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At my expense.
I collapse against the door as soon as it’s closed and look over at Janey, who shrugs.
“Seriously? Couldn’t come up with something better than a threesome?”
“Hey, don’t talk, Miss Newlywed.” I glare, and she waves her hand in front of her face. “Seriously, don’t talk. I know we’re in a hurry, but you could’ve at least brushed your teeth. Here.”
She hands me a mint and we run out the door.
11:14 and counting.We split up, Janey raiding the coolers for flowers while I head to the Azure Ballroom to see what we’re working with.
I’m counting tables and analyzing the photographer’s setup when Meredith approaches.
“Flower girl, you seem to have forgotten the most important part of your job,” she sneers.
“Janey is bringing the arrangements. I’m organizing my plan.” I tap my temple. “We’ll be ready.”
Janey comes through the doors a moment later with a cart full of beautiful blooms. “See?” I tell Meredith, pleased with myself and Janey for meeting the ridiculous timeline of this surprise shoot.
“Eleven thirty-three is not the same as eleven thirty, Miss Andrews.”
Fuck, there is no pleasing this woman.
“Excuse me,” I say coldly. I don’t wait for her to dismiss me or discuss my shortcomings further. I beeline to Janey and hiss, “Let’s get this done before I kill her.”
The photographer’s assistant is actually here, and she’s more than helpful. With clear, short commands and a willingness to get her own hands into the flowers, we get the staging done in record time, including trimming the petals off over two dozen roses to scatter them on a large white backdrop.
Just in time, too, because Cole, flanked by a bunch of makeup people and the main photographer, comes in. Without even acknowledging my work, they get started, having Cole pose in three different ‘sets’ while the photographer goes crazy with the shutter.
“Okay, one more,” the photographer says before looking over his shoulder at me for the first time. “We’ll need the flowers reset for Claire. You can get those done now.”
Janey and I get to work, re-scattering the petals and resetting the arrangements that were moved while Cole has his last shots taken.
Then he’s done, disappearing as quickly as he came in. I can feel the entire room take a breath, relaxing for a short moment before we go again.
Claire comes in the same way Cole did, with an entourage. But where Cole had been all business, Claire is warm and friendly, talking to people and signing autographs before she gets situated for the shoot.
She really is . . . nice. The word seems so bland, but it’s the truth. Claire is a bit of a princess and appreciates the finer things in life, but she’s worked hard to enjoy that privilege and hasn’t forgotten where she came from. I can understand why she has so many fans and such a rabid following.
“All done, Claire,” the photographer says.
“Awesome!” she says with a true smile. “Thank you so much, everyone! Only one more day until I’ll be Mrs. Claire Johnson-Kennedy!” She squeals happily and we all smile in return.
As she leaves, Janey and I get to work once more. We need to load up the arrangements that are salvageable and get them back to the cooler for some TLC and make new plans for the rehearsal dinner arrangements minus what we’ve lost.
“What was up with the last-minute photo shoot, anyway? Did you hear anything?” I ask Janey.
She shakes her head. “I swear I looked at the schedule. You know I did. We both did. And this little shindig wasn’t on it.”
Janey’s eyes narrow as she looks around, and I follow her gaze, seeing the staff, staging, and setup. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen on the fly. We should’ve known about it.”
I agree. And that worries me. I know Meredith seems to have it out for me, but would she really ruin Claire’s wedding week by ‘forgetting’ to tell me about an event?
I can’t believe she’d be that unprofessional. But . . .
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a blonde head, but before I can see who it is, the head’s gone, and I’m left wondering if I just wandered into a telenovela or something.
Or maybe I’m just stressed and going crazy?
“Abi?” Janey asks, tapping me on the shoulder. “You okay?”
“Um, yeah,” I murmur, picking up my water sprayer to refresh a few petals. I don’t say anything, but I swear that blonde head reminded me of Emily. But why would she be here? Was she spying on the famous celebrity wedding? Or on me? “I think I’m going to go talk to that photographer’s assistant and confirm that our schedules line up. I want you to follow up with that resort manager too. He should have a full breakdown of what spaces are being used, at what time, and what for.”
