Welcome to the Wedding Expo! The giant letters scrolled across the digital sign above the Hilton Hotel. The thrill of it had Zoe gripping her wheel in excitement as she pulled her van into the underground parking lot. Keeping an eye out for a free space, she wound farther and farther down. There were already so many vehicles there, which meant so many potential customers.
When she finally found a free space, she pulled in and parked. But she still hadn’t seen her assistant’s bright yellow car anywhere.
Grabbing her phone, she texted Natalie.
Just arrived at the expo. Are you here?
Normally, Zoe wouldn’t have been worried, but Natalie had grown increasingly distracted over the last few weeks, letting things slip, being tardy, making personal phone calls while on the clock. Whipping out her tablet, she brought up her to-do list for the week and made a note to speak to Natalie about her recent performance. Zoe liked the girl, but business was business.
She leaned back in her seat and waited for a response, mentally going through her current to-do list. The song on the radio came to an end, replaced by the news on the hour.
“Our top story today, the San Fran Slayer has struck again. Last night at approximately eight-thirty P.M., an up-and-coming local jewelry designer was found stabbed to death in her shop. Police say the murder occurred just before the shop was to close for the day. Anyone with information about the crime is asked to call the police. In other news…”
Zoe frowned as she turned down the radio. The serial killer had been on a killing spree for a couple of years now. The lead investigator on the case was Bob, the boyfriend of the Dachshund Rescue Center’s manager. While he didn’t let on much about the case, Zoe knew how the Slayer was keeping the precinct busy. The whole country was watching.
She checked her phone again, but there was still no response from Natalie. There was, however, a text from her seamstress saying her bride’s Marchesa wedding gown was ready. She replied, telling her she’d have Natalie pick it up that day, because she was as excited to see it as the bride was. This wasn’t just any dress. It wasn’t just any bride. It was her best friend, Piper Summers.
She cc’d Natalie on it and hit send. Sighing, she resigned herself to setting up the booth on her own and got out. A blushing bride beamed at her from the ad on the side of her van, about to throw her bouquet.
While her sex toy sales were good, there was big money in the wedding business. Since it paid more bills, she promoted her event-planning services more than her pleasure services. That, and because she thought a giant bride throwing a bouquet was more appropriate on the side of her van than a strap-on. Although, much less fun.
Loading up with supplies, she slung a bag of pamphlets and fabric samples over her shoulder before pulling out two mannequins dressed as a bride and groom. She set them on their feet and gave them the once over. They looked as ready as any couple would before walking down the aisle. In fact, she’d looked exactly like that on her wedding day, since it was her dress and veil the blonde mannequin wore.
Zoe stared down at her beautiful bride, at the tulle ball gown with the scalloped lace edging and bateau neckline. It had seemed a shame to throw it out after it had never even made it down the aisle. Or to burn it like she’d originally wanted to. Or to track down the missing groom, strangle him with it and set them both on fire.
Slipping the groom’s top hat onto her head so it wouldn’t end up on the ground, she grabbed a mannequin under each arm and headed for the elevator.
Potential customers liked visuals. They didn’t want to hear about what Zoe could do for them as a wedding planner. They wanted to see it, to imagine themselves walking down that aisle under her care and guidance. She wanted them to be able to visualize their wedding day, to touch it, to smell it.
She’d prepared bouquets, place settings, photo albums, centerpieces, and other decor. She had everything, right down to two silver chairs with cute signs that said Bride and Groom. Her booth was going to be a miniature version of the big day.
It was certainly going to be better than Levi Dolson’s booth. He probably wouldn’t even have a sign, or business cards, for that matter. But the expo was so big, spanning over twenty different rooms in the conference center. There was a good chance she wouldn’t even run into him.
She hadn’t seen the pianist turned organ player since Juliet ran away from her wedding the weekend before. She’d lost him in the chaos after the ceremony fell apart. By the time the feathers had cleared, all that remained was a big mess to clean up. Zoe still couldn’t understand how it all went so wrong.
But the expo was going to be a fresh start for her. The Fisher-Wells wedding was behind her now, and she had to focus on booking new clients to make up for the lost commission. She’d even had to cancel her appointment with the real-estate agent indefinitely until she could replace the funds.
The lobby was already choked with people, expo guests, she realized once she started reading the passes on the lanyards around their necks. They were already lined up at the doors, hoping for the early-bird specials, the best deals, the yummiest baked giveaways. As she shuffled through the excited throng, they eyed her bag of samples greedily.
She approached the guest services desk and dinged the bell. Or rather, the groom mannequin did, since her hands were full.
A moment later, a clerk slid behind the desk. “Yes, may I help you”—he hesitated as his eyes passed over Zoe—“three?”
“Good morning,” she said. “It’s my first year running a booth at the expo. Can you tell me where can I find the Grand Ballroom?”
“Oh, that’s an excellent location for the expo.” He took out a map of the conference center. “A very high traffic area.”
“Apparently they reserve certain prime locations for up-and-comers, to help newbies build their business.” Zoe could already feel the sweat starting to form on her brow from the weight of her supplies, but she couldn’t help but gush. She was so hopeful this weekend’s event was going to put her business over the top.
Zoe didn’t consider herself a newbie, by any means, but she’d only been an official business for a few years now. Before that, her event planning was just a side thing she did for friends’ parties and weddings. It was one of those rare instances that people complimented and celebrated her OCD tendencies instead of rolling their eyes. So in the end, she decided to put her blunt opinions to use and get paid for being OCD.
“What kind of business do you own?” the clerk asked politely as he took out a pen and a map of the facilities.
“I’m a wedding planner,” she said.
“Excuse me,” a girl nearby interrupted. “Sorry, but I couldn’t help overhear. My name is Jessica, and this is Cole.” She laid her hand on the chest of a young man next to her. “We’re getting married.”
The sparkling princess cut set in white gold made that obvious enough. But the way she’d said it, kind of nervously, made Zoe think they were only recently engaged and still getting used to the idea themselves. The girl gazed up at her fiancé like he was the only man on earth.
Zoe could remember looking that way once. Thinking there was only one man for her. What a joke that turned out to be. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t understand what it meant to her clients, that she couldn’t put herself in their shoes.
It was her job to help them through the next several months of the lovey-dovey crap, before reality set in, before the harsh truth, the heartbreak. If they made it that far. Hell, she didn’t even make it down the aisle before her world fell out from under her.
Shaking off her negativity, she smiled warmly at the couple, letting their joy infuse her with the ambition to take on whatever their hearts desired. “Congratulations. That’s exciting.”
“We were thinking of hiring a wedding planner,” Jessica said.
Before Zoe could open her mouth to respond with some sales pitch, someone nearby cut in. “Then the last thing you want to do is hire Zoe Plum to organize your wedding. Or you might not get married at all.”
The doe-eyed look left the bride-to-be’s eyes. She turned and blinked at the newcomer. When Zoe saw who it was, the hinged joints of her mannequins squeaked as she held them closer in a supportive group hug.
“Juliet. What are you doing here?” she asked between clenched teeth.
The ex-bride’s hair was a tangle of curls and grease, almost as though she hadn’t washed it since her wedding day. In fact, she probably hadn’t, since Zoe noticed she was still wearing her wedding jewelry—although, she was missing one teardrop earring.
“I’m just trying to prevent people from making the same mistake I did in hiring you.” Dark circles ringed her eyes, but they were also puffy from crying. When she narrowed them hatefully, it looked as though she’d been punched in the face and she was sporting two black eyes.
Zoe took a deep breath, maintaining an air of complete professionalism, despite the silly top hat. “I’m sorry you were unhappy with how your wedding day turned out, but—”
“Wedding? You call that a wedding?” she screeched. “It was a circus. And you were the ring leader.”
Zoe pressed her lips together to stop herself from saying that Juliet had been the clown. “I know things didn’t turn out the way you wanted them to, but sometimes we need to be more flexible as in the case with, well … many of your requests.”
“It was your job to make my dreams come true!” She jabbed a finger at her, nail bitten to the quick.
“No,” Zoe said calmly. “It was my job to give you the wedding you asked for. And I did my job.”
“Then why aren’t I married!?” Grabbing a vase of flowers off the front desk, she raised it above her head and threw it on the ground.
The vase smashed at their feet. Glass scattered over Zoe’s heels. Water sprayed Jessica, and she inched closer to her fiancé, but both of them seemed too shocked to move. If all the potential clients waiting for the expo to start hadn’t noticed the confrontation before, they all turned their way now.
Juliet stood there shaking, stray wisps of hair falling around her face like Medusa. She let out a frustrated scream like a three-year-old having a tantrum. It sounded hoarse, like she’d been up drinking ever since the ill-fated day. Hell, maybe she had been. It certainly didn’t seem like she’d gotten much sleep since.
Zoe noticed the clerk casually pick up the phone and press a button. He murmured into the mouthpiece, but one word was clear enough. “… security…”
Juliet seemed to hear it too. “Good. Call security!” she yelled. “Zoe doesn’t even belong here. She spouts nothing but false advertising.”
The young couple shifted uncomfortably, backing away from the scene. “Maybe we should go,” Jessica said.
Zoe held up her hands. “No. Please. It wasn’t how she’s making it sound.”
“It’s true.” Juliet scowled. “I didn’t get married that day because of you.”
Zoe had had enough of Juliet, of her demands, of her accusations, of her crappy treatment for over a year. She wasn’t under contract anymore. It wasn’t her job to keep her happy or sugarcoat things.
As she took a step forward, she thought that she could have really used a Fuzzy Friend right about then, but her arms were full with her bride and groom. So instead, she hugged them for support and drew on her years of practice maintaining her cool, of stuffing her unwanted emotions into her inner Zen bottle.
She stared down the bridezilla. “Because of me, you got everything you asked for. Every ridiculous, over-the-top demand. I bent over backwards for you. I did everything I could to get you down that aisle. All you had to do was say ‘I do.’”
At some point, she hadn’t noticed when, the young couple had slipped away and disappeared into the crowd. The onlookers gathered closer and closer out of curiosity and some even in mild horror.
Maybe it was the appearance of the distraught bride, still partially dressed from her wedding day in her jewelry and shoes, frozen in the moment that every bride fears might happen: the moment it all falls apart. By the glares that Zoe could feel fix on her, the crowd had naturally sided with the bride.
Whatever Juliet’s reasons were for running away from that day, from her fiancé, Zoe couldn’t begin to guess. Well, maybe it had something to do with guilt over whatever was going on with the best man, but that was none of her business. However, the situation had brought back memories of her own wedding day, of being left at the altar.
By running away, Juliet had done to Owen what Sean, her ex-fiancé, had done to Zoe all those years ago. And because of that, she just couldn’t seem to find any sympathy for her. The girl obviously had some issues to work through, but she needed to work through them somewhere else.
Zoe sighed, hoping security would get there soon. “It wasn’t me who prevented you from getting married. You didn’t get married because of you.”
Juliet’s chin quivered, but her eyes narrowed with fury. “How could I possibly say yes when I was so upset about the mess you caused?” She pulled an already-used tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “I should sue you.”
“Sue me for what? Out of courtesy, I waived my own fees.” Which was more than she deserved after the way she’d treated Zoe.
“I’ll sue for the cost of the wedding. Not to mention emotional damage.”
Oh, you were damaged long before I came along, she nearly said aloud, but managed to bite her tongue to avoid further inflaming the situation.
“Is there a problem here?” A man’s voice cut in. The crowd parted to reveal a rather beefy security guard for such a happy event. Zoe vaguely wondered how often wedding expos got out of hand.
“Yes. This woman is making a scene and running my customers off.” Zoe pointed out Juliet, but by her appearance, it was obvious who the crazy person was.
The security guard crossed his arms, but considering the difference between Juliet and the beefy man, he didn’t need to turn on the intimidation. “If this is true, ma’am, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“The problem isn’t with me,” Juliet told him, yet her very appearance said otherwise. Her voice began to rise, just in case the people on the other side of the lobby hadn’t heard the commotion yet. “I came to warn everyone here that hiring this Zoe Plum as your wedding planner is the worst decision you’ll ever make!”
“All right. Let’s go,” the guard said.
But Juliet wasn’t going to go that easily. After a couple of attempts at avoiding capture, she obviously realized she wasn’t going to win that battle. She gave Zoe a look that said, This isn’t over before rag-dolling.
The security guard barely caught her before she hit the tiles, then proceeded to drag her out, dirty silk bridal shoes scraping along the floor. A couple hundred eyes watched her go, pity clear in their owner’s expressions. Once the hotel lobby doors shut and Juliet’s screams were muffled, their attention swiveled back to Zoe.
She pulled her top hat down ever so slightly and tried to ignore them as she reached for the clerk’s facility map with the instructions. “You know, it didn’t really happen like that.”
The clerk’s expression was cool as he passed her the map. “Good luck,” he said like she was going to need it.
“Thank you.” She tipped her head in thanks, the top hat dipping.
Raising her chin high, she headed back to the elevators in search of her booth and her dignity. So much for the Fisher-Wells wedding being behind her.
Zoe followed the map, making her way down a couple of levels, past rooms lined with eager vendors and wedding-circuit professionals. There was table after table offering all sorts of services.
She took note of a few stalls beginning to set up that she would have to visit later in the day, like handmade decor suppliers, and allergen-free flower alternatives. And she was definitely interested in listening in on a few panel discussions that were advertised on shabby chic sandwich boards everywhere. Such as Wedding Traditions: Obligation or Obsolete?
As early in the morning as it was, she was already dodging people, people just like her, rushing to get ready for the big weekend. There was an excited tension in the air. It was in the way people scrambled around their tables or lugged supplies back and forth, hoping for what every other business owner hopes for: success.
For Zoe, she hoped to finally show her mother that she was just fine on her own. To finally prove her wrong. Her own business, her own money, and, soon, her own home. Once she saw her name on that mortgage agreement, she’d have everything she needed in life. As much as her mother believed Zoe needed a man, she felt satisfied, complete, all on her own.
To Zoe’s American born-and-raised mind, it was insane that anyone would still believe in such old-school ideals. Despite living in the United States for over thirty years, her mother’s traditional Japanese beliefs were as ingrained in her as a thread in a zanshi weaving. Zoe wasn’t sure she’d ever find common ground with her.
Finally, Zoe reached the Grand Ballroom. She passed through the double doors, beneath a thick arch of dripping lilacs that greeted guests with a fresh, powerfully romantic scent.
Her footsteps were softened by a wide aisle runner that had been rolled across the length of the room so the expo guests would feel as though they were already walking down the aisle on their big day. She gripped her mannequins in an excited hug. It was certainly going to be her big day.
Down either side of the main aisle, stands with giant bouquets of flowers were placed every ten feet or so. Each one was a different arrangement created by a variety of local florists showing off their talent. She assessed each one with appreciation as she headed for the middle of the room where her information packet told her she’d be located.
A glittering behemoth of a chandelier dangled above her, casting her with a warm light, like the heavens were shining favorably upon her. This was it. She’d arrived. This was where her business would reach new heights.
She slowly made her way past each table. Her gaze flit around the unoccupied spaces, scanning the place cards for her own company’s sign: Plum Crazy Events. But her excitement gradually turned to confusion. Her name was on none of the open stalls.
Zoe’s arms were growing tired, and if Natalie didn’t show up soon, she’d be racing to set up her booth all by herself. Not wanting to waste any more time searching, she turned to go find one of the expo volunteers for help.
As she took a step, there was a rustle under her foot. She glanced down to find something stuck to her shoe. She tried to shake it off, hopping in her heels with the bride and groom, but it wouldn’t budge. It just made her look like she was dancing in some kind of three-person ho-down.
Shifting her partners in her arms, she tried to get a better look. It was a discarded place card. The tape had adhered itself to her black suede heels.
Using her bride’s bedazzled shoes, she managed to pry it off. The paper fluttered to the plush aisle runner, landing face up. She read the typeset: Zoe Plum. Plum Crazy Events.
“What the hell?”
“Zoe?!” A shrill voice called out. “Is that you? Oh, my gosh, it’s so good to see you.”
Zoe turned to find a skinny brunette approaching her with a haughty look on her pinched face. It didn’t help that her bun was gathered so tightly to the back of her head that it looked to be pulling the flesh from her skin—something Zoe had been tempted to do on more than one occasion.
“Hello, Chelsea,” she said, like she’d just stepped in gum with her heels. “I wish I could say the same about you.” She gave her a smile, the kind that would never be mistaken for a real one.
Zoe’s bride and groom were getting heavier by the second, and the last thing she wanted was to waste time dealing with her rival—a term she used loosely.
Chelsea didn’t have a hope in hell of ever being as good as her. “Rival” was more of a self-proclaimed title that Chelsea gave herself. Maybe because she was jealous of Zoe. Maybe because she secretly hoped to be like her. Or maybe because she just wanted to make Zoe’s life miserable every time they ran into each other.
Chelsea’s pinched face puckered as she took in Zoe’s models. “I see you brought your friends along. But if you want to make it look like your booth is popular, I don’t think these two will fool anyone. Because let’s face it. You’re not that popular.” She chuckled at her own joke.
She waved a hand in the direction of her own booth. A garish banner hung over it, screaming Enchanted Events at anyone who passed by. The backdrop of sequined curtains dripped with glittering hearts and streamers, oozing cheesy high school dance romance.
“My booth, on the other hand, will be the talk of the expo,” she said. “Customers will be lined up all the way to the lobby.”
Zoe was only half listening to her babble. She was busy counting the tables, trying to remember the layout in her information pack. By her third time counting, there could be no doubt.
She spun on Chelsea. “This is supposed to be my booth.”
Chelsea’s penciled eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Oh no. How embarrassing. Didn’t anyone tell you? You’ve been relocated.”
Zoe narrowed her eyes at the woman. “To where?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her voice infused with sweet innocence. “Somewhere way, way, way over there in the back corner.” She gestured in an ambiguous “over there” direction.
Zoe gritted her teeth. She should have expected Chelsea to pull something like this. But this was bold even for her. “Funny that I’ve supposedly been relocated and you just so happen to be the one taking my place.”
“The event coordinator told me first thing this morning. I’m just being cooperative.” Her eyelashes fluttered. “I guess they decided to give the better space to the better planner.” She pointed to her chest, in case Zoe didn’t know who she meant.
Zoe half-hoped she’d accidentally stab herself with one of her ridiculously pointy gel nails. She shifted the mannequins in her arms for a better hold and turned to head back to the main lobby. “Well, I’ll just have to go find him. Straighten this all out.”
“Oh, sure,” Chelsea said, casually. “I’m sure it’s just a simple mix up. Make sure to ask for James,” she called to Zoe’s back. “James Carruthers!”
Zoe’s footsteps came to a halt as the last name sank in. “Carruthers? As in Chelsea Carruthers?”
“Yeah, that’s right. As in my cousin. What a weird coincidence, right?” She laughed like they were two besties sharing a good joke. “But don’t let that stop you. I’m sure he’ll side with you over his favorite cousin.”
Zoe kept her face straight, except for a sharp eyebrow arch, but her insides were strung tight. There was just something about Chelsea that ruffled her calm, orderly feathers.
Her arms tightened around her bride and broom until plastic squeaked in protest. But Zoe quickly pushed the annoyance back down, screwing the cap tight on that bottle-o-crazy.
Chelsea wasn’t worth the effort—not that Zoe had the time to spare for it, anyway. The doors opened to the public in an hour and she still had to find and set up her booth. She’d just have to win over her clients because she could offer them more talent and skill than Chelsea ever could. Besides, who could ignore her kick-ass display replete with a bride and groom?
“Oh, Zoe.” Chelsea clicked her tongue as she took in the bride’s wedding gown. Zoe’s wedding gown. “The dress is a bit outdated, isn’t it? You know, you should really put your best foot forward for these kinds of events,” Chelsea told her very seriously. “They’ll really make or break you.”
“It’s a classic style,” Zoe told her. Although, she wasn’t sure why she was defending her style to the likes of Chelsea.
“Not with this lace it isn’t,” she said. “My own dress is going to be Chantilly. Nothing but the best.” She smiled like she had a secret to tell.
Zoe realized Chelsea didn’t mean for her display but for her own trip down the aisle. She’d obviously been looking for any excuse to spill the news. “You mean you’ve actually found someone to put up with you? Congratulations. I didn’t think that was possible.”
Chelsea bit her lip like she wanted to say more but then stopped herself for some reason. Instead, she fingered the fabric with distaste. She shuddered. “Is that polyester?”
Zoe used the groom’s hand to slap hers away. “Hands off the merchandise.”
Chelsea checked her watch. “You’d better hurry. You don’t have long to set up, and it’s a very long walk to your booth.” Chelsea waggled her fingers. “Bye-bye.”
Zoe sneered at her, but shook her head. “You’re right. I don’t need to waste my time with you. One day, all the things you pull will catch up to you. You’ll get yours eventually.” Not about to let her rival delay her any longer. With two lead weights in either arm, she could do little more than turn and trudge to the other end of the Grand Ballroom. Way, way, way at the other end.
After wandering around for what seemed like forever, she finally located a table with Zoe Plum, Plum Crazy Events hastily scribbled on a sticky note. She groaned as she set her bride and groom down, dumping the rest of her supplies onto the floor.
Once the feeling to her arms returned, she removed the top hat from her head and plopped it onto the groom’s. She frowned and angled it by five degrees.
While she stood back to appreciate it, her skin began to prickle with the sense that someone was watching her. She slowly turned around and discovered her perv sitting at the table directly beside hers.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said.
Reclined in a plastic chair, feet propped up on the table with a guitar resting on his chest was Levi Dolson. “Miss me?”