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“My family is a little crazy about togetherness, and it’s a lot for some people to take, so I understand his perspective. Oh god, why am I telling you all this?”
I dab my chin, managing to keep any more icing from dripping on my suit. “Because you’re stressed. And if you don’t mind me saying, a little bit rattled by that phone call. I’m sorry, but no groom should be causing his bride this much anxiety. And I’m sorry if I played a role in worsening that tension.”
The mask she puts on deflects any admission of feeling sad or hurt by her fiancé. “Yes, last-minute changes can stress people out. But I’m incredibly grateful to you, Bishop.”
“Speaking of those changes,” I say, “I’ve booked you with our resident wedding planner at 3 p.m. tomorrow to hammer out the details.”
Finally, Cherise’s shoulders go in the right direction: down, away from her ears. “Is there anything I can say except thank you? It doesn’t feel like enough.”
I can think of lots of things I’d love for her to say. Such as, I’m dumping that pain in the ass, Bishop. Have coffee with me, Bishop. Meet me under the bridal arch, Bishop. “How about you save a dance for me, Cherise.”
I say this too softly. Again, her eyes widen, and I sense her sucking in a breath. Then she laughs, assuming I’m joking. Cherise waves me out the door. “You’re too much. Now, shoo! Go enjoy your meeting!”
As I back out the door, I turn one last time to say to Cherise, “I hope he knows what a gem he’s got.”
Chapter Three
Cherise
Sometimes I meet someone who gets my taste right away, and I capture that same feeling I had when I met my childhood best friend.
That’s what meeting the wedding planner, Henrietta, feels like. Her office at Orchid feels very cozy and fun, yet classy. On the walls are large portraits from various weddings that have taken place at Orchid under her direction, all of them showing ecstatically happy couples.
Henrietta and I had our first meeting last week and hit it off right away. Today, we’re talking about a theme for the wedding decor.
As soon as I spotted Henrietta’s three-ring binder dedicated to a Midsummer Night’s Dream wedding, I started salivating. She sees the look on my face and clutches the binder to her chest. “I have always wanted to do this theme, and you are the perfect candidate for it. You are going to love this.”
Flipping through the pictures of flowers, bunting, curly willow, trees, fairy lights, and decorations featuring fairy wings, I know she’s right.
“This is the perfect fairytale wedding for you. Get this: we can decorate with tiny cooing lovebirds in all the trees. Now, I see the look on your face, and I know what you’re thinking. What if they fly around and poop in the champagne? But here’s the thing. They are WIRELESS.”
Poop is not where I thought this was going. “You mean…”
Henrietta is a force to be reckoned with. “Yep! Bluetooth robot birdies that flit around in time to the music.”
I gape at the pictures. “That’s so Disney! And they look so real!”
She claps her hands. “I know! I knew you would go for it. Oh my god, I’m so excited!”
It tears a piece of my heart out to disappoint Henrietta because she’s so excited. And so right about me. “I’m so sorry. Augie and I aren’t really fairytale lovebird people. He won’t go for it. We are thinking more traditional.”
Without missing a beat, she looks at me, nods, turns away, and places the binder into a file cabinet. She simply pulls out a different one and turns back to me, all smiles. I’m taken aback by how she turns on a dime, refusing to make me feel bad about a different choice. “Okay, we have this,” she says, shoving a binder with the words “Basic package” on it.
“Wow,” I say with a laugh. “If that doesn’t describe Augie and me, I don’t know what does.”
Henrietta gives me a surprised look.
I explain, “We’ve been together a long time, and I’m the last one of five sisters to get married. All of my other sisters got married in whirlwind romances, even my youngest sister. Marriage is the logical next step. We’re both about to turn 30, after all. The clock’s ticking, and we both want kids when the time is right. That’s something we’ve always agreed on. He’s not flashy, but he’s very reliable. I know exactly what to expect from him.”
She leans forward and pours herself a cup of hot tea, and offers me one. “How did you two meet?”
I sip my tea and explain that Augie and I were friends in high school. We’d gotten together after our five-year class reunion when he’d heard about my struggles to make ends meet after graduating with my degree in pastry arts. He asked me out, and we’ve been a couple ever since.
Henrietta nods. “It’s good to be friends first, I agree,” Henrietta says, a little too diplomatically. Why do I get the feeling that secretly she’s not super into Augie and me as a couple?
“Wait until you meet him. He’s hilarious,” I say. “I think that’s so much more important than someone who makes your heart pound.”
Henrietta lifts an eyebrow. “Well, as long as he knows how to make your headboard pound, am I right?”
