escorting me?” I asked.

She grinned. “Bryce’s brother.”

I groaned. Bryce’s brother, Eddie, was seventeen, with enough hormones for five grown men. Bryce and I had spent years trying to ditch Eddie when we went off on our adventures. I spotted Eddie across the room and he cocked his finger and thumb like he was shooting me. Then he blew me a kiss.

“I thought you said no kids in the wedding.”

She waved me off. “Eddie is practically a man. Besides, Bryce insisted. Just like he insisted with you. I figured it’d be best to stick the two of you together. You’re like Bryce’s little prize pack.” She picked up her train in one hand and took Liam’s arm in another, escorting him away from me.

Micki wandered over to me. “Lucky you. You’re in.”

“You too. I wasn’t sure with that blue streak of yours.”

She fingered her hair. “Oh, no she loves it. It matches the peacocks. She wants all the bridesmaids to add a blue streak.”

I groaned. “Sorry. It looks great on you, I can’t pull it off.” I snatched a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “So, who are you standing up with?”

“My fiancé. I brought him along to the audition because we look good together, and Melanie agreed.”

“So, she doesn’t even know him.

Micki shook her head. “That got her thinking of hiring a few models to stand up, too, but I told her they might take the spotlight off her, she dropped that idea.” She laughed. “My web traffic has doubled since I started blogging about this wedding.”

I tossed back the rest of my drink. “This is going to be a long two and a half months.”

Melanie stood on the runway and tapped a microphone. “Hello team Minx-Anderson!” Again with the wooting and bouncing. “Before we get all stuffed at dinner, we’re going to try on four different bridesmaids dresses, and guys you’ve got four different tux combinations. So let’s go get changed, and strut your stuff down the runway. Then we’ll be sampling three different wedding cakes and I’ll be asking you to vote on your favorite.” Then she waved a finger. “And Bryce, just a reminder, we will have the quickest marriage ever if you smoosh cake in my face at our wedding.”

He held up his arms like, Who, me? And everyone laughed. I mentally tallied up the amount I had in checking and savings that I’d be willing to pay Bryce to see that.

We were ushered back to the dressing area, where we tried on the first dress—a teal gown with beading under the bodice—which was actually quite pretty. I put it on and the seamstress made a few adjustments. I was ready to hit the runway, when the seamstress stopped me. “Don’t forget your accessories.” She slid a headband on me, lined with peacock feathers. I sighed. Then she pinned something to my back.

“What’s this?”

She wouldn’t look at me. I dashed to the mirror and gasped. I was sporting a peacock tail. “This is a joke, right?”

The seamstress shook her head. “Let’s just hope she goes with one of the other options. But she spent thousands having these made, so who knows?”

At least all the other girls were wearing the tails, too. A few looked happy about it. I trudged out to the stage, thrilled to see Moira Moore there again to document my continuing humiliation.

Eddie was waiting for me, wearing a peacock print tie and cumberbund. Then I looked down too far and saw a bulge in his pants. I gasped. Please be a cell phone, please be a cell phone.

He smiled. “You like that, do you? Made it just for you. Wanna see it?”

He tried to take my arm, but I jerked it away from him and we walked up on stage. Moira had us take several poses, and I searched the crowd for Bryce or Liam but couldn’t find them. I saw Micki in her own getup, jotting down notes on a pad while she smirked.

And so it went, with three other dresses: a bright metallic blue, mermaid-style dress with feathers lining the bottom; a bright green sheath dress that was cutting off my circulation; and a hoop skirt that could hide a flock of peacocks beneath it. I wasn’t sure which one to root for.

Finally, we were able to change back into our clothes, and sit down for dinner. “You make a beautiful bird,” Liam said to me as we passed each other on the way to our tables. “I only wish I didn’t have to compete against Eddie. I don’t stand a chance.” Then he went to his table.

Our eyes caught several times during dinner, so I missed much of what Eddie was saying to me, but I caught a few key words: tongue, bra, and teeth.

I grabbed his leg and squeezed hard. Really hard. “Knock it off or I’m telling your mother.”

He paled and studied the scraps left on his plate.

Then it was time to show off our dancing skills. I’d shaken off Eddie, who was now chasing a waitress. Micki and her fiancé joined me and Liam, lingering by the dance floor. It wasn’t long before Melanie showed up to douse the fun like an unexpected summer storm.

“What did you think of the dresses, Liam?” she asked.

He tapped his finger against his nose. “I think it would be interesting if each girl was a different bird. Not just all peacocks—I’m sure that’s been done. Like one could be a swan, another a flamingo. I think Kelly would be an incredible emu.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s an awesome idea.”

Micki quickly jumped in. “No, that would draw the attention from you. The mermaid dress was perfect. Perfect! Classy,” she sucked in a breath, “and really fits the theme. Different birds would be…”

“Distracting!” I added. “And you want to stick with the theme. Peacocks, not just birds.” I wrinkled my nose.

Melanie sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

Relief swept over me, because I just knew I’d end up being the ostrich in the bird-parade scenario.

Melanie grabbed Liam’s arm. “Come on. Tory’s over here.”

He jerked his arm away. “Later. I’m talking to these guys.”

The fact that he wasn’t alone with just me must have mollified her, so she bustled away, probably to ask the chef if roast peacock could be served at the reception.

Liam took my hand. “Feeling crazy?”

“Going crazy.”

“I was going to suggest midnight bungee jumping, but let’s dance instead. Might be our only chance. I’m sure your escort will be giving me a wedgie any minute to weasel his way in here.”

“I could just quit, right?” No gift bag was worth this nightmare.

Liam pouted. “You’d break Bryce’s heart. And mine.”

Oh, he’s good. “Oh, it’ll be a great story to tell someday, right?”

“It’s a great story to tell right now. This one doesn’t need to age.” He swept me onto the dance floor, and surprisingly, the man could dance well enough that he made me look like a good dancer.

Melanie scowled at us from across the dance floor, and soon Tory was cutting in.

Then a ballroom dance instructor showed up, instructing us how to do the routine we’d perform after the bride and groom did their first dance.

“What about the viral video?” I asked Micki, waltzing next to me.

“She wants that to be something at the church.”

“I could moon everybody at the altar,” Eddie offered. “That’d go viral. I’ve got a nice ass.”

I was ready to squash that idea, but instead said, “That might be our best bet. You keep that in mind.”

“You just want to see my ass.”

“Eddie, you are an ass. I don’t need to see it as well.” I grabbed his hands and practiced the Rhumba while trying to keep eighteen inches between our pelvises.

The clock was approaching midnight, and I wished I was Cinderella so I could go home. Melanie spotted a few of us yawning and reminded us about the gift bags. “Godiva, ladies! Dooney and Burke!”

That perked up a few people, but I leaned on Liam as we sat next to each other, going over proper silverware etiquette since everyone would be watching the main table and we wouldn’t want to embarrass Melanie, now would we? I fell asleep against his shoulder.

When he nudged me awake, I smiled up at him. What a nice feeling, staring into those eyes.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Liam said.

My eyes widened. Surely he didn’t mean….

“Relax. Remember, I told you I save that for the rehearsal dinner. But I would like to see you tomorrow.”

“More Bocce ball lessons?”

“No. A chance to be with you and not have my evil stepsister interfering.”

“That’d be great.”

Then Melanie taped the microphone again. “Now, before we leave tonight, I’m excited to announce plans for the bachelor and bachelorette parties. In two weeks, we’re going to Vegas baby!”

Lots of hooting and hollering followed that. I looked up at Liam. He shrugged. “She wants to go there early so highlights can be added to the wedding video she’s passing out to the guests in their go-home goody bag. It’s just for the weekend. You won’t have to take off from work.”

“I’ve never been to Vegas.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky,” Liam said, waggling his eyebrows.

I was too tired to slug him.

So we went to dinner and the movies the next day. And then we practiced Bocce ball a few more times, and I was finally starting to beat him. And when he took me out the weekend before we were going away, Liam spent the night. When we woke up together the next morning, I looked over at him and smiled; overwhelmed with that same feeling I had when I’d woken up, leaning on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” I said.

He kissed me. “Me, too. I wasn’t entirely sure I could drag you off to the woods at the rehearsal dinner as planned.”

“So I guess I can stop wondering if you’re just trying to shake off Tory.”

He propped himself up on his elbow and traced his finger along my cheek. “Remember what I said about my gut instinct?”

I nodded, and my throat tightened. What was he saying? That he knew I was the one? No. How could he? He meant he knew Tory wasn’t the one. I cleared my throat. “So, what do you want to do today?”

“Feeling crazy?”

I laughed. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna find out?”

I laughed. “I’m feeling hungry.”

He scooped me back in his arms and kissed me and we replayed the events from the previous night together before I had a chance to clarify that I’d been thinking bacon and eggs when I said hungry.

But this was nice, too. Very nice. Nicer than…well, than I couldn’t even remember.

 

***

 

We spent every day together after that, and he picked me up for our trip to Vegas. As we made out in the cab one last time before joining everyone at the airport, I said, “Melanie is going to try to get you together with Tory again. Should we tell her about us?”

He kissed my nose. “Don’t you worry about that.”

“Why not?”

“I paid one of Bryce’s buddies a hundred bucks to chase her. Once I mentioned how friendly she is, he gave me the money back. But what are we going to do about your admirer?”

“Thankfully, Eddie’s too young for casinos. He’s not coming.”

Liam high-fived me, kissed me again, and held out his hand. “Feeling crazy?”

“About you, I am.”

He grinned, and we dropped hands as we approached the group. At some point we’d come clean about the relationship, but I didn’t need the drama now.

 

***

 

We’d left the hotel in two limos, the girls in one, the guys in the other, and a videographer with each group. Melanie had passed out sashes and tiaras we were supposed to wear. Mine said Miss Congeniality. Her crown was huge and she had a scepter. “Let’s get wedding tattoos!” she squealed. “Little peacocks on our ankles.”

Some girls were game. “I will jump out of this limo right now if you make me get a tattoo,” I said.

Melanie pouted. “Party pooper.” Then she smiled. “I’ve got an idea. Let’s find the boys.”

“How are we going to do that?” Micki asked, readjusting her crown.

Melanie hiccupped and pressed a finger to her lips in a shhh gesture. “I’ve got a GPS tracker on Bryce’s cell phone so I can be sure he’s not cheating on me.”

The videographer leaned forward, zooming in on Melanie. She seemed to forget she was documenting this whole traveling circus.

Turns out, the guys were at a strip club. Shocking, I know. Melanie wasn’t bothered. She probably had a better body than most of the women there. And she’d surely be showing it off to the crowds before the night was over.

We followed her in, and a few men turned from the girls on stage and applauded our arrival. I did my best not to look at the orbs of flesh jiggling on stage and scanned the crowd. I was thrilled to see Liam in the corner, joking with one of the groomsmen, paying no attention to the strippers. Since I’d had a few too many glasses of champagne, I ran over to him and slid onto his lap.

“Whoa, I didn’t order a lap dance.”

I kissed him. “You’re not watching the strippers. I love you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed; then he smiled and kissed me. “If you don’t want my sister unleashing Tory on me again, we better get out of here.”

I looked over to see if Melanie had noticed us, but she was standing on a table. Minus her top. Men were waving singles at her. The dancers on stage stood with fists on hips, not amused. It would all make for an interesting wedding video.

On that thought, I said, “Yeah, it’s a good time to leave. You know, before she insists all the bridesmaids start team stripping or something.”

We headed for the door and Micki and her guy followed us. Liam flagged a cab, and the alcohol coursing through my veins made me a little weepy. I really, really liked this guy. Hadn’t I just used the word love? I hiccupped.

Liam held the door for me, and I scooted into the cab. He put his arm around me and I nestled against him. Micki and Ben piled in, too. “Where to?” asked the driver.

Liam looked at me. “Feeling crazy?”

I just smiled and nodded, and Liam shouted out an address to the driver and we were off.

When the cab stopped in front of a wedding chapel I looked at Liam, stunned. “You are feeling crazy.”

“My gut instinct, remember?” He held out his hand, and I followed.

 

***

 

The next thing I remember, it was morning, and I was waking up next to Liam, curled up on his side. I smiled as I nuzzled against him, recalling the previous night. Then I screamed.

And a woman screamed. It was Micki.

I pulled the sheet over me and realized I was wearing the same clothes as the night before. “What the hell? I thought you were Liam!”

“I know. You tried to kiss my neck.” She grimaced.

“Sorry.” I smacked my hand against my head. “Where is Liam? Last thing I remember we were at—” I gulped. “A wedding chapel.”

“I know. I followed you in and stopped you before you signed up for the shotgun special.”

“So, I’m not…we’re not…”

“Married? No.” She shook her head.

“Oh.” My first reaction was disappointment. But I should be relieved, right? “What happened?” Had Liam backed out?

“The two of you were drunk, and as a wedding planner, I wasn’t about to let anyone start their life together like that.” She held up a hand. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t get married, you just shouldn’t get married like that.”

I nodded. Then I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

 

***

 

Liam was with the guys and I wondered how much he remembered. Was he regretful or grateful we hadn’t tied the knot?

He was propped up at the table in the hotel restaurant, and gave me half a grin. “Let me guess. Not feeling so crazy this morning, right?”

I put my hand over my stomach. “Not really.” Everyone else got up to go to the buffet, and I sat next to him. “But that was pretty crazy last night, huh?”

“I would have done it. If Micki hadn’t stepped in.”

I blinked at him.

“Gut instinct. And it’s telling me you’re the one. What are your instincts telling you?”

I gulped. “My gut instinct has never spoken up.”

“Not even now?”

My heart quickened. What did I feel? Could I possibly know I wanted to be with someone for the rest of my life after just a few weeks? I pressed my eyes closed. “It’s too soon, Liam.”

 

***

 

I was still trying to pin down the feeling in my heart two days after we got home, when the phone rang. It was Liam.

“It’s about time we schedule another Bocce ball lesson,” I said.

“That won’t be necessary. The wedding’s off. Or it will be soon.”

I dropped onto the couch. “What happened?”

“Melanie’s been having an affair with her yoga teacher.”

“How did Bryce find out?”

“Somehow, their phones got swapped in Vegas and he realized she’d installed a GPS tracker that she was monitoring on her phone. And he was very curious why she was at a hotel on a Tuesday morning. So, he went there, waited a while in the parking lot, and saw the two of them coming out of a room together.”

“Did he confront her?”

“Nope. He’s waiting to make it memorable.”

I grinned to myself. “I’ve got an idea.” When I told him, he thought it was brilliant.

“But I can’t be part of it. She is my stepsister, lunacy and all.”

“That’s okay. Bryce and I should be able to handle it just fine. He’s almost like a brother to me. I owe him.”

 

***

 

Bryce returned her phone—with it’s own GPS tracker installed, and learned from the clerk at the hotel that she and her boyfriend met every Tuesday and Friday morning after her yoga class. Bryce thought my idea was fantastic, and we were going to deliver news of their cancelled wedding plans that Friday—in person.

We pulled into the hotel parking lot a little after ten. “Ready to do this?” I asked him.

He nodded, but he looked more sad than vengeful.

I touched his arm. “I’m so sorry she did this to you, but I’m not sorry you won’t be marrying her. She’s nuts. And she doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

He mussed my hair. “Thanks, Kelly.”

“The more I see about marriages and weddings, the more I think it’s not for me.”

“Don’t say that. You deserve someone great. It’ll be different for you. You’ve already gone insane over one wedding that didn’t happen. You saved yourself a divorce. The next one, you’ll get right.”

I took a deep breath. I hoped he was right, because even though it seemed too soon, I could picture myself with Liam. However, I could not picture myself ever planning another wedding. I’d have to work on that if I wanted to be with him.

Bryce rolled the cart we’d borrowed to the hotel room, and I knocked on the door. “Room service,” I said, trying to disguise my voice. I got my video camera out and started rolling. Then, I got ready to release the latch on the carrier I’d set at my feet.

Melanie came to the door, clutching a sheet over her chest. Her smile fell when she saw Bryce. “Honey, wh-what are you doing here?” She plastered on a great big smile. Then she looked at me. “And what’s she doing here?”

Bryce crossed his arms. “I thought we’d celebrate our wedding a little early. No make that, the end of our wedding. I know what and who you’ve been doing. Thank god I found out now.”

With that, I released the three frantic peacocks into the room. They started screeching and pecking and Melanie yelped. Then Bryce stepped from in front of the wedding cake on the cart. And he grabbed a handful of cake and smooshed it in her face. Her sheet dropped while the cameras rolled.

My eyes popped out. “Those are fake right?”

Bryce nodded. “Her birthday present from me last year. Think I can get them back?”

Melanie clutched her hands over her breasts like he might really be able to get them, while the peacocks howled, and the guy in her bed scrambled to the bathroom and locked himself in.

“Best wishes for a nice life, Melanie,” Bryce said, then he slammed the door in her face—but not before I got a lovely close-up of the frosting and horror all over her face.

I high-fived Bryce on the way back to his car. “She’s going to get her viral video.”

 

***

 

Bryce was invited to appear on all the morning shows to talk about his ultimate breakup. He’d gotten over a million hits on YouTube in three days. Melanie was too busy trying not to get written out of her father’s will to worry about her public humiliation.

Liam called and asked if he could come over. “I need to talk to you.”

My stomach dropped. Was he going to dump me now that the wedding was over? “Sure,” I said, realizing how much he meant to me. I loved him, I knew it. But for all I knew, he was coming over to break up with me for playing a part in his stepsister’s viral humiliation.

Liam showed up half an hour later looking more serious than usual. “What’s up?” I asked.

“My stepdad is so pissed at Melanie. Not just because of the tens of thousands of dollars he’s losing on the wedding, but he’s humiliated.”

I looked at the floor. “I’m sorry. But she deserved it. She was out of control and thinking only of herself. She really hurt Bryce.”

“I know. You probably did her a favor, bringing her back down to earth.”

“So you’re not mad?”

He smiled. “No. I’m impressed. My stepfather even joked that I could take over her wedding plans if I had someone special in mind.”

My heart jumped in my throat. I forced a laugh. “That would be something, huh?”

He stepped closer and wrapped his hands around my waist. “That would be perfect for someone who never wants to plan a wedding again. For someone I know I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He grinned. “Feeling crazy?”

Crazy? That was insanity, right? Marrying a guy after a few weeks? Taking over his sister’s wedding? Then again, my heart was singing yes, yes, yes! Guess that’s what a gut instinct felt like.

Liam watched me as I sat on the couch, mulling this over. His smile slipped a bit as he waited for my answer.

And if I ever were going to get married, this was the way to do it—without the planning. Either that or elope. I looked at Liam and smiled. “You know what? I am feeling crazy. Let’s do it.”

He scooped me up and spun me around.

“But just one thing. Wait a minute.”

He set me down.

I glared at him. “No bocce balls. And no peacocks.”

He scratched his head. “About that.”

I narrowed one eye. “Yeah?”

“We’re kind of peacock parents now. When we inherited the wedding, we inherited everything from the wedding.”

I groaned, then I perked up. “Even the bridesmaid goodie bags?”

“Yep.” Then he kissed me, and my gut instinct finally kicked in with a resounding yes.