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“Another drink, Jazz?”Imogene asked.
Jazz shook her head. “I’m good. The food was delicious.”
Imogene smiled. “I’m so glad you liked it. Brooklyn?”
“I’m stuffed,” I admitted. “Let’s start talking about your wedding.”
Imogene nodded. “I’d never ask you to recreate someone else’s vision, so I think we need to start from scratch.”
“Tell me the theme and mood of the wedding.”
“Rose gold and cherry blossoms,” she said. She pulled out her phone and showed us pictures of the china and decor she had picked out.
“That’s beautiful,” Jazz breathed.
Imogene nodded. “I think so. We’re expecting five hundred guests, and they’re staying in town from Friday to Sunday. Most will be at hotels in the area, but the VIPs will stay here.”
“Five hundred people?” Jazz repeated.
Imogene blinked. “My mother wanted seven hundred and fifty guests, but I said no.”
“Right,” Jazz said. “Sure.”
“Friday night we have a sit-down rehearsal dinner, and then the wedding on Saturday, and then a Sunday brunch.” She looked at me expectantly.
“We can handle it,” I assured her, roughly trying to calculate the extra people I would have to hire to ensure we got it all done.
Imogene’s shoulders relaxed in a near-universal sign of relief.
“And just off the top of my head,” I said. “For the rehearsal dinner, I’m thinking crème brûlée cheesecake.”
“Done and done,” Imogene agreed.
I nodded. “And for the Sunday brunch, we’ll want to go light. Maybe something a bit different…a little variety. A lemon pudding pound cake, a banana caramel pudding, and a s’mores pudding.”
Imogene’s eyes glazed over. “Those sounddelicious.”
I pulled out my sketchbook and flipped open to a blank page. “This is just a rough idea of what I’m thinking about for the cake. The decor is so elegant, I think that keeping the cake simple yet classy is the way to do it. Don’t want to compete and wind up clashing.” I dug through my purse for a pencil and then began to sketch, not bothered by the watchful pairs of eyes. A few minutes later, I turned the sketchbook to Imogene.
“You think an embossed cake is simple?” she asked. “It’s genius.”
“I’ll use real cherry blossom as accents on the cake,” I added.
“Yes, approved, completely.” Imogene relaxed. “Wow, for the first time in three days, I can take a deep breath and not feel like I have to pop anti-anxiety medication.”
“I’m glad we can do this for you,” I said, meaning it. “One question for you…”
“Shoot.”
“Why are you handling all of this? Isn’t this the job of your wedding planner? I mean, no offense, but normally people with your kind of money have a wedding planner,” I said.
She smiled. “I used to be a wedding planner, and I knew no one would be able to plan my own wedding better than me. Ergo…”
“Ergo, you’re a control freak,” Jazz said with amusement. “Just like Brooklyn.”
“Hey,” I mock-whined.
Jazz raised her brows. “Seriously?”
