Chapter 1
Marian
Dear Marian,
We’re sorry to put you in the middle, but my mother and mother-in-law are driving us crazy. My fiancé and I have no input over anything, and we feel as if this is their wedding. They are the ones making all the major decisions without consulting us. We are very tempted to call everything off and fly to Vegas. Help.
Susan.
I quickly type a reply to Susan, promising to have a word with her mother and mother-in-law. It’s not an uncommon problem with something as big and emotionally explosive as a wedding. Emotions run high, and everyone forgets that it’s about the couple and no one else. It’s my job to gently remind everyone involved to focus on making the wedding a success for the couple.
I hit send and sit back to admire my empty inbox. Not that it’s going to stay empty for long. As a wedding planner, my inbox is perpetually full, and moments like this, when I manage to respond to all my messages, are to be savored.
I shift my gaze from the screen and realize how dark it has become outside. Startled at the sudden darkness, I check the time. Seven. I curse under my breath. My best friends, Jason and Brooke are coming to my new house for dinner at seven-thirty.
This means that I have thirty minutes to figure out what we’ll eat, where it will come from, and then get home and take a shower.
I simultaneously reach for my phone and turn off my computer. I find Ann’s number easily enough, and I hit call. She runs a seafood restaurant on Pathway Street, which luckily, is on my way home. My job as a wedding planner also means that I know most of the vendors in and around LA, which comes in super handy a lot of the time.
“Hi there,” I say when she answers the phone.
We exchange a few pleasantries, and then I tell her my current predicament. “Would you believe that I have guests in thirty minutes, and I haven’t prepared dinner?”
Her laugh shakes the phone. “Why am I not surprised?”
“It’s a good thing that my clients don’t see how disorganized I am in my personal life,” I say with a laugh.
“The only reason why you feel that way is that you give a hundred percent to your work,” Ann says.
“That’s why I love you. You always make me feel better—in addition to your awesome food, of course.”
She chuckles before her tone becomes all business. “Now, what would you like to order?”
I rattle off my favorite dishes from the seafood menu, which I know by heart, and when I’m done, she promises that it will be ready in 20 minutes. Perfect. It will take me that much time to drive to the restaurant.
That done, I go through the motions of closing down the office for the day. The outer office is an open plan arrangement with two other desks, belonging to my two assistants, Kimberly and Eric. They are awesome, and I honestly don’t know how Lilly’s Love Wedding Planners would run without them.
I grab my bag and head down the stairs that lead straight out onto the street. I glance next door and shake the door of the boutique. It’s a habit I formed when I moved upstairs and left my girls to run the boutique. Every evening after work, I always check if the doors are locked.
That done, I stroll down the street to my car. Minutes later, I’m driving toward Pathway Street to pick up dinner.
Ann has my food packed by the time I get there, and all I have to do is pay.
“You’re the best,” I tell her as I blow her a kiss and leave the restaurant.
The scent of the food teases my nostrils, and the rumble of hunger in my stomach reminds me that I missed lunch.
My new house is in Pine Place, a nice community of upscale homes built on a hill overlooking the city. It never fails to give me a thrill when I’m at my driveway, staring at my two-story house. It’s surrounded by a quarter acre of manicured grass that the community association takes care of.
Today, there is no time to pause and admire it. I have ten minutes to set the table and take a shower before Jason and Brooke arrive for dinner. From past dinner dates with them, I know they are sticklers for time, and they will be here at exactly seven-thirty.