Zoe stared at the rumpled man in front of her. She could feel her eyebrow twitch with annoyance as she took in his careless style, his bedhead hair, his sleepy half-lidded eyes that ran up her long, lean legs beneath her tight skirt. It was the kind of look a girl would dream about waking up next to, but at that moment, it was Zoe’s nightmare.
“You’re not Levi Dolson,” she said.
He arched a pierced eyebrow. “I’m not?”
“You can’t be. The Levi Dolson I’m expecting is a groomsman in a wedding. Not a candidate for a sleep study.”
He ran a self-conscious hand over the stubble on his square jaw. “Hey, give me a break. I just woke up half an hour ago. At least I brushed my teeth.”
“Too bad you forgot your hair,” she said, only half-jokingly. The other half was dead serious. This was the last thing she needed. “Late night?”
“You could say that.” He grinned, and Zoe assumed it might have had something to do with the cherry red lipstick mark still bright on his cheek. “You gotta grab life by the balls while you can, right?”
“Looks like it wasn’t just life that had its balls grabbed last night.”
His forehead creased with confusion. Zoe dug into her bridal utility bag and pulled out a makeup remover to-go cloth.
She waved it in question. “May I?”
He nodded so she reached up and wiped the red smudge off his cheek. She showed it to him, and he kind of shrugged sheepishly.
“Nice shade,” she said with a smirk.
Reaching back into her bag, she pulled out a travel hairbrush. She held it up. After he nodded, she began styling his hair as best she could. It was a nice mix of honey and caramel. The sides were faded short but there was plenty of length on top to give it some style.
“Why are you so late?” she asked. “Were you planning on sleepwalking down the aisle in your Snoopy slippers?”
“I don’t have Snoopy slippers. I’m a man, not a child. I have Batman slippers,” he chuckled. “Besides, I only got Owen’s text forty minutes ago that he wanted me to fill in. I came right away.”
“But you were supposed to be a guest. Why weren’t you already here, and”—she gave his curls a final ruffle to add some life—“showered?” She nodded appreciatively at his hair. He had nice locks—if only he’d done them before he came.
“Let me see?” He pretended to think. “Attend the stressful wedding of a guy I knew back in university or sleep in after a late night? Tough call. Besides, I was going to attend the reception. No big deal.”
“Well, it’s a big deal to the bride and groom. And it’s a big deal to me. You’re pushing us dangerously behind schedule.” She checked her watch again. She couldn’t stand tardiness.
Levi’s attention suddenly shifted, following the path of something sailing over Zoe’s head. The nerve of this guy, she thought. He wasn’t even paying attention to her. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he figured out exactly what he wanted to say.
“Are there more birds in this church than usual, or is it just me?”
Zoe gasped. “Crap. The doves.” Spinning on her heel, she raced for the front entrance. “Come on!” she called over her shoulder. “We need to take a detour, and I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
On the way by a replica painting of the Last Supper, she spotted Juliet’s half-cut uncle slouched in a velvet chair. She stopped at the refreshment table in the corner and filled a Styrofoam cup with black coffee.
“Oh, that’s awesome,” Levi said. “I could really use a cup.”
As he reached for it, Zoe swiped it out of his grasp. “If you wanted coffee, you should have woken up earlier. There’s no time.”
He gave her a pathetic pout. Despite how vexed she was with him at the moment, Zoe laughed, but she didn’t relent. Although, that playful look did make her waver a little.
Zoe snuck up on Uncle Wally slouched over in his chair and wrestled the flask out of his hands before he could fight back. “I think you’ve had quite enough of that.”
His bloodshot eyes opened half-way, blinking out of sync before landing on her chest. “But I’m celebrating,” he whined.
“Save the celebrations for later. They’re not married yet.” She handed him the coffee and a Tic-Tac from her utility bag.
Zoe mentally ticked that item off her to-do list and returned her focus to the top priority.
As she weaved through the last guests filtering into the stuffy church to take their seats, Levi tugged on the neck of his T-shirt.
“Why is it so hot in here?”
“Air conditioning is broken,” she said, trying her best not to sprint out the front doors as she saw another dove soar by.
“And they’re still having the wedding here? Don’t they know there’s a heat wave going on right now?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re pretty sharp for a man who just woke up at the crack of mid-day.”
Descending the steps, she took the paved path to a nook at the side of the building where she was keeping the caged doves until the end. As she rounded the corner, her eyes fell on a small devil in lace and braids, disguised as an adorable six-year-old flower girl. And she was reaching for the latch on the next birdcage.
Zoe fixed her with a hard stare. “And what do you think you’re doing?”
The girl jumped and blinked up at Zoe. “They were sad,” she explained. “They wanted to come out and play.”
“But they will come out and play right after Juliet and Owen get married,” she said. “You’ll see.”
But the flower girl jiggled the latch impatiently like that sounded way too long. “But I want to play with them now.”
Zoe crouched down, ready to spring into action if she opened it. “You can even help let them out if you want. How does that sound? Hmm? Help create the grand finale?”
“Grand finale?” She eyed Levi like she smelled a trick. After a moment of serious consideration, the flower girl nodded.
Zoe clapped her hands together. “Great! Why don’t we find you some cake to keep you busy for a while?”
The girl’s eyes lit up. “Cake!”
There were already seven tiers on the oversized cake. She was sure Juliet wouldn’t miss one little piece. “If I get you some cake, do you promise to behave and carry the flowers down the aisle like we talked about?”
“Uh-huh,” she said around the drool forming.
“Do you think she could really use more energy?” Levi muttered.
Zoe snorted. “No, but I just need to get through the next”—she checked her watch—“twenty-four minutes until the ceremony begins. One thing at a time.”
Taking the girl by the hand, Zoe led her around the side of the building to the parish hall where the reception tables were set up for dinner. She made sure Levi was following behind. “Sorry. This won’t take long.”
“No rush. I’ve got nowhere to be.”
Zoe glared at him over her shoulder and saw his mischievous grin. Was he actually egging her on at a moment like this? Did he take anything seriously? This was a wedding. It was supposed to be the best day of the bride’s and groom’s lives, and he was acting like it was, well, no big deal.
But it was a big deal. Her entire job was to organize “big deal” celebrations.
“Cake!” the girl demanded.
“Okay, okay.” Zoe steered her toward the kitchen at the end of the hall. “The cake is just in here.”
But when she swung the door open, she got a lot more cake than she’d anticipated. Red velvet with cream cheese icing to be exact. Right in the face.
Zoe’s head whipped to the side like she’d been slapped. The cream cheese icing slid down her cheek and onto her silk blouse. She blinked the sponge cake from her eyelashes in surprise.
“What the hell?”
The flower girl gasped. “You said a bad word.”
“You did say a bad word,” Levi said in mock seriousness.
Zoe scowled at him. “What?”
The little girl grinned, and yelled, “Hell!”
“Don’t say that.” Zoe pinched the bridge of her nose. This day was so not going according to plan.
Then Levi got a look inside the kitchen and he said, “Holy crap.”
“Crap!” the girl cried.
Zoe glared across the kitchen at the father of the groom—or FOG, for short. Wedding cake coated his right hand, the frosting smeared up to the elbow of his suit jacket. By the looks of the mangled fifteen hundred dollar seven-tiered cake, he’d tried a few times to hit his target: the MOB, or mother of the bride. She, however, was relatively cake free but for a few globs of icing that clung to her permed hair.
“I’m so sorry,” the FOG told Zoe. “I didn’t mean to.” Then he frowned and spun toward the MOB. “This is all your fault. You’d drive a priest insane!”
She was a short woman but somehow seemed to grow taller with her fury at the balding man. “The way you drove my daughter insane? Her ten-thousand-dollar dress won’t fit now because of you.”
“Because of me?” His laugh sounded like a forced bark. “I didn’t force feed her all that ice cream. Just because she has no will power—”
“Will power?” she screeched. “This wasn’t her fault. It was all stress induced.”
“Yeah, stress induced by your crazy family.” He jabbed an accusing cream-cheesy finger at her.
“We’re crazy? We’re crazy!?” Her eyes bulged. “I’ll show you crazy!”
She grabbed the engraved cake knife from the tray while Mr. Wells scooped a chunk from the next tier of cake and balled it up in his hands.
Zoe lunged between them. “Whoa! Whoa! That’s enough.”
They froze at the tone in her voice, eyes darting from their enemy to Zoe and back again. Neither seemed ready to be the first to lay down their weapon and yield.
Levi hovered close by, but stayed out of it. Maybe because he was afraid of Zoe too. Or maybe because he knew what was good for him, she thought.
“This day is not about you or how much you hate each other.” Zoe’s sharp gaze darted between the two of them. “This day is about your children and their happiness. So if you aren’t willing to support them or be quiet witnesses of their love and happiness today, then you can leave.”
Mrs. Fisher still glared, looking scarily like her daughter when she was mad—which was all the time. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the knife tightened.
“And if you don’t leave. I’ll call the cops,” Zoe added. “Now give me the knife.” Zoe held out her hand.
Mrs. Fisher seemed to come to her senses and stared down in surprise, like the hand still clenching the knife belonged to someone else. After a moment, her fist relaxed and she passed the two-hundred-dollar cake knife to Zoe.
Zoe took a deep breath as she set it aside. Another potential crisis averted. She turned to Mr. Wells. “Now you go wash up. The bride is about to walk down the aisle in exactly”—she checked her watch—“seventeen minutes.”
“Cake!” the flower girl cried.
Zoe spun in time to watch the girl ram a fist into the bottom layer of the cake. She pulled out a clump to shove in her face, effectively destroying what was left of the red velvet monstrosity.
Levi stared at the ruins. “Maybe you can still save it. You could, like, put a flower here.” He pointed. “And here. And here.” He swiped a finger over the icing and licked it off. “If it’s any consolation, it tastes great.”
Sighing, Zoe pulled out her phone to scroll through her list of cake bakers. When she found one, she sent Natalie a text to order an emergency replacement cake from Gimme Some Sugar Shop.
“Mrs. Fisher, can you please take the flower girl and get her cleaned up and to the doors ASAP?”
The MOB nodded and began to herd the sticky girl with two fists full of cake out of the kitchen. Before the doors shut behind them, Zoe remembered to yell out, “And keep her away from those birds!”
Zoe checked her watch again, but Levi placed a hand over it before she could see. “Don’t worry. It will all work itself out.”
“Work itself out?” She gaped at him. “Things don’t just work themselves out because you want them to. Things will work out because I make sure they do. I have everything under control. I am in complete control,” she said, as though to convince herself.
Without thinking, her hand found its way into her bridal utility bag. As her fingers brushed fur, her shoulders relaxed. When Levi began staring at her a little strangely, she pulled her hand out, afraid he’d discover her secret. But he continued to give her a funny look. Something between amusement and, well, she wasn’t sure what.
His hand rose to her face, and she flinched away. She hadn’t realized she’d taken a step until her back hit the refrigerator.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He chuckled but closed the gap between them. Pressing herself against the fridge, she recoiled as his hand caressed her cheek. She felt his thumb gently brush her skin. It was a little rough, but his touch was warm and gentle.
When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open. She wasn’t sure when she’d closed them.
Belatedly, she slapped his hand away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He showed her his thumb. It was white with cream cheese icing. “You still had cake on your face.”
His smiling eyes held hers as he sucked the icing off. Her gaze fell to his lips as he did it, watching the way his mouth moved around his thumb. The thumb that had been touching her a moment before. She stared at him as though he was licking the icing right off her body.
“You didn’t think I was going to kiss you, did you?” He looked a little incredulous.
“What? No.” Actually, she didn’t know what she’d thought. They’d met only fifteen minutes before, and he was already touching her face. Well, she supposed she touched him first. In fact, she’d sort of groomed him. But that was different.
Levi hadn’t backed off yet. “I’ve never seen someone so afraid of a kiss before.”
She scowled at him. “I didn’t think you were going to kiss me. And I’m not afraid.” Then why was she shaking, she wondered.
Zoe may have been celibate, but it wasn’t like she didn’t touch people at all. She hugged her friends and her mom, shook hands with strangers. Pigs in bars thought slapping her ass was a reasonable substitute for a cheeky pickup line. Hell, she touched herself all the time. So what did it matter if he touched her cheek?
Levi was still standing so close, and she couldn’t stop staring at his lips now. Mentally shaking herself, she pushed him away. That’s when she caught sight of her watch.
She gasped. “Crap. We’ve only got fourteen minutes to get you ready.”
“Well then, you’d better stop trying to make out with me.”
“I’m not…” She sighed. Could he be any more exasperating? “I wouldn’t kiss you.”
“Really?” His eyebrows shot up. “Challenge accepted.”
Rolling her eyes, she spun and headed for the sanctuary. She couldn’t bring herself to turn around to see if he was following, in case he mistook her flushed cheeks as an invitation of sorts. Which it wasn’t. She was simply stressed. And as the day went on, the church only seemed to absorb the afternoon heat. That was it. She was just hot. And not for Levi.
“You seem to have a pretty good handle on things,” he said. He waltzed along beside her through the shortcut to the foyer, as though they were having a casual conversation, not trying to make a wedding happen in less than fourteen minutes.
“That’s because I don’t just let things work themselves out,” she said, taking the next corner in the hallway as fast as she could without running. “That’s what a good event planner does.”
“So you don’t just do weddings? What other kinds of things do you plan?”
“Anything really,” she said distractedly, running over the list once more in her mind. “I even throw Pure Pleasure Parties on the side to sell products.”
“What kinds of products are those?” he asked.
“Sex toys.”
His footsteps faltered, and she glanced back to watch him find his footing. She grinned to herself, happy that she could catch him off-guard for a change.
“Sex toy parties?” His cheeks were slightly pink, but he was grinning, his eyes practically twinkling with curiosity.
“If it’s a party, I’m there,” she said. “I plan it all. But as of next weekend, I think I’ll be doing mostly weddings.”
“Why’s that?”
“The Wedding Expo is next weekend. It’s the best place to promote your business for the upcoming season. I hear you walk away from that event with more clients than you know what to do with.” And more than enough money for her down payment, she thought.
“Maybe I should try it out. I’m in the entertainment business.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket, typing away as they neared the nave.
“You can’t just ‘try it out,’” she said. “This kind of thing takes planning. I’ve been preparing for months. Advertisements, promotional material, pitches—”
“There,” he said. “I’m all signed up.”
She came to a stop so fast that he ran into the back of her. “You’re what?”
He showed her his phone. A message flashed across the screen: Thank you for your participation. “I’ve booked a booth at the expo.”
She gaped at him. Was this guy trying to get on her last nerve? Her emotional bottle was going to need extra emptying that night.
Shaking her head, she ducked through the doors and into the nave. Most of the guests had already been seated. The priest was waiting front and center, coughing into the sleeve of his vestment. In the corner, the organ player stretched her arthritic fingers to stay limber for her big moment. Zoe vaguely wondered if she was the same organ player that performed the wedding march at Juliet’s parents’ wedding.
They skirted around the outside of the nave, past the pews jammed with hot guests waving the decorative fans Zoe had picked up earlier. Bright colors flashed as the folded paper moved back and forth in front of their flushed faces, wafting the muggy air around.
Reverently, Zoe snuck through the sanctuary, leading Levi to the vestry where the groom and his groomsmen were waiting to take their places at the front.
She knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer. A moment later, which seemed like forever with eleven minutes to go, the best man opened the door and she entered the small room. She waved Levi inside.
After greeting Levi, the groom and his six groomsmen resumed their positions in a quiet circle. Despite the row of stained glass windows casting bright, cheerful colors on them, the scene was a grim one. They all wore expressions as though this were a funeral and not a wedding.
Zoe honed in on the groom, Owen. The rest of the party may have been somber, but he looked like he was supposed to. Like this was the best day of his life.
She approached him, automatically straightening his bow tie. “How are you feeling? Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.” He beamed. “I can’t wait for us to be husband and wife.”
She took in the euphoric look on his face and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Are you sure?”
Zoe clamped her lips shut, but it was too late. Since she’d begun wedding planning four years ago, she’d never asked a bride or groom anything like that. It appalled her that the words had slipped out. But out of the corner of her eye, she caught the groomsmen sharing a look, and she knew she wasn’t the first person to ask the question.
She wasn’t sure how she expected Owen to respond. Maybe with offense or indignation at her audacity. The look on his face changed slightly, but he was still smiling.
“Yes,” he said. “I love her. And I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with her.”
Zoe breathed a sigh of relief. “Good because she’s just about ready for you.” She patted him on the shoulder like a coach before the big game. “You don’t want to keep her waiting.” She clapped her hands. “All right, gentlemen. Take your places.”
As they filtered out, she grabbed a tux from a hook on the back of the door. She thrust it at Levi. “Here. Hurry. You’ve only got six minutes.”
“Can do.” Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head.
She blinked, and her eyes grew wide. Maybe the guy wasn’t as much of a slacker as she thought, because he must have worked hard to get a body like that.
He grinned at her, but she was done letting him put her off her game. She tucked that mental image away for later that night and kept a straight face as she asked, “What are you doing?”
“You said to hurry. You can stay for the rest, if you’d like.” He winked. “It only gets better.”
Zoe snorted, making a show of her so-not-impressed reaction, but she could feel the heat running its fingers up her neck. Make that down her stomach to between her thighs.
Okay, so she was impressed, but she hid it beneath her composed mask and held his eyes as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. “If I thought there was much to see, I’d stick around for the show.”
He cringed and his lips formed an “o” like he was in pain, but then he winked and reached for his fly.
There was a knock on the door, and Zoe turned reluctantly. It had been a long time since she got to see “the rest” in person. Six years to be exact. Vibrators just weren’t the same.
Natalie poked her head inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but—” She hesitated. Her eyes focused past Zoe, probably wondering what exactly she’d interrupted.
“Oh God. What now?” Zoe asked.
After tearing her eyes away from Levi—with difficulty—Natalie pulled a face. “We’re down an organ player.”
“What? She was just there. I saw her.” Zoe whipped open the door and peeked over at the organ as though she didn’t believe Natalie. But because that was just the kind of day she was having, the elderly organ player was missing.
“What happened to her?” she asked.
“She’s in the bathroom throwing up.”
“Great. Awesome.” Zoe took another deep breath and tried to remain positive. “I need to find an organ player. I can do that. No problem.”
Her fingers itched, craving the touch of Pretty Puppy. Resisting a grope in her fanny pack, she turned back to Levi and suddenly had to fight the urge to grope something else, because he was wearing nothing but a dress shirt, staring down at the ends of the bow tie around his neck.
Zoe cleared her throat, trying to keep her eyes on his face. “Need help with that?” she asked casually.
“Depends on what you’re referring to.” His sleepy eyes narrowed as he gave her a wicked grin. “But actually, I might be able to help you.”
Zoe couldn’t help but glance down this time. The length of his shirt hid anything important, but by the way the fabric bulged at the front, she thought he’d be an excellent help. Forget carrying an emergency Fuzzy Friend around for support. She should have brought an emergency dildo.
Her eyes only lingered a second—okay, maybe two—before refocusing on his face. “And how can you help me?” Her voice became thick, layered with the double meaning.
And his response was the same. “I can play your organ.”
There was just something about his voice. Maybe it was the timbre, the warm rumble, but it made her insides melt. God, the material this guy was giving her for later. That is, until his actual meaning hit her. She shook her head, clearing her one-tracked mind.
This time, Zoe’s shock broke through her mask. “You play the organ?”
“Well, I don’t know about an organ, but I play the piano. It shouldn’t be too much of a leap.”
Her heart which had risen at first, sank a little. “Oh, well, I don’t really think it’s that easy.”
He shrugged, but smiled like he was being all heroic or something. “No big deal. I’ll give it a shot.”
She scoffed, but tried to remain patient, with only two minutes, no … make that one minute and fifty-nine seconds to go … fifty-eight … Her eyebrows rose a fraction. “No big deal? A shot?”
“Sure.” That smile, that way-too-adorable smile, brightened just a little more like the angels in that stained glass were shining down on him.
He was still struggling with the bow tie. Sighing, she began to arrange it with practiced fingers. “No offense, but the bride’s grand entrance hinges on you giving it ‘a shot.’ It actually is kind of a big deal.”
Now that they were close, she realized how tall he was. Despite her Japanese genetics, she was five-foot-eleven, and Levi had a good half-foot on her, even with her heels on.
She loved a tall man. It meant that she had to tilt her face up to kiss him rather than down. Plus, it was far better for other things, like spooning—or more important, sixty-nine. At least, that’s the kind of information she’d give clients during her sexucation talks. It’s not like the fact that he wasn’t wearing any pants was making her think that or anything. And certainly not at a time like this.
He slipped on his pants and as he tucked in his long dress shirt—and himself—she realized he’d been in so much of a hurry that morning that he’d forgotten to put on underwear too. She hadn’t been that close to a wiener since Buddy died.
She gave Natalie a look, but her assistant just stared at her, as though waiting for instructions. Zoe gave her a wave, and she scurried off. With a final tweak of the bow tie, Zoe stood back like everything was perfectly normal, and handed him his vest.
“Relax,” he told her. “Life’s too short to stress about the little things.” He shrugged himself into the vest, buttoning it up. “I’ll go jump on the organ now to practice. It will all work out.” He started to leave.
Relax? The little things? This was so not “little.” Zoe stared after him. Did he think he was simply going to jump on the organ and give it a whirl? Yup, he was opening the door. Now he was headed for the unmanned organ.
Feeling the seconds tick by and her anxiety level rising, she stormed after him. She laughed incredulously, but kept her voice low as they passed through the sanctuary. “Look. I’m sure someone else here knows how to play. I’m not about to leave something this important up to chance.”
“It’s not chance,” he said. “I’m a musician. I’ll just wing it.”
“‘Wing—’” Zoe closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. When she opened them again, he was already seated on the organ bench.
Marching over, she grabbed his arm—his surprisingly toned arm. “Okay, enough playing around. We’ve only got … one minute before go-time.”
He gazed up at her pleasantly. “Well, then I guess you’d better go.”
She scowled down at him. Oh, this was so not part of the plan. So far, she’d averted every crisis that day had thrown at her, kept everything going perfectly to schedule. She’d met every challenge head on. But this guy was more than a challenge with his “just go with the flow” attitude.
Hesitantly, Levi tried a couple of keys. It sounded like a cat walking across the organ. Zoe flinched.
“You’d better hurry,” he said. “You only have fifty more seconds to go.” He grinned up at her.
God, how she wanted to wrap the Congratulations banner around his neck at that moment. And yet she knew that cocky look was going to be starring in her silicone-induced fantasies later that night.
She checked her watch again. He was right. She supposed there was no helping it. Levi was going to play the organ.
Gritting her teeth, Zoe spun on her heel to go search for her bride, wincing with each incorrect note he played as he tried to “wing” it.
She remembered at the last minute to toss the priest a pack of cough drops and headed to the foyer where she found Juliet and her entourage already making their way through the hall. Makeup back in place, hair artfully rearranged, Juliet looked like a picture-perfect bride, smile and all.
“Oh. You look wonderful,” Zoe said. And this time she meant it. “Are you ready?”
Juliet squealed in excitement. It appeared as though she’d done a complete one-eighty since she’d last seen her. “Yes.”
Zoe didn’t have to ask if she was sure about her groom. She’d be crazy to not want to marry a man as patient and understanding—and maybe slightly oblivious—as Owen.
“Good,” Zoe said. “He’s already waiting for you. Let’s go.”
Juliet nodded and took her place at the end of the procession line next to her father.
Zoe leaned close to Natalie. “Nice job on the makeup, by the way.”
“All the fires put out?” Natalie asked.
“Not out, just maintained. Make sure the doves are outside the front steps for the end. Oh, and we need that new cake for the reception.”
“I’m all over it.”
A quick scan of those gathered outside the doors told Zoe the devil flower girl had made a break for it again. She was probably bouncing off the walls somewhere from all the sugar. But at least they still had Juliet’s other niece to sprinkle rose petals.
The bridesmaids lined up like a rainbow outside the doors, and Zoe raised her watch to check it one last time just as it struck one o’clock on the dot. Poking her head into the nave, she glared at the blue bow tied groomsman sitting at the organ.
Levi was just hanging out, staring off into space. Didn’t he know how critical this was? Or was everything “no big deal” to him?
Zoe waved her hand back and forth furiously before he finally noticed her and waved back. She moved her hand in a circular motion, trying to cue him to begin. He gave her a thumbs-up and raised his hands above the keys.
She resisted the urge to stick her fingers in her ears as she held her breath for the first note. But when his fingers hit those keys, it actually sounded in tune. And as they drifted over the organ, it formed a real song. Canon in D, she realized. Levi was playing a classical song. How does one simply “wing” Pachelbel?
Zoe watched in amazement. People didn’t often catch her off-guard, but Levi certainly had. And that irritated the hell out of her. He was flaky, laid-back, unpredictable. She couldn’t plan for unpredictable.
When heat began to rise above her blazer collar and over her cheeks, she realized the entire congregation had turned expectantly to her. There was a tap on her shoulder.
“Zoe.” Natalie whispered behind her. “Zoe, we should begin.”
“Oh right.”
Jumping to action, Zoe opened the doors wide and backed out of the way.
She turned to the first person in line: the MOB. “Well, you’re up first. Looks like everything is going well.”
Mrs. Fisher smiled, her heavily eye-shadowed gaze fixed on Zoe’s. “You’d better hope so.”
Zoe’s eye twitched, but she managed to ignore the implied threat. Stepping aside, she gestured for the woman to enter the nave. As she glided by at a measured pace, Zoe spotted a few pieces of red velvet cake clinging to her curls and smiled to herself.
All Zoe’s hard work and planning came together in that moment. The parents marched first, followed by the bridesmaids who looked like a perfect rainbow arching down the aisle. The flower girl tossed her petals and Juliet’s ring-bearing dog was actually bearing. Finally, the bride slipped her arm through her father’s and she gave Zoe a nod.
The harmonious humming from the organ inside altered in an improvised segue into the traditional wedding march. Somehow Zoe didn’t think her last-minute pianist just winged that either. But she didn’t have time to think about that as she signaled the bride forward.
The room was hushed as Juliet made her way toward her future husband. Suddenly, the cake wouldn’t matter, the horse was going to be a minor hiccup—she hoped—and the dress was forgotten. Because all the bride and groom could see in that moment was their partner. Their focus was on each other, where it should be. Not on the details.
And that’s why Zoe did what she did. For that moment when everything came together and the bride and groom’s day was suddenly perfect. She took satisfaction in knowing she helped give them the day she never got. Because no one should have to go through what she did. Not on what was supposed to be the best day of their life.
Zoe snuck in and quietly sat down in the back row. She preferred to be present during the ceremony in case anything went awry. Over the years, she’d had a fainting pastor, a narcoleptic photographer, and a father of the bride with a heart attack. By now she was prepared for practically anything a wedding day could throw at her. She’d developed some pretty mean photo and video skills and had taken advanced CPR and first-aid training. Hell, she’d even been ordained—just in case.
She sat back and listened to the priest recite the same old routine that she’d heard a thousand times. By the time they got to the end, she began to think this disaster might actually work out. And not because things just magically worked out on their own, like Levi Dolson believed. It was thanks to Zoe being on top of her game. She was an expert, after all.
Zoe waited for the end of the ceremony with anticipation, and it wasn’t because she was moved by the union, but because that’s when her busy afternoon picked up again.
She zoned out for a few seconds, already running through the to-do list in her head. By the time she tuned back in, the groom stepped forward, Zoe thought to kiss the bride. Then she looked to the front. It wasn’t the groom. It was the best man.
Confusion rippled throughout the room among both the congregation and the wedding party. The priest glanced between the bride and groom. Juliet and Owen shared a look.
Finally, the best man spoke, and because there was dead silence, it was clear as a wedding bell even to Zoe in the far back.
“I object.”
There was a chorus of gasps and held breaths from around the room.
Oh, shit, thought Zoe.
She’d been so worried about every little detail that could destroy Juliet and Owen’s special day that she’d never considered this possibility. It had never happened before. Usually all the objections were made by this point. And they had been—yet Owen was still determined to go through with it.
Her whole body tensed with the instinct to sprint up there and tackle the best man. Her job was to give the couple a perfect day, to sort out any issues, iron out the kinks. But this was one problem she couldn’t fix. One problem that had nothing to do with the wedding planner.
The best man took a deep breath. “I’m in love with Juliet.”
It was as though time had stopped. The priest looked confused, the bride shocked, the groom furious. As Juliet opened her mouth to respond, the double doors burst open. Everyone turned in the pews to watch as Juliet’s uncle stumbled in.
His glazed eyes cast over the room before he yelled out, “Congratulations!” He raised one of the bottles meant for the wedding party table and took a deep swig.
Juliet began to cry, a full-on ugly cry. The groom seemed torn between comforting her and punching the best man’s lights out. But whatever he was saying to Juliet was drowned out as the FOG and the MOB picked up where they left off in the kitchen. Their screams could be heard echoing through the cloisters and above the church bells that rang at the exact time the ceremony was supposed to finish.
The guests twisted and turned in their seats, their surprise and gossip a hum of constant noise that set Zoe’s teeth on edge. She jumped to her feet, not even sure what she could possibly do other than usher people outside or call the police to prevent a murder.
As she pressed her way into the aisle, she watched the MIA flower girl scamper through the open doors and down the aisle screaming “Hell!” The flock of remaining doves released from their cages flew by her like she was the profane pied piper of birds.
The flower girl’s timing couldn’t have been better, Zoe thought numbly, because as the bride came sprinting down the aisle past Zoe, the groom hot on her heels, she realized that the wedding was, in fact, over.
One dove flew over Zoe’s head and up to a chandelier, it’s poorly timed evacuation landing squarely on Mrs. Fisher’s feathered fascinator—maybe in an animal-cruelty protest, of sorts. Excited by all the commotion, the ring bearer began humping a guest’s fake-fur purse.
Zoe stared at the chaos in disbelief. How the hell did this happen? More important, how was she going to fix this?
Reaching into her fanny pack, she found her fuzzy strength. With a deep breath, she gathered her wits and began to make a mental list.
Tie up the dog
Shoo the birds out
Stuff cake into the cussing flower girl’s mouth
Kick the best man in the balls
Coax the bride back in front of the priest
While on her way up the aisle to grab the dog’s leash, Zoe noticed people starting to leave, probably because the doves were still lingering dangerously overhead. She held her hands up and addressed the congregation as a whole.
“Don’t worry everyone!” she yelled in the most confident voice she could muster. “This is just a little hiccup. Please remain seated, and we’ll be underway again in no time!”
But Juliet’s partially deaf grandmother obviously never heard her because she shuffled out of the aisle, bumping into Zoe. Her cane crunched down on Zoe’s foot.
Yelping, she leapt aside, hopping on one foot. She bumped into another guest. When she turned around, she found herself face of face with Levi.
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t sleep through this wedding,” he said like he was making casual conversation. “How can I help?”
The last thing she needed right then was a guy who thought this was all no big deal. “Just stand up at the front and be ready for a wedding.” She began dragging the overexcited golden retriever down the aisle.
“Zoe!” he called over the crowd. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve got this,” she said. “I have a plan!” But just as she was wrangling the dog out the doors with the promise of treats, she saw the bride racing through the church’s front doors to wave down a cab.
Zoe ran after her, calling out, “Juliet! Come back!”
But she couldn’t be heard over the loud hee-haw that blurted from the sidewalk. A man in a sombrero blocked her path down the steps. He yelled into the church doors like he was delivering pizza to a college rec room.
“I have a donkey here for a Zoe Plum!”
Zoe gaped at the donkey chewing on the shabby chic sign directing wedding guests into the church. It also wore an oversized sombrero and poncho. “Horse, Natalie. I said horse,” she muttered under her breath. Smelly donkey just didn’t have the same romantic feel while riding into the sunset.
“Hee-haw!” it said.
If only Zoe could talk to Juliet. The day might still be saved. So it didn’t go as planned. So what? It was about the end result, right? No big deal?
But before she could push past the donkey, the cab’s tires squealed. Burning rubber, it sped off.
Owen chased after it, his dress shoes clicking on the pavement. The train of Juliet’s dress, which was shut in the door, dragged along Bush Street behind it, flapping in the wind.
Zoe watched in disbelief. How could things have gone so wrong so fast? She thought she’d been prepared for everything that could go wrong. She just never expected for everything to go wrong at the exact same time. How was it even possible?
She sensed someone come up beside her. For a moment, she expected Natalie or maybe even Levi. But the smell of bourbon and coffee invaded her nostrils before she even turned around.
A wobbly Uncle Wally raised his bottle of wine at the retreating cab. “You win some, you lose some.” Then he bent over and vomited on her rose topiary.