Tuesday 2nd January

‘It’s off. The wedding; it’s cancelled,’ she sniffs down the phone.

Crap. I’ve barely gotten to my desk after the Christmas break and already I’ve got Miss Samson calling with a cancellation. I’ve never had this happen before. Especially with only a little over a month before the wedding. I suppose that’s shocking considering I’ve been doing this for over a year.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ I say as delicately as I can, ‘and you’re one hundred percent sure you want to cancel? You don’t want to have a think about it? You realise you’ll lose your deposit…’

I have heard the Christmas period is the most stressful time for couples. Thank God, I don’t have a stupid man to argue with.

‘Fuck the deposit!’ she snaps, so loudly I have to hold the phone away from my ear. ‘He’s been shagging his secretary. He gave me herpes! It’s as black and white as that.’

What a happy new year she’s having.

‘Oh dear. Well, okay. I’m so sorry. If I can find someone to take your place, I’ll speak to my boss about possibly refunding your deposit.’ It should be simple enough. We have a two-year waiting list.

‘Oh, Nadine,’ she sighs with another sniff. ‘I’m going to miss you. You’ve been so helpful. I feel as if we’ve become friends.’

‘Me too.’

I hope she doesn’t ask me out for a drink or anything. That would be weird. Of course, I come across as the perfect friend when she’s paying me, but I don’t have time in my life for another friend. I have enough trouble keeping up with the ones I have.

‘Well, thanks for everything, Nadine. Goodbye.’

Right. Some bride-to-be is going to have her day made and have her wedding on the 3rd February. I scan my hand down the list. A Miss Blumenkrantz and Mr Valentine. I punch in the numbers.

‘Hello,’ a female voice answers hastily, already sounding like I’m a PPI caller she’s eager to dismiss. Little does she know I’m about to make her year.

‘Hello Miss Blumenkrantz, I have some potential good news for you.’

* * *

Thursday 4th January

The couple are coming in today for our first meeting. It’s where I would usually learn more about them and get a general gist of how they want their wedding. But that’s when we're usually about two years in advance of the wedding. With just over a month to plan this, I’m going to have to go a bit more in depth and get this show on the road.

I look up at the sound of the door banging to see a tall blonde—only slightly shorter than me—waltz in with all the confidence in the world. She flicks her perfectly tousled hair behind her shoulder. She looks like a Hollywood movie star.

‘Hi, I’m Miss Blumenkrantz. I assume you’re Nadine?’ She starts undoing her double-breasted cobalt-blue coat. It looks expensive.

‘Yes.’ I stand and shake her hand, trying not to look intimidated. Wow, she nearly pulls my arm out of the socket. That’s one strong handshake. ‘Glad to meet you.’

‘The pleasure’s mine,’ she nods with a wide smile. ‘Call me Clara. I can’t tell you how happy I am that a date came up. Everyone is talking about this place.’

‘Yes,’ I nod. ‘We were named best wedding venue of 2017 by Confetti Bride,’ I add proudly.

‘I heard. My cousin actually owns the venue.’

I frown. ‘Your cousin? Do you mean Hugh?’

Hugh is my best friend, Florence’s, husband. They got married here themselves just a year ago on Christmas day and he surprised her by buying the place.

‘Yes, that’s him. Daddy prefers to keep our money in the family, so he’s over the moon Hugh bought the venue of my dreams.’

Daddy? God, she’s a posh bird. Generally, anyone over the age of eleven that still calls their dad "Daddy" is either rich or has mental health issues. Jesus, what a small world with Hugh being her cousin. I’ll have to be careful as fuck with this one. If anything goes wrong, Hugh will kick my arse. Of all the people on the waiting list I had to call his cousin to get married in a month.

I can’t help but notice that Mr Valentine’s not here yet.

‘I’m sorry, I thought you were bringing your fiancé too? I normally find it good to meet both of you. It gives me a better idea of you guys as a couple.’

She waves her hand towards the door. ‘He’s just parking the car. He’ll be in soon.’

As if right on cue, the door opens and in walks an absolute god of a man. That’s the only way to describe him. He’s got longish blonde hair, long enough to tie back into a roughly put up top knot that I would normally despise. Only he easily carries it off. He has the broadest shoulders I’ve ever seen and a jaw so square he could be made of Lego. Fuck me, he’s fit. Where the hell did she find him? He’s like a sexy Viking.

I quickly look down at my paperwork to hide my blushes. Of course, I’m used to meeting good looking men in this line of work, but this guy is like nothing else I’ve ever seen. He could be a model, but I doubt he is. He looks too manly to want to prance around in his underwear. What a shame for the UK population of women.

He doesn’t look her type. She’s posh and business-like, whereas he looks casual and strong. God, he could be a lumberjack with a body like that. I’d watch him take down a tree any day. Or take a look at his wood if you know what I mean. Jesus, how did my thoughts get so filthy so quickly?

‘Hey,’ he says to her, his voice low and husky.

Fuck, if it was possible to come from just hearing a voice I’d be screaming like a crazy person right now. I must really need to get some.

She pats the seat beside her. ‘Come on, darling. Nadine here was just talking to us about things.’

He juggles his keys and eventually puts them in his trouser back pocket before making himself comfortable on the chair. It’s only then that he looks at me. His eyes widen for a split second, as if shocked by something, but he quickly recovers. Do I have something in my teeth?

‘So, what kind of things?’ he asks, looking me dead in the eye. God, he’s got the most amazing forest-green eyes, with just a hint of hazel around the edges. I feel my body heat as they search my face.

Clearing my throat in a desperate attempt to pull myself together, I place my hands on the desk to try to stop them shaking.

‘I’d just like an idea of what you have in mind for your special day.’

He snorts and rolls his eyes. ‘Best ask my fiancée. She’s the one steaming ahead with it all.’

Steaming ahead with it all? They’ve been on the waiting list for over eight months. I’d hardly say that’s rushing things. Shame he sounds like a non-committal prick. I wonder if that's why she's not accepted a cancellation before now?

She protrudes her eyes at him, as if warning him to shut up, before quickly looking back to me with a smile.

‘What he’s trying to say, is that I’m handling all of the minor details. I’m thinking a black and white theme. Very glamourous, sophisticated. Almost art deco.’

I nod along, deliberately trying not to look at the sexy eyes on his glorious face. ‘Okay. That sounds like something we can do. I’ll just write down some particulars.’

‘Actually, I have a better idea,’ she interrupts.

What is it about this woman that tells me she’s going to be hard work? She’s high maintenance from the tip of her Louboutin’s to the top of her perfectly highlighted hair.

‘Really?’ I ask with a pleasant smile I long since learned to master.

She claps her hands together. ‘You simply have to come to our engagement party. That way you can see my sense of style for yourself.’

‘Oh... okay.’

I’m not used to clients inviting me out to things. Most of them have already celebrated their engagement by the time they come to me. It doesn’t really make sense that they’d only be having an engagement party now.

‘So, you’re just having an engagement party now, even though you’ve been engaged for...?’ I look around in my notes, but I don’t have that specific information.

‘We’ve only been engaged for a month,’ Mr Valentine says.

‘Oh.’ I frown. ‘It’s just that I’ve had you on the waiting list for eight months.’

He frowns back at me before turning to her. ‘What is she going on about?’

She rolls her eyes. ‘Well, naturally, darling, I suspected for a while now that you were going to propose. So, I just... made sure we were giving ourselves a fighting chance securing the place.’

‘Before I’ve even seen the venue?’ he asks, clearly horrified. ‘What if hated it?’

She rolls her eyes, a dismissing smile on her lips. ‘Sweets, it won best venue in 2017. What more is there to know?’

He drags his hand through his hair, clearly counting to ten. I get a feeling he does that a lot.

She smiles, pleased he’s been put to rest. ‘So, I’ll email you the details of the engagement party.’

I smile. What is it about this couple that tells me this isn’t going to be your normal wedding?