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Clara Harrington, owner of the Perky Pink Wedding Company, sat on an old ladder-back chair in a small room at the back of one of San Francisco’s oldest chapels. The historic building overlooked the Pacific Ocean. It was snubbed by many passersby because the outside was in need of a fresh coat of paint. But the inside still gleamed as Mrs. Mabel Green cared for it.
The Seabreeze Wedding Chapel had large windows in which to take in the breathtaking view. With the building sitting atop a cliff, looking out the windows at the front of the chapel, all you could see was the blue water of the Pacific Ocean. Talk about a stunning view. And only a remarkable setting would do for this very special event—an event Clara had been hired to plan down to the very last detail.
She glanced over at her client, Tula Fox, Hollywood’s latest sweetheart. She was easily spotted with her pixie-style purple and black hair as well as her signature heavy eye makeup. The young woman was in one of the two rooms at the back of the building.
Tula was barely twenty-two. And she was already working on her second marriage. Clara wondered if she had seemed as young at that age.
Clara jerked her thoughts to a halt. Nothing good would come of dredging up the past. She needed to focus on the here and now.
Tula was busy hunting for a wedding dress, but not any dress would do for such a special occasion. The groom was none other than the sexy Hugh Steadman, child-actor-turned-director. And he just happened to be Tula’s ex-husband.
Everyone was hoping this second trip down the aisle would stick, including Clara. She knew what it was like when things didn’t work out with the one you loved. When her thoughts strayed back to her ex, Andrew, as they did now and then, she jerked them back to the present.
With the paparazzi ravenous for any tips about Tula’s star-studded wedding, the details of the intimate nuptials had to be kept hush-hush. As such, none of the usual Hollywood hot spots would do for the ceremony and instead Tula had picked San Francisco for her wedding.
Clara had been nearly dumbstruck when Tula’s assistant had contacted her about arranging a private but beautiful wedding. And that’s when Clara thought of this chapel. She had stumbled across it when she’d first moved to San Francisco and had hosted other weddings there.
There was one tiny hitch with her plan, the chapel was about to go up for sale. Clara knew this was prime oceanfront property. It would be snapped up so fast that her head would spin. A developer would most likely level the chapel and put up oceanside condos. The thought of losing this sweet chapel with all of its charm and history saddened her.
She planned to speak with the owner, Mrs. Mabel Green, after this meeting with Tula to confirm that the property wouldn’t be sold before the wedding. If the worst happened, perhaps Tula would kick in some more money to persuade Mabel to delay the sale.
Clara pulled up a spreadsheet on her digital tablet while her friend and bridal boutique owner, Liza Howard, consulted with Tula. With this being a rushed wedding, everything had been a challenge, from reserving the venue to having little to no time to order a wedding dress. But Clara refused to be defeated.
“This won’t work!” Tula’s exclamation pierced the peaceful silence. “This wedding is a total disaster.”
What?Clara’s finger struck the wrong key on her tablet. She glanced up, hoping she hadn’t heard correctly. The frown on Tula’s pretty face said otherwise. Clara longed to tell her that she was being overly dramatic. The wedding was far from being a disaster. Clara pressed her lips together, holding back the rebuttal. Mentally, she counted to ten. This wasn’t her first difficult bride. Nor would Tula be her last. But this rising star was Clara’s most important client. It was imperative that she keep the bride happy.
She would make this work. She would. Somehow.
Clara glanced at Liza, whose long brown hair was twisted and clipped at the back of her head. Liza turned, meeting Clara’s gaze. The woman’s eyes widened, reflecting the worry churning within Clara. Liza didn’t say a word, as though not quite sure what to say in this tense moment.
Clara’s gaze moved to the bride, who stood on a platform in front of the single window in the room. The sunshine gleamed off the crystals strategically sewn into the dress. It was a magnificent sight. How could Tula not like it?
Clara swallowed down her anxiety, hoping when she spoke that she would evoke a soft and congenial tone. “The dress is beautiful. If you tell me the problem, maybe we can find a remedy?”
Tula turned her pleading eyes to Liza. “Are you sure you can’t get me an original dress?”
“I’d be glad to as long as you delay your wedding.”
Tula shook her head. “I can’t. The stress of keeping this a secret from the paparazzi is too much. I… I’m afraid Hugh is going to back out of the whole thing.”
“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine. We’ll find a way to make this your dream wedding.” Clara hoped her voice sounded confident. Would the groom really back out? She hoped not. She knew how that sort of rejection cut deep and left lasting scars. “What don’t you like about the dress?”
Tula glanced in the mirror, turning this way and that way. “The dress, it’s too frilly. Too puffy. And the shoes”—she kicked off the heels—“they’re not right. They’re not me.”
Really? Clara glanced down at the pink strappy heels. They were the most stunning shoes she’d ever laid her eyes on. She’d love to own a pair, but there was no way she could swing the staggering price tag that accompanied the designer shoes.
Clara moved forward and picked up the heels to examine them. “Are they too small?”
“No. They fit perfectly. But they’re the wrong color.” She pointed to her hair. “Purple’s my color. Besides, they’re… They’re too girlie.”
Girlie? Seriously?They were an exclusive, much-sought-after custom design. “I thought you liked the idea of making your wedding unique. They would certainly make a statement.”
“They would. But that was before.” The star’s shoulders sagged. “Hugh says he wants a more traditional wedding. Our first go-around was a funky wedding in Vegas with an Elvis impersonator, and we all know what a disaster that turned out to be. The marriage didn’t even last two months.” Tula sighed loudly. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe something more traditional will give us the luck we need to make this work.” Tula’s gaze met hers. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I… I don’t want to lose him again.”
“You won’t.” Clara didn’t know if that was true or not. Tula wasn’t an easy woman to keep up with. One minute she was demanding and rigid, the next moment she was vulnerable and insecure. It would be a lot to live with on a daily basis. “Okay. So pink shoes aren’t exactly traditional, but no worries, this can be fixed.” In the grand scheme of wedding planning, finding more traditional shoes for the bride would be a cakewalk. “I’ll send them back to the designer.”
“Thank them. And explain that we decided to go another direction.”
