Eight
Bob stared at the pieces of paper before him. He’d started with more than thirty wedding planners to contact. Now there were only five.
Then there was the matter of contacting Amy. He hadn’t talked to her since Tuesday. Thankfully, that conversation hadn’t been marred by the knowledge that her wedding plans had fallen apart. The next one would, however, unless he managed to fix the problem today.
She’d be home Sunday evening, so even if he managed to keep the topic of the wedding out of the conversation—which was doubtful at best—there’d be no missing the lack of a wedding planner come Monday morning. “This is a mess,” he whispered. “A huge mess.”
Bob sighed and pushed away from his desk. So much for depending on Yvonne to help. Not that he could fault her for leaving him.
“Who wouldn’t be thrilled with a condo on the beach in Waikiki with a balcony overlooking Diamond Head?” he said as he stood and stretched the kinks out of his neck.
Not that Hawaii was his cup of tea. Too many people and you couldn’t even see the stars for all the lights in Honolulu. Now, put him on a horse somewhere with lots of land—that would be a vacation.
Bob rolled his shoulders and felt the stiffness give a bit. He should call Amy. She needed to know. He leaned over and reached for the phone, then set it back down and sank onto the chair again.
“I can’t let her down,” he said softly. “I just can’t. There are still five left. Surely one of them will take on the impossible.”
He divided the stacks by city and tackled the two in New Iberia first. The first one hung up on him when he gave them the date, and the second tried to offer him half price for moving the wedding from Latagnier to a casino docked near Lake Charles. He politely declined.
Bob tossed both slips of paper into the trash, then placed the last three pages in front of him. Three names, three more chances to make things right.
He closed his eyes and prayed, then reached for the one in the middle: Divine Occasions. A recording told him to leave a message, so he did. The second one, a place called Exquisite Events, thought he was playing a practical joke on them, while the third, Acadian Wedding Planners, followed in the grand tradition of hanging up when he stated the urgency of the matter.
“I’m in a fine fix now, Lord,” he said softly. “The only place that hasn’t turned me down is this one, and I’m sure it’s a matter of time before they do.”
“Now, you don’t know that.” Mrs. Denison stood in the doorway, her fingers over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear. I saw the light go out on the phone and thought it would be a good time to deliver the mail.”
“Yes, of course, come on in.”
Bob walked over to the window and tried to make sense of the mess. He had one chance left to make Amy’s wedding the one she deserved. What were the odds that Divine Occasions would take on the project?
“So,” Bliss’s mother said lightly, “did you have a chance to call the. . . Oh, I see you did.”
He turned around to see her studying the wastebasket, now overflowing with crumpled pages. “It seems as though the consensus is that my timeline’s a bit too tight for them.” When she looked confused, he clarified. “Nowadays a wedding takes more than a month to pull off. I had no idea.”
“Well, in my day it surely didn’t.” She smiled. “Why, my dear husband, rest his soul, and I didn’t have all this fuss. He took a notion to ask me to marry him, and I said yes. Mama gathered flowers from the garden, and my papa drove me to New Iberia to buy a pretty new dress. We were married in my grandparents’ front parlor and had cake and coffee afterward right there in the dining room.” She paused as if remembering the day. “ ’Course we were more concerned with making our way in the world than the young folks nowadays. We couldn’t have afforded anything grand. Your Amy, now she’s already got her life arranged. It wasn’t like that for me. I had my sights set on a home and babies.”
“She does have her life arranged, doesn’t she?”
“Seems to.”
Bob paused to think on that, and his hopes soared. Amy was a smart young woman. Surely she would see the wisdom in a small wedding.
“You know, Mrs. Denison, I have to wonder if yours wasn’t the better way.” He paused to convince himself further. “I’ll bet Amy would be just as happy with a small gathering and just a few friends and family.”
“Oh, I don’t know. She might. Although what bride wouldn’t want to feel like a princess on her big day?” Bliss’s mother giggled. “And since when does a member of the Breaux family have a small wedding?”
He sighed. Mrs. Denison certainly spoke the truth. Even limiting the guest list to first cousins would make the numbers bulge well past what any local restaurant would hold.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“About what?” She paused. “Oh, now don’t let me be putting ideas into your head. This isn’t my wedding or yours. It’s Amy’s. If I were you, I’d find out what Amy wants and stick to that.”
He met her gaze. “But how am I going to do that? To find out, I’d have to tell her there’s a problem.”
“You haven’t done that yet?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Bobby Tratelli, you have to tell her.” The moment the words were out, she looked as if she wanted to reel them back in. “I’m sorry. That was none of my business and certainly not something an employee—even a temporary one—should be saying.”
“Uh, Mrs. Denison? About your employment.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “What about it?”
He gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “Sit down. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“If it’s the coffeepot, that fancy new one’s not broken. I just set it under the sink, but I can get it out and use it again if you’d like. It’s just that I prefer the percolator. Gives a much better cup of coffee in my—”
Bob sank down in his chair and held his hands up to silence her. “No, it’s not the coffee. In fact, the cup I had this morning’s the best I’ve ever tasted.” He grinned. “Although if you were to tell my mama that, I’d have to deny it.”
“I’m pleased that you liked it. The trick is to mix just the right amount of chicory with the coffee. Once you get that figured out, the rest is easy.” She giggled. “And if it makes you feel any better, your mama was the one who showed me how to make it.”
They shared a laugh; then Bob grew serious. “Mrs. Denison, something’s happened to change the situation here at Tratelli Aviation.”
“Oh?” She fumbled with the brass buttons on her sleeve. “I hope it’s nothing serious. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind what with Amy’s wedding and all. Is it something I might be able to help with?”
He exhaled slowly. “Yes, I believe it might be.”
Mrs. Denison waited patiently while Bob chose his words. And, to her credit, she waited in silence. Bob had hired and fired a number of people in his day, and he’d learned that the good ones—the employees who stuck around and earned their keep—were the ones who could wait in silence.
“As you know, Yvonne phoned this morning from Hawaii.” When she nodded, he continued. “Seems as though she won’t be returning to her job here.”
“Oh?” She shifted positions and affected an innocent look. “What will you do?”
Something in her manner gave Bob the impression that Mrs. Denison already knew there was an opening at Tratelli Aviation for an executive assistant. He also suspected Yvonne told her before she worked up the courage to tell him.
“What will I do?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk as he steepled his hands. “What I thought I would do is offer the job to you. If you’d like it, that is.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Well,” she said slowly, “my husband, rest his soul, always told me not to buy the horse till you’d inspected its teeth.”
“I’m sorry?”
Mrs. Denison sat a little straighter and gave him a direct look. “I’m going to need to know just what you’d be paying me. And then there’s the benefits package. There is one, isn’t there?”
He leaned back, and the chair squeaked loudly. “Of course.”
“What about vacation?”
“Two weeks for the first three years, then three. After five years, you’ll be eligible for a month.”
She shook her head. “That won’t do. I’ll need four to start. I don’t ’spect I’ll need to go any higher than that, so don’t worry. We’ll just keep it at four from now on out.”
Bob suppressed a smile. “Anything else?”
His assistant looked past him to the window. “Those planes of yours—they ever take people?”
“We’ve got a fleet of corporate jets for hire. Those carry people.” He studied her with curiosity. “Why?”
“My husband’s got a brother—a stepbrother, actually, but he never thought of him as anything other than blood kin—and he’s over in Florida. Moved in with his son and daughter-in-law two summers ago. Greg—that’s his name—keeps asking me to bring Bliss down there to visit.” She leaned forward. “You figure my daughter and I might catch a ride down to Tampa on one of those planes? During my vacation time, of course.”
Bob pretended to consider it. “I think we might be able to work something out.”
She sat back. “I’m not hearing anything definite in that statement.”
“All right. Yes, once a year I will okay a flight to Tampa for you and Bliss.” He paused. “The jets generally hold eight, some of them twelve. Feel free to fill those empty seats.”
Her poker face slipped. “You serious?”
“I’m serious.” He rose and offered her his hand. “What do you say, Mrs. Denison? Will you accept the job as my assistant?”
“Don’t you want to see my work history? Maybe get some recommendations? ’Course I worked for my father-in-law—that’s Mr. Ben Denison—over at the sawmill until I met my husband, Mr. Ben’s younger son. I kept books for him and ran the office until Bliss came along. Once my husband took over for his daddy, Bliss and I started coming to work with him, and before I knew it, I was running that office again. I did that until the mill sold three years ago. It’s what he wanted, rest his soul, but I don’t believe my husband realized what he was doing when he asked me to part with that job.”
“All the more reason to take this one,” Bob said gently. “It’s yours as long as you want it, and I promise there are no plans to sell the place.” He paused. “In fact, I had hoped to pass it on to Amy someday. I don’t know if she’ll want it, but I pray she does.”
“Well, that’s a prayer I’ll join you in.”
“And joining the company? What’s your position on that?”
Mrs. Denison studied him a second longer, then nodded and shook on the deal. She climbed to her feet and straightened her sleeves, then headed for the door, her back straight as an arrow.
Pausing at the door, Bliss’s mother met his stare. “Mr. Tratelli?”
“Why don’t you call me Bob?” He paused. “Or Bobby’s fine, too.”
“All right. Bobby?” She ducked her head. “Do you realize how old I am?”
“I’m sure I could find out easily,” he said. “But I don’t think it matters.” He paused to offer a smile. “Do you?”
Once again, she fell silent. Her response was to press her finger to her lips and disappear into the lobby. A moment later, her voice came through the intercom. “Your conference call is ready for you on line two.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Denison.” Bob paused before reaching for the phone. “Thank You, Lord, for arranging this. I’m not sure what You’re up to, but I do pray You will keep me posted so I can do my part.”
An hour later, he hung up from the call and read over his notes, adding to them where he felt more information was needed. When he was done, he stuffed the information into the folder and set it aside.
A check of his watch revealed it was nearly ten thirty. He buzzed the front desk. “Mrs. Denison, has the wedding planner in Lafayette returned my call?”
“No, sir,” she quickly responded. “Do you want me to get them on the line?”
“Yes, please,” he answered. “It’s Divine Occasions on Ambassador Caffery.”
A few minutes later, she appeared at the door. “I’m sorry, boss. I had to leave a message.”
He nodded. “That’s odd, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Denison said. “Maybe they’re just busy.”
“Maybe.” He thought a moment. “What does my calendar look like for the rest of the day?”
“I’ll check.” She returned with the leather-bound planner. “Chamber of commerce luncheon at noon, tux fitting at three, and a meeting with your broker at five.” Her gaze lifted to meet his. “That’s it.”
“Cancel the fitting and reschedule the meeting with my broker for Tuesday.” He reached for his keys.
“Are you leaving?”
“I can’t just sit around waiting for the wedding planner to call me back. I’m going to drive over to Lafayette and pay them a visit. They can’t ignore me if I’m standing in front of them.” He paused to search her face, and she seemed troubled. “What? Do you think it’s a bad idea?”
“Well, not completely,” she said slowly. “Do you know what Amy’s plans were for the wedding?”
“They should be in the e-mails she sent me.”
Mrs. Denison nodded. “Hold on a second, and I’ll print them off.” In no time, she returned with a blue file folder. She thrust it toward him. “Something blue,” she said with a giggle.
“What?”
“You know,” she said, “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.”
“Oh, sure, got it.” He smiled. “So this has everything I need?”
Her nod was without enthusiasm. “What? You’re not telling me something. What is it?”
“Well, it’s just that I wonder whether you should go alone.” She paused. “What I mean is, sending a man by himself into a wedding planner’s offices is sort of like sending a woman into Sears to buy power tools. She might have a list, but will she really know what she’s looking at?”
“Hmm, I see your point.” He snagged his jacket. “That’s easily fixed. I’ll swing by and fetch Neecie. She’ll know what she’s looking at.”
“Sure,” Mrs. Denison said. Once again, her lack of enthusiasm was evident in her expression.
Bob paused at the door. “What?”
Mrs. Denison shrugged. “Oh, I was just wondering if Neecie would be willing to close up shop a second day to go running off to Lafayette. It’s so far.”
“Nah, it’s less than an hour. Besides, she and I go way back. I’m sure she’d be glad to help out an old friend.” Bob loped out of the office and climbed into the truck with a light heart. Tonight when Amy called, he’d have something positive to tell her. That alone made him smile.
Sure, he’d lost Yvonne to blue Hawaii—and he’d miss her terribly—but in the process, the Lord had brought Mrs. Denison to fill her absence. The truck rolled over the ruts on the parish road, then fishtailed onto the empty highway. Ten minutes later, he pulled to a stop in front of Wedding Belles and bounded to the door.
It was locked.
“Neecie,” Bob called as he pounded on the door. “Open up! It’s me, Bob.”
Shielding his eyes with his hand, Bob peered inside the depths of the darkened store. Please, Lord, Mrs. Denison’s right. I can’t do this on my own. Please provide someone. Anyone.
He resumed his pounding. “Neecie, come on,” Bob finally said. “I know you’re in there. You have to be. It’s Thursday. You can’t be gone.”
“But she is.”
Bob whirled around to see Bliss standing on the sidewalk. From the running shoes, sweatpants, and ponytail, he deduced she’d been to the gym. She tossed her cell phone into a small black purse and fished out a key on a large round ring.
“Where is she?”
Bliss shrugged and stabbed the key toward the lock. “No idea, but I’m beginning to get worried about her.” Several attempts later, Bob walked over and took the key from Bliss, fitting it into the lock on the first try.
“I know,” Bliss said as she accepted the key from him. “I’ve got an appointment for contacts next Tuesday.”
Any other time, he would have made a joke, possibly made light of the fact that she’d need to carry around her reading glasses until then. This, however was a desperate moment, and he was a man with little time to spare. Since the Lord didn’t see fit to bring Neecie back in time to go with him to Lafayette, He must have intended for Bliss to accompany him.
In light of the tangle of feelings Bob still hadn’t unraveled, Bliss was not his first choice. Obviously he and the Lord saw things differently.
Bob took in the woman’s appearance and shook his head. “Bliss, I’m in a hurry here. Get out of those clothes and climb into the truck.”