Three Girls And A Wedding (2 page)

Chapter Two

It took forever to get out of the
house. Three girls getting ready was never going to be a fast process. By the
time we were all
tarted
out and Ginny had kissed the
baby about a million times—and instructed Josh on how to deal with every
tiny detail of Danny’s night—it was nearly nine.

“Where to, ladies?” Ginny asked, as
she maneuvered out of the driveway. One great thing about Ginny having a baby:
so long as she was breastfeeding, she had to keep her drinking to an absolute
minimum. Annie and I had had a built-in DD for more than a year.

“I’m starving,” Annie said. “Where
can we go that has food?”

“There’s that place in Royal Oak,”
Ginny said. “You know, the Spanish one. They do dancing, don’t they?”

“Yeah,
salsa
dancing,” I replied.

“Well, that sounds fun!”

“Ginny, do you have any idea how to
salsa dance?” I demanded.

“No, but how hard can it be?
Besides, they serve sangria there. Sangria makes everything easier.”

“And more fun,” Annie agreed
seriously.

I laughed. “Alright, salsa dancing
it is.”

Finding parking in popular Royal
Oak on a Friday night was no easy feat, but Ginny got lucky, and in no time at
all we were settling into a tiny table in the bustling restaurant. We could
hear the salsa beats and energetic conversation of the dancers emanating from
the second floor, but it was quiet enough downstairs to carry on a
conversation. I looked over the menu and immediately knew that we were going to
make huge pigs out of ourselves. This restaurant specialized in tapas, little
plates of food perfect for sharing. There were at least half a dozen things I
wanted to try, and I had a feeling I would before the night was over.

We put in our order and the waiter
brought us a pitcher of Sangria. It was heavenly. Annie and I gulped down a
full goblet within minutes.

“So, Jen,” Annie began as she
poured herself a refill. “What’s the deal with that Jim guy?”

“There is no deal with Jim,” I
said. “It was only four dates. Nothing came of it.”

“But he was so cute!” Ginny
exclaimed.

I shrugged, trying to avoid their
eyes.

“Okay, what?” Annie demanded.

“What, what?” I asked, trying to
play innocent.

“I know that look, Jen. There’s
something you’re not telling us. What is it? Was he a secret cross- dresser?
Did he have a collection of porcelain animal figurines at home?”

I rolled my eyes but refused to
answer.

“Was he a civil war re-enactor?”
Ginny supplied. “Did he sleep with a teddy bear because it was a gift from his
mommy?”

“Did he wear a banana hammock to
the beach?” Annie asked seriously.

I choked on my sangria as Ginny
started laughing. “Or did he have a Winnie the Pooh tattoo on his ass?” she
asked.

We were all cracking up now. “Okay,
okay,” I groaned. “I’ll tell you. But it isn’t nearly as funny as any of that.
He was a terrible kisser.”

Annie made a face. “That sucks.
Well, you made the right choice then.”

“Come on,” Ginny argued. “There was
nothing you could have done? Maybe talked to him, or given him time to learn
from your example?”

“No way,” Annie said firmly. “Bad
kissing is a deal breaker.”

Ginny looked dubious.

“Gin, every time he kissed me I had
a layer of spit a full inch around my lips.”

They both squealed.

“
Eww
!”
Ginny cried.

“You’re telling me,” I muttered.
“It was disgusting.”

Ginny looked sadly down at her
empty glass. “I wonder how much it would actually hurt Danny if I got really
drunk tonight…”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the
hopeful look in her eyes. “Do you have any milk in the freezer?” Ginny used a
pump so that Danny would have milk when she was at work or when Josh was
watching him.

Her entire face lit up. “Oh my God,
that’s it!” she exclaimed. “I have, like, a week’s worth of backup! I can
totally get smashed tonight!” She looked like a little kid on Christmas morning.

“How are we
gonna
get home?” Annie asked.

“Josh can pick us up,” Ginny said,
unconcerned, as she quickly filled her wine glass.

“Won’t Danny be asleep by then?”
Annie was making a face, I’m sure in reaction to the idea of spending time in a
car with Josh.

“If Josh is careful he can get him
into the car seat without waking him,” Ginny said. Catching the look on Annie’s
face she quickly continued. “Annie, I don’t give a shit, okay? I haven’t been
drunk in a year and a half. I’m going to drink as much sangria as I want.” As
if to prove her point, she knocked back half the glass in one gulp.

I laughed. “Let her have fun,
Annie,” I suggested. “When’s the last time we did this?”

“Well,” Annie muttered, refilling
her glass and raising it for a toast. “I guess if you can’t beat ’
em
, join ’
em
!”

Chapter Three

“Jen, can you come into my office
please?”

It was Monday morning and I had
barely settled myself at my desk when the slightly husky voice of my boss,
Jacqueline, boomed from the speaker on my phone.

I set the files I was carrying down
on the ever-growing pile on my desk with a sigh. I wasn’t really in the mood
for Jacqueline first thing in the morning, and I had a lot of work to get
through. But I knew from experience it wouldn’t be worth it to be late, so I
grabbed my coffee and headed down the hall.

Jacqueline was sitting behind her
desk, talking rapidly to someone on the phone. When I first met Jacqueline
Weinberger, I was incredibly intimidated. She’s a very tall woman, at least six
foot, and strikingly thin. Her features are dark, harsh. She wears her black
hair in a severe bob—I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single hair out of
place. Jacqueline has a way of looking at you that makes you feel like she can
read your mind. It’s not pleasant. Now, nearly two years after being hired, I
still found myself ridiculously intimidated in her presence.
 

Jacqueline motioned for me to sit
down across from her as she barked orders into her phone. “You need to find out
who they’re using,” she said into the receiver. “No, I don’t care about
that…No. Just find out who they’re using, I can take it from there.
Okay…Thanks.” She hung up and looked at me, sighing.

“We’re getting to the busy season,
huh?” I asked, smiling.
       

“It would certainly seem that way.
Now, Jen, tell me what accounts you’re working on in the next three months.”

I was caught off guard. “Well,
there’s the Jenkins engagement party…the gallery opening…that leukemia benefit.
And there’re a few small birthday parties coming up.” As I spoke Jacqueline
made notes in her ledger.

“Good, good,” she murmured, picking
up a large, leather-bound file. “All of those can be redistributed out.”

I felt a spasm of fear clutch my
stomach. Why was she redistributing my accounts?

“Why,” I began, but my throat had
gone quickly dry. I cleared it and tried again. “Why do you need to take me off
my accounts?”

“Jen, an opportunity has come up
that I think would be perfect for you.” She looked at me over the file in her
hand. “But it will be rather time-consuming, so we’ll need to clear your
schedule.”

“What’s the event?”

“Are you familiar with David
Barker?”

“Of course,” I replied, nodding. “I
mean, I’ve heard of him, obviously.” David Barker was one of the wealthiest and
most prominent businessmen in Detroit. He had risen to fame by developing a
myriad of the city’s abandoned and derelict buildings into posh restaurants and
hotels. His revitalization efforts had not only garnered him a huge amount of
respect locally, they had made him wealthy—seriously, seriously wealthy.

“His only daughter is getting
married,” Jacqueline said. “And they’ve contracted us to handle the entire
event—engagement party, shower, rehearsal dinner, wedding. All of it.”

My heart started to thump rapidly
against my ribcage. Could she possibly be asking me…?

“Of course, we’re very pleased to
have acquired this client. It’s a major coup for us.” There was a glint in
Jacqueline’s eye, and her voice shook ever so slightly. Wow. This must be a
huge contract. I automatically began running through numbers in my head, and
very nearly didn’t hear her as she continued.

“We’re giving the account to
Jason.”

Damn. Damn, damn,
damn
. I should have known it was too
good to be true. What had I been thinking? Of course they weren’t going to give
me a contract of this caliber. I was a lowly junior executive.

“However,” Jacqueline continued.
“As he is just starting out in his new position, and since this is such an
important event, we wanted to be sure that he had a strong number two to help
him. I think you would be perfect for the job.”

Hmm. I hadn’t been partnered with a
senior executive on an account in a long time. That was usually a position
given to the junior staff, the people just starting out. But Jacqueline was
right—this was a huge opportunity. And it was in
weddings
.

I would deny this fact if it ever
got out, but the truth was, I loved weddings. Adored them.

My friends considered me the
sophisticated one in our group, the collected, grounded girl with the fancy
job. The type of person who would prefer to work on glam parties, club
openings, that kind of thing. But they were wrong.

When it came to weddings, I was a
big old softie. I couldn’t help it. I loved everything about them—the
dress, the flowers, the promise of true love. No one knew this, not even Annie
and Ginny, but sometimes, when I’d had a really bad day, I’d stop at the drug
store on my way home and buy as many bridal magazines as I could get my hands
on. Then I’d shut myself up in my room and devour every detail.
 

The entire reason I got into event
planning was so that someday I would get to plan weddings, maybe even start my
own little firm.

And this sure sounded like it would
be the wedding of the year.

“Of course,” I said to Jacqueline.
“Of course, I would love to be a part of Jason’s team.”

“Good,” she said. “Oh look, here’s
Jason now.”

I looked over my shoulder and saw
Jason Richardson standing in the doorway to Jacqueline’s office. Jason was
good-looking, there’s no point denying that. His dark blond hair was, as ever,
artfully and carefully tousled. Jason dressed impeccably and always seemed to
have a tan. Amanda and I had wondered, on many occasions, whether this was the
effect of spending many hours outside or many hours in a tanning booth. We had
a feeling it was the latter.

A lot of the newer girls in the
office had a crush on Jason. I suppose I could see why; he did have a great
body and a flirtatious nature. Plus, as one of the few straight guys in our
line of work, he stood out. In my experience, however, most of the crushes
petered out the longer you worked here—that is to say, the more you got
to know what he was really like.

“Hey, Jackie,” Jason said, entering
the office and coming around next to her, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “You
look great today.”

I had a hard job refraining from
rolling my eyes. This is what Jason was like 24/7, at least to the people he
thought could get him somewhere. He acted like everyone was his best friend,
like everyone would naturally be thrilled to be graced with his presence. Gag.

“I’ve just been filling Jen here in
on the account,” Jacqueline said, a slight flush on her neck. Oh, good Lord.
What was she, fourteen?

“This is a pretty big shot for you,
Jennifer,” Jason said, winking at me.

“I’m very grateful for the
opportunity.” I tried to sound pleasant, though I would have desperately loved
to flip him off for his condescension.

“Well, familiarize yourself with
the file,” Jason said. “We meet with the client for dinner tomorrow, seven
p.m.”

“Sounds great,” I said, reaching
out for the file as I stood. “I’ll get right on this.”

I began to head toward the door,
but Jason stopped me. “I’d like a ten page summary of your initial ideas by
tomorrow morning.”

Inwardly, I groaned. It was common
practice to come up with a list of ideas prior to a client meet up, but ten
pages was way excessive. I hadn’t even met the bride yet.

“Sure, Jason,” I said sweetly. “No
problem.”

***

I spent the rest of the morning
reading the file. Jacqueline wasn’t messing around with this one. There were
bios here on each member of the family, info on their numerous businesses and
financial holdings, even descriptions of various events they had thrown over
the years.

From what I could tell, this
wedding was going to cost well over a million dollars.

My phone rang at around noon. “Jen
Campbell speaking,” I answered briskly.

“Hi,
hon
,
it’s me.”

“Hey, Annie,” I said, relaxing back
in my chair. “What’s up?’”

“I’ve got to get out of the office
for a little while.
Wanna
get lunch?”

“God, yes.” Annie worked about ten
minutes away from me, in a tiny theater where she taught drama classes to
kids—and occasionally got to actually act in productions. “Where should
we meet?”

“I’ll come to you,” she replied.
“We can eat at that place across the street.”

“Sounds great. See you in ten?”

“Perfect.”

Ten minutes later I slipped out of
the bustling lobby. I really didn’t want to run into Jason. It was common for
everyone to head out for lunch—it was a great time for client
schmoozing—but I didn’t feel like letting him know I wasn’t having a
working lunch. It would only add to his condescension.