At the end of my first month at the agency, Paolo called me into his office to analyze the state of my training and plan the next move. That morning I wore a pair of light grey pajama pants with a white shirt and black tweed jacket. I had rolled up my jacket sleeves, and put on my pearl earrings.
I looked very professional, even though the night before I stayed up late again with Emma, drinking wine and chatting. I was sleepy; it was difficult to focus on anything and I had no desire to work. In spite of three espressos, I kept yawning.
I went to Paolo’s office. He invited me to sit and offered me a coffee. I thought that a fourth dose of caffeine might make the difference that morning. I accepted it.
“So, Rebecca, how are things going? At this point you’ve been on board with us for four weeks.”
I detest the use of maritime metaphors, especially to describe business and employees. However, I decided of course to smile.
I said, thinking up my own ‘sea worthy’ metaphor, “I feel like I’m sufficiently afloat.”
“Great! That’s the spirit it takes to overcome the stormy seas of life. I’m sure you have noticed that it’s easier to row in the right direction when the team is working together.”
Useless! That morning he was acting like the commodore of a great fleet. I had only to follow his desire to lurch towards the harbours of events.
“Yes, I’ve noticed it.”
“And now that we’ve provided you with the right oars, all you have to do is to use all your energy to row the boat as far as possible.”
Honestly, I would rather have gone back to sleep that morning. But so as not to disappoint him, I tried to remain focused as much as possible, with a fake smile on my face.
“Your training period has come to an end. Now the most complicated part of your navigation begins. Are you ready?”
It was already complicated enough to organize weddings, but to imagine crossing the seas seemed impossible!
“Umm… Sure!” I swore to myself that I would never stay up late at night again during the working week…
“You don’t sound enthusiastic. Something wrong?”
“No, no, everything is fine. I can’t wait to begin, and hope to do my best… although…”
“Although?”
“Although I still struggle to see myself as a wedding planner.”
“On the contrary, in Valentina’s opinion, you have a real knack for the job.”
So, the bitch, indiscreet and fixated on internet dating, actually found the time to observe my work! For a moment, I was almost tempted to reconsider my first impression of her. Maybe she didn’t have to stay in the number one position on my hate list!
“Really?”
“Yes, really. She says that the only thing is – you lack the ingredient.”
“The ingredient?”
“In our agency we always say that everyone possesses a special ingredient to make an event a great success. It can be a small thing, but it’s what makes the difference. It makes each convention, party and event we organize a complete success. It’s a personal talent, something innate, in which our agency strongly believes. You must discover yours, and use it as a spice for every wedding reception you’ll be organizing.”
From maritime to cooking metaphors! But I confess, I liked this idea of a special and unique ingredient. I wondered if I would be able to find mine and make that difference.
“So, all I have to do is find my special ingredient,” I said, trying not to yawn.
“You will succeed. I trust you. I’ll give you some advice: think of something that makes the good moments of your everyday life unique.”
Well, it would be more complicated than I thought.
“Ok! I will think about it.”
“So then, to work! We don’t want to waste our time below deck, when all other sailors are already at their posts.”
No, of course. I too wanted to earn my position in the galley…
I left Paolo’s office and headed to my floor. I kept wondering what could be the formula to transform my work into a great success.
As soon as I stepped into my office, Valentina’s squeaky voice of assaulted me.
“There you are! Today is going to be hellish… We are already late!”
I tried to apologize, explaining that I went to see the boss, but she didn’t listen and continued to address the whole team.
“We don’t have any time to waste: today we have to begin working on a very important wedding and we have only a few months to organize it. The client is immensely rich, an aristocratic family and almost six hundred guests! We can’t overlook the smallest detail. I’ve decided to give top priority to this event, and I’m going to work side by side with Rebecca. We’ll be sharing the work in order to do the best job possible. Since our colleague, Rebecca, has little experience with weddings, I may need to ask all of you to help. So, please, make yourselves available. And now, back to work!”
The anxiety made my adrenalin rise; finally, I began to feel awake. The sleepy fog that enveloped me all morning started to fade away.
The few instructions have been strong and clear. I will be working for this grand event paired up with the most fastidious woman on the planet! In addition, I was still missing that special ingredient…
“I hope you feel ready for your first big wedding reception. Of course I don’t want to risk it being a fiasco.” Valentina followed me to my desk.
“Yes. I believe I’m ready.”
Up to then I had only organized small receptions. It was easy to organize them just from my desk, with a few site visits. But this seemed to be a very important event. The bride’s family was very influential and the agency had all the intention of making this a splendid reception. It was very important for both our reputation and for marketing reasons.
“Good, because I need smart people, fast on their feet.”
“You can count on me.”
“Perfect. Look! Today you’re even dressed like someone from our century. Not bad!”
I took a deep breath and decided not to reply.
“This afternoon we’ll meet the couple at the bride’s villa. The first meeting and first conversation with bride and groom are always very delicate. We need to understand their expectations, what kind of atmosphere they are looking for, what kind of magic… More than any other event, weddings must be created from the expectations, dreams and wishes of the client. This is fundamental. We must make their dream day truly unique.”
I nodded in agreement, yet thinking that these words were somehow predictable.
“Even though they will soon discover this is only the beginning of hell…” Valentina added with her usual sarcasm.
I was not a big fan of marriage. Actually, at that point in my life I seriously wondered about the happiness of married couples, so I smiled at her. But my priority now was just to be left alone, to run to the coffee vending machine to get my fifth espresso of the day.
I spent all morning working on the new project. I called suppliers to ask for quotes, I set up appointments to visit locations and sent e-mails to catering companies to look for the most exclusive menus. I also looked at several magazines to come up with some cool ideas. We were all very focused and everyone’s enthusiasm was contagious. For the first time I really felt part of a team.
At two, after a quick lunch and – I swear – my last coffee, Valentina and I got in the company car to drive to the bride’s sumptuous villa, just outside Milan.
In one month, I had learned so much about wedding receptions. Now I knew what the priorities were, which suppliers had the best wedding favours, how to organize tables, which locations were the best for traditional weddings, and those that best fitted more unconventional receptions. There were many rules, imposed by tradition, education, fashion, taste and even superstition. I had learned all this: now it was time to try to use all this information, the moment had come to demonstrate to myself and others that I was capable of something. The idea that I could count on my colleagues help comforted me. Just one month of experience wasn’t exactly enough to feel self-confident.
What seemed to worry Valentina most was the lack of time.
“I’m sure you’ve learned that most people want to marry between May and September. Then they can take advantage of the good weather to have outdoor receptions, wear light clothes, and shoot millions of corny photographs in sugary garden corners.” She was explaining this to me, while we drove towards the villa. “In this case, the groom is the son of a very rich industrialist. He and his new bride will soon be moving to the United States. That’s why they couldn’t plan for a summer date. It seems that he can’t wait to tie the knot! They will marry at the end of March, and we should think of it as a winter reception. The family is of noble origins, with a lot of money to burn. They will probably want a classic ceremony. Believe me, those are the most difficult to organize!”
I had to admit that, although at times she could be extremely unpleasant, she was professional and well prepared. In spite of her cynical attitude, I think she really loved this job.
Perhaps it was the caffeine, or maybe the traffic jam outside Milan, but I dared to ask her something personal. “Have you ever thought of marrying?”
She remained silent for a few seconds. Then she looked at me and answered, “I’ve already been married.”
I realized that maybe I made a faux pas. A woman that I thought of as one of the most convinced singles I had ever met, had a love relationship in her past so important that it led her into a marriage.
“We were young and happy. I was even more beautiful than I am now. We got married and were together for many years.”
“And then?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. Now I had become the indiscreet one!
“Then it ended. Most of all I believe it was because I didn’t want children at the time and he did… Anyway it would involve me getting as big as a hippo! Or perhaps it ended because some people are not meant to be together for life. In the long run, you get bored, especially with a loser like he was. We separated and eventually divorced. And now I’m a free and independent woman again.”
I caught in her voice a subtle vein of humanity, in spite of her usual proud, boasting tone.
It was incredible that all the people around me had some past relationship that hadn’t worked. I still wanted to fall in love again, more than ever, yet I began to realize that this thing called love was much more complicated than I ever imagined.
“Come on, don’t look so worried,” she said, resuming the sarcastic tone of a woman of the world, “I am perfectly fine. I date many men and have a lot of fun. Last night I met a very nice guy and we spent a wonderful evening together. That’s all we need men for, just to have a good time. You should try it! You look so uptight. I notice you always look a little sad, like a beaten dog. In my opinion you need to have some fun and go out with new men. Don’t tell me you’re still thinking of that asshole of an ex-boyfriend! You must be pro-active. You’re young and – although you have a funny way of dressing – even you deserve a sex life. How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
Oh my god – again she was passing the limit. “I prefer not to talk about these things…”
“Aha! I knew it! Trust me: it’s been too long since you have had sex. That’s not healthy. If you want, I can arrange a date for you with a friend of mine, this weekend.”
Perhaps she was right. I had to say yes and accept a blind date. I would spend an evening with someone and then put the whole idea behind me, forever. Maybe this was also the only way to shut her up and stop her persistence.
“Ok. Set it up for this weekend. I have nothing to lose.”
“Great! That’s the spirit. I’m sure you’ll thank me.”
I don’t know why, but I had many doubts about this.
*
Finally, we arrived at the big villa where our clients were waiting for us. We passed through a huge gate and drove along a tree lined allee which led to the house. They had to be really rich to live in such luxury. I was fascinated by luxury, as long as it was not tasteless. Coco Chanel used to say: Some people think luxury is the opposite of poverty. It is not. It is the opposite of vulgarity.
We were received in a large living room; there were beautiful oil paintings on the walls, rugs and elegant arm-chairs and on a fireplace mantle there was a glass vase with beautiful, fresh red flowers.
“Please, come in…” the bride’s mother was smiling. She wore an elegant navy pants suit.
We introduced ourselves and sat on a comfortable sofa.
“Would you like a coffee?” Frankly, I couldn’t have another drop of caffeine in my system! I thanked her and asked instead for a glass of water.
The future bride, her fiancé and her sister were also at the meeting.
“May we start?” Valentina asked very kindly – unusual for her – taking her faithful IPad out of her handbag. She kept all the documentation, photographs and her notes on it.
“Sure!” The bride seemed impatient. Her name was Giulia and she was a very beautiful young woman: tall, slender, with her long blonde hair tied up in a bun, showing an elegant, long neck.
“We have so many things to organize and in such a short time!” She added, sincerely excited.
At that point Valentina took charge of the conversation. “The first thing we should do is to pick out the invitations you want, address and mail them, so that all the guests have time to RSVP.”
“Yes,” the mother interrupted her, “we have guests all over the world. Many of them have been informed already and they are waiting for the formal invitation.”
“Then,” ignoring the mother, Valentina continued in her professional tone, “we will need to select the wedding rings.”
“We have already selected them at Tiffany’s! They are making them…” Giulia said proudly.
“Perfect!” I said. “Also we need to think about the dress and the shoes soon.” I knew the wedding dress was always one of the main reason for a young bride’s anxiety.
“I already have two appointments for tomorrow afternoon, if you would be available…” and Giulia named two prestigious showrooms in Milan.
Valentina nodded. “I can’t wait!” Giulia, joyful and thrilled, grabbed her sister’s hand. “I’ve always dreamt of wearing the white dress.” She smiled at her fiancé, who didn’t seem willing to talk much. Weddings in Italy are always women’s affairs.
“Also, we will have to order all the flowers. March is not the best month for flowers, but our nurseries have a big selection—”
I dared to interrupt Valentina: “We could use only camellias! March is the perfect month for them…” Camellias were the favourite flowers of Coco Chanel and so mine, too.
“White camellias,” Giulia said, clapping her hands. “I adore them. Wonderful idea.”
“And we’ll need to select and confirm the church as soon as possible.” Valentina continued.
“Speaking of the church and the location, one of our relatives offered us his castle on lake Como for the reception. The castle also has a beautiful seventeenth century chapel where we thought we might hold the ceremony.”
“It sounds fantastic! And simplifies things a lot…” I looked at Valentina. I spent all morning looking for locations, something large enough and elegant enough for this type of wedding and I had been struggling to find anything suitable.
“I would like to add something special to the party. An idea…” the bride said.
I said, “what about giving each guest a flying lantern? They can be lit up at sunset and when they rise into the sky, everyone can make a wish. They will create a magical atmosphere.”
“Oh, this is wonderful!” Giulia was enthusiastic.
“Good!” Valentina was looking at me, surprised, as if it were impossible that I had a brilliant idea! Everything seemed to go very well, in spite of my hangover and too much caffeine in my system. I was performing very professionally.
We talked about some more details and then said goodbye to the family. I was proud of myself. For the first time, I felt like a real wedding planner. I took my water bottle out of my handbag and secretly made a toast to my new self.
While heading to our car, I noticed a black Audi parking in the garden. I had the feeling I knew that car. A stunning figure got out of the driver’s side, wearing a very short black dress. It was Anna. That damned Anna! Anna – the-woman-to-love. And she was driving Niccolò’s car!
I didn’t know whether run away or slap her in the face. I wondered what the hell she was doing here.
As she went to the front door, she turned and saw me. She had the stupefied expression of a grazing cow. She stopped and shyly smiled at me.
“Rebecca… It’s been so long!”
An eternity, bitch! Given the fact that, after stealing my man, you didn’t even have the courage to call me.
“What are you doing here?” I said, trying not to shout…
“I came to get some documents for my father. They are my father’s clients.”
Of course! The very rich and eminent lawyer she worked for – a real self-made woman. Right!!
I kept staring at her without hiding my hatred.
“Rebecca… I’m very sorry for what… uh… happened between you and Niccolò. He says you were very good friends.”
“Niccolò says tons of bullshit! He’s an asshole and a traitor. Watch out, girlfriend, the next one he cheats on could be you!”
Anna stood there speechless. Valentina blew the horn impatiently. She already had started the car.
“I must go. Please, say hello to my best friend Niccolò.” I smiled and left.
During the way back to Milan, I kept smiling. I was very proud of myself. Finally, I had let out some of the poison I had inside.
*
As soon as we arrived at the office, I turned my computer off and gathered my stuff, while Valentina was checking her e-mails. I met Etienne in the hall of the building. He wore an elegant dark suit and carried a brief-case.
“How elegant! Are you going to deliver something important to a CEO?” I asked, thinking he looked even more sexy than usual in his tailored suit.
“You’ve got to have class no matter what your job! And you, Coco? Are you planning to fall into the arms of someone tonight?’
“Very funny.”
He looked at me with his gorgeous smile. I felt the usual butterflies in my stomach, and completely understood why his Juliette had lost her head for him.
“Thanks again for helping me with the Chanel handbag. My mother loved it.”
“I didn’t have any doubt. At least with Chanel, I’m an authority!”
“Got to go now.” He pointed towards the taxi waiting for him.
Yes, that man lives way beyond his means, I thought, puzzled.
I said goodbye and headed happily to the subway.
*
The next afternoon we met Giulia again – our future bride – at an elegant showroom in the centre of Milan. They specialize in wedding dresses and have many VIPs, even movie actresses, as their clientele. It was the first time I had found myself in the midst of wedding dresses, and – and even with my disdain for weddings – I have to admit they were beautiful.
“Many of my fiancé’s relatives live in London or in the States,” Giulia said – excited like a kid in a candy store – “so, we should also consider their traditions. Don’t you agree?”
“Ah! I have just the thing…” Valentina answered, “Something old, something new…”
“Something borrowed, something blue…” Giulia added.
“And a silver sixpence in her shoe!” Laughing, we ended the little rhyme in unison.
Everyone knows it. The Anglo-Saxon tradition, that we also have adopted in Italy, says that on the wedding day, the bride has to wear something old – to indicate her ties with her past; something new – good luck for a new life; something borrowed – better from someone already happily married; something given to her as a gift – a wish for future happiness, and something blue that symbolizes purity and fidelity.
“We’ll find everything you need!” Valentina said, as a model put on the first incredible white dress to show it to us.
“I already have everything, almost everything!” Giulia said. “I have my mother’s diamond necklace, a blue garter – a gift from my best friend – and my old, small diamond earrings. I only need something new!”
At that moment I had an idea! I asked Valentina to let me go for a few minutes, explaining I had forgotten something in the car. She nodded, slightly annoyed, and I ran out of the showroom, as if it were a matter of life and death. Earlier I had noticed a perfume shop a few blocks away. I was running there.
Twenty minutes later I was back, when the bride was trying on her first dress. Ecstatic, she looked at herself in the mirror. I took a little packet out of my handbag and handed it to her, hoping that I had done the right thing.
She looked surprised at me. “What is it?”
“Open it. It’s a gift. Something new to wear… It’s something important to me and I hope it will bring good luck to you!” I was a little anxious.
“Chanel No 5!” she exclaimed. She seemed pleased.
“I always thought it was the perfume of love. Put on a few drops on your wedding day and on your first honeymoon night…”
She stood up and gave me a warm hug.
I had finally found my special ingredient, the thing I had that could make a difference. Chanel had inspired me and been with me all my life. Now she would be my secret ingredient, my inspiration!
I sat there, while we continued looking at dresses. I felt moved, in spite of myself.
When the bride was in the fitting-room, Valentina turned towards me and said: “Next time you come up with some brilliant, crazy idea, please warn me!”
I didn’t care. I knew she was positively surprised – although she didn’t like surprises. I had been smart. I smiled, satisfied. “Thank you, Coco Chanel!”