Zoe tapped her blank “I do” notebook with a pen that was becoming increasingly gnarly with her anxious teeth marks. She glanced at her watch again. The expo doors had been open for an hour already. Saturday was supposed to be the busiest day of the whole weekend, and yet none of the customers who had found their way to her far, far, far little corner had shown any interest in her booth.
Her hopefulness for that weekend’s results had turned to desperation overnight. The expo started out as a way to finally buy her own home, to feel like the responsible grown-up she was trying to convince her mother she was, to advance her business. Now those desires had mutated into needs.
She needed to buy a home to prove to her mother she was a success. She needed to get out of that arranged marriage without causing her mother stress. She needed to undo the negative word-of-mouth created by Juliet’s wedding.
There seemed to be so much more than her pride riding on that weekend. If only there wasn’t someone out there possibly trying to sabotage her. Or kill her.
Between Juliet’s tantrum and Chelsea’s scheming, she was desperate for anyone to stop by her table. Things hadn’t been a total bust, though. There were all those business cards that Natalie had handed out the day before. Maybe one of those interested people would pop by that morning.
At the thought of her assistant, she checked her watch again, like it was going to be drastically different from two minutes ago. Ten o’clock and still no sign of her.
Zoe knew she had to have a serious talk with that girl. Either that or she was going to have to get a new assistant. Zoe added it to the growing list in her head.
Replace assistant
Find new dress for Piper
Buy new wedding supplies
Find out who’s trying to kill me
Zoe stared off at nothing in particular, the beats of her pen growing louder and faster. The strum of a guitar interrupted her fretting. Levi perched on the edge of her table, directly in her line of sight.
“Zoe’s eyes sparkle like bay.
A smile from her blows me away.
But I don’t get one today.
Because she seems kind of gray.
Hey, hey, hey…”
Zoe cut Levi’s crooning off. “Did anyone ever tell you that your tunes are cheesy?”
“They’re not cheesy. They’re honest.” He feigned offense, but considering the ease with which he played around on his guitar, something told Zoe there was a lot more talent he was hiding beneath his cheap rhymes.
“Did you have a chance to listen to my demo CD?” he asked.
“No. I didn’t exactly have time between my mother landing in the hospital, someone trying to sabotage my business, nearly dying in a car accident, and answering police questions until one in the morning.”
He didn’t let her sarcasm rattle him. “Right. Well, I’ll forgive you. This time.”
“Look. We don’t need a musician for the wedding,” she told him flatly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a booth to run.”
Zoe turned, as though she expected someone to approach at any second. It was mostly so she didn’t have to get sucked into another flirt session with Levi.
After waking up from yet another steamy dream about the musician, she was done entertaining his advances. An hour, three vibrators, and a cold shower later, she was ready to strangle him—no matter how illogical it was.
Maybe it was simply the stress of the night before. Or maybe it was the memory of his hands on her body, the concern in his eyes after her van careened out of control. Or was it the fact that he hadn’t held her once he’d discovered she was okay? Or more concerning, that she’d wanted him to.
However, that didn’t explain all the other times she’d failed to climax in the past week, since she’d been unable to think of anyone but him. Not even Ryan Reynolds was doing it for her. Everyone’s face ended up transforming into Levi’s.
As the pressure on her business was building, so was the pressure inside her already too-full bottle. And for some reason that she couldn’t—or rather refused to—explain, her one release was, well … not releasing.
She felt ready to explode. She just needed to get through that weekend and everything in her life would go back to normal. Without Levi Dolson.
Levi glanced both ways down the aisle, taking in the complete lack of customers vying for her attention. “Don’t you have an assistant to help you?”
“I’m supposed to, but she hasn’t exactly been very reliable lately.”
A woman turned down their quiet corner. Her eyes shifted over the row of booths before finally landing on Zoe’s. Recognition passed over her face and she headed that way. She was probably one of the people who Natalie gave a card to the day before, Zoe thought.
Zoe sat up straight and pointed. “See? There. A customer,” she told Levi in an ‘a-ha’ tone of voice. “I have a customer. Now if you’ll excuse me.”
Levi returned to his chair, guitar resting on his chest as he strummed at random, but she could tell he was paying close attention.
As the middle-aged woman approached, Zoe smiled. “Hello. Can I help you?”
Her eyes darted around Zoe’s display, as though still not sure if it was the right place. “Actually, I wanted to talk to the other wedding planner that was here yesterday.”
So did Zoe, but she imagined for different reasons. “Actually, I’m the wedding planner for Plum Crazy Events. That was probably my assistant you were speaking to yesterday. I’m sure I can take over where she left off with you.” Zoe gripped her pen and held it eagerly over her notebook. She wrote down the date, just to make it official.
“Plum Crazy?” The woman frowned. “Actually, I’m looking to hire the girl who works for Enchanted Events. I spoke to her here yesterday. Her name was Natalie.”
Zoe blinked, trying to make sense of what she was saying. “Natalie is the name of my assistant, but I can assure you this is the booth for Plum Crazy Events. If you’re looking for Enchanted Events, that booth is somewhere over there. Way, way, way over there.” She gestured vaguely. “But my services are quite competitive. I can give you a quote to keep in the back of your mind for comparison sake.”
The woman stared at her like Zoe was playing some kind of trick on her. “No. I’m certain this was the right booth. I remember that ugly wedding dress.” She pointed at Zoe’s mannequin.
Zoe’s eyebrow arched in annoyance, but she kept the smile on her face in the hope of at least one interested customer that weekend.
The woman rifled through her purse and pulled out a pink business card. “Here it is!” She waved it in Zoe’s face like I told you so. “Natalie. Natalie Evans.”
Zoe gaped at the card. After a second, she reached out. “May I see that?”
The woman handed it over, all smug. Zoe could feel Levi reading over her shoulder, but she didn’t care. The words on the card were all she could see.
Natalie Evans. Enchanted Events. At the bottom was her title: Wedding Planner.
Zoe read the silver embossed lettering three times before it began to sink in. By the time she was finished, her hands were shaking.
“See? She was at this booth offering her services yesterday.” The woman tapped Zoe’s table insistently. “Are you a smaller affiliate or branch company?”
Zoe’s eyelashes flickered at the unintended slight. A sort of cold calm blew over her, but it felt more like the eye of a storm.
Natalie hadn’t been lying when she said she’d handed out two-dozen cards. It just wasn’t Zoe’s cards. It had been her own. Natalie was jumping ship. And not just to anyone’s ship, but Chelsea’s.
She thought back to the day before when Natalie showed up late with a bouquet of flowers from the opposite end of town from where she should have been. Had her car really broken down or had she been placing an order for a wedding she was planning? Is that where she is right now? It was Saturday, after all. And she’d used her florist.
Zoe didn’t know why that fact cut at her the most. People were free to use any florist they wanted, but Zoe had been using that one for years. She used them almost exclusively in exchange for a VIP discount. And Natalie was probably benefiting from that discount, since they knew she worked for Zoe—or rather, had worked for her.
Zoe had taught Natalie everything she knew, showed her the best retailers, how to get the best deals, all the industry secrets. And she’d taken those secrets and run straight to her competitor with them.
The betrayal was like a garter toss shot to her face. It stung.
Zoe’s mind ran over the last couple of months. The private phone calls, the weddings she hadn’t been available to assist for, the tardiness.
Her fist clenched around the pink card, crushing it.
“Hey, I need that,” the woman complained.
“Trust me. You don’t.” Zoe tossed it in her purse. “Anything would be better than Enchanted Events. And everything Natalie knows, she learned from me.” She stood up so fast she knocked her chair over. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have to go find someone.”
Zoe wasn’t aware of anything else but her hatred for Chelsea or the feeling of soft fur in her hands as she dug desperately into her purse for the solace of her Fuzzy Friend. She couldn’t focus on the booths she passed, the potential clients watching her storm by, or Levi following close behind. He was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him over her anger. All she saw, all she knew, was red.
When she’d turned down the main aisle and Chelsea came into view, Zoe squeezed the life out of Gentle Giraffe. But it had little effect at the moment.
Strangely, as their eyes met, Chelsea looked as furious as Zoe felt, which was pretty difficult, since Zoe was irate.
“You!” Zoe said like it was an accusation. “You’re trying to ruin me.”
Chelsea planted her fists on her hips. “Really? And how the hell am I doing that?”
Zoe risked letting go of Gentle Giraffe to count on her fingers, if only to keep her hands busy so they didn’t find their way around her rival’s neck. “First you stole my booth. Then you stole my potential clients. And now you’ve stolen my assistant.”
“Oh that.” Chelsea waved it off like it was old news. “Obviously she wasn’t happy with you. She moved on to greener pastures.”
This brought Zoe up short. It was hard to imagine Natalie not being happy. Zoe treated her not like just an employee but almost like a friend. She’d gone to her grandfather’s funeral to show her support, and even helped her move when her boyfriend was treating her like crap. Zoe gave Natalie regular raises, Christmas bonuses, paid vacation.
Confused by the sudden betrayal, Zoe narrowed her eyes at Chelsea. It felt so personal. “What did you say to her? What did you offer her?”
“Just some independence,” Chelsea said. “Her talents have been smothered under you. I’ve given her a position as wedding planner. She’s overseeing one as we speak.”
“She’s not ready for that,” Zoe said. “She can barely show up for work on time.” Heck, she thought, she could barely tell the difference between a horse and a donkey.
The memory of Juliet’s wedding was the final puzzle piece. She inhaled sharply. “Did Natalie sabotage the Fisher-Wells wedding?”
Chelsea shrugged a bony shoulder. “How would I know about that? I was nowhere near it.”
Zoe’s body became rigid with fury. If that wasn’t an “I can’t be held culpable” statement, she didn’t know what was. But how was Zoe supposed to prove she was set up, if that’s even what happened? There were so many ways Natalie could have accomplished it without leaving so much as a fingerprint of evidence behind.
Chelsea’s earlier anger seemed to return. She crossed her arms. “So is that why you retaliated? To get back at me for stealing Natalie?”
“Me?” Zoe laughed. “What did I ever do to you?”
There was a gasp and murmurs of surprise behind her. She spun to see those around them all facing the same direction, snapping photos, or whispering behind hands.
“Oh, my gosh!” someone said. “Is that Holly Hart?”
Zoe’s glare landed on her other least-favorite person. The platinum blonde swept down the aisle as though she could smell a story brewing. Her hairless Chinese Crested sniffed the air from Holly’s arms as though she could smell it too.
Holly’s sights honed in on Zoe and Chelsea, her sharp gaze flicking between them. The moment suddenly interrupted, Zoe realized Holly wasn’t the only one paying close attention. Being in the best location at the expo, their argument had attracted quite a crowd.
“My drama radar is going off,” Holly said. “Do I detect a story here?”
Chelsea ran to her side, grabbing her arm. “Holly Hart. Holly Hart. I’m so glad you’re here.”
The dog growled, bearing its fangs like back off, bitch. She seemed as mean as her owner.
“Watch the suit.” She shook her off. “It’s Gucci.”
Chelsea patted the bun on top of her head, making sure every hair was in place for the camera. “Have I got breaking news for you.”
“I’ll determine what’s breaking news,” Holly said, petting Jasmine. “What happened here?”
“Sabotage. That’s what. By Zoe Plum.” Chelsea’s face looked as though it was lit from within. As though this was the moment she’d been hoping would come along.
Zoe rolled her eyes, but by the confidence in Chelsea’s expression, she was almost too afraid to ask what she was talking about.
Holly looked like she was practically salivating. “Ohhh, delicious.” She twirled her finger in the air and Hey, You materialized from seemingly nowhere, his camera aimed at Zoe.
“Little Miss Perfect here couldn’t handle her jealousy of me,” Chelsea said. “Look what she did to my booth last night.” She waved her arm awkwardly, as though they were on some kind of game show and she was inviting the camera to take a panorama.
“What?” Zoe started, completely thrown by the turn of the conversation. “What are you—” Then for the first time since her tunnel vision had cleared, she caught sight of Chelsea’s booth or rather, what should have been her booth.
The ostentatious banner was ripped in half, dragging on the floor, sparkling hearts littered the aisle runner, crushed like they’d been stomped on. Décor samples and photo albums were cut to shreds.
After taking in the destruction, Zoe finally shook her head. “How could I have done this? I’ve been nowhere near your booth. I’ve been over there.” She pointed to the corner. “Way, way, way over there. Remember?”
“It happened sometime last night,” Chelsea said. “I just spoke to security and they said you came back to the hotel late after the expo closed. You were caught on camera leaving the parking garage around ten o’clock.”
“I came back to pick up my van. So what of it?” Zoe planted her hands on her hips. Not exactly the image of sweet innocence, but well, she was innocent, so she didn’t need to pretend. Besides, maybe Chelsea already knew that because she was the one who broke into her van.
“So you probably snuck in here and destroyed my booth,” Chelsea said.
“Oh please.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “What proof do you have?”
“You threatened me yesterday. You said ‘You’ll get yours.’”
Zoe heard murmurs ripple throughout the crowd. Hey, You snuck closer until the camera was practically in her face. She shoved the lens away.
“I was there,” a woman manning the next table over piped up. “I heard her say that.”
“Yeah. Me too,” said another vendor.
Zoe groaned. “I was talking about karma. I didn’t mean I was going to do anything myself. Why on earth would I want to do this?” She gestured to Chelsea’s booth.
Chelsea leaned against her table, the perfect resemblance of justified righteousness. “Because you’re jealous of me.”
“Jealous?” Zoe laughed. “What would I have to be jealous of you for? You’re a terrible wedding planner.”
Chelsea made a show of heaving a big sigh, as though she was growing weary of having to spell it all out for Zoe. “Not because of my wild success. Because of my recent engagement.”
Zoe laughed. Like she gave a damn. “Congratulations. You finally found someone to put up with you. You’re a real dream come true.”
It was like they’d switched roles. Zoe was usually the cool one in any confrontation, but she was feeling anything but at the moment. Whereas Chelsea’s calm demeanor just made Zoe look even guiltier by comparison.
Zoe decided not to feed into her game anymore and turned to head back to her corner. She wasn’t wasting any more time or room in her emotional bottle on Chelsea’s crap. But the camera stuck with her, Hey, You backpedaling in front of her.
“Well, obviously I’m more of a dream than you,” Chelsea called to her back. “Because he left you and traded up.”
Zoe’s steps faltered. “Traded up?”
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Chelsea laughed, each giggle hitting Zoe’s back like tiny little daggers. “I’m about to marry the man who left you at the altar.”
The world fell out from under Zoe’s heels, and she had to hold onto a nearby table for support. Before she’d even meant to, she reached back into her purse hoping Gentle Giraffe’s comforting power would take effect quickly.
Her breaths came faster and faster until she felt like she was going to pass out. Slowly, she spun back to face Chelsea, and the rest of the gathered crowd. Holly looked delighted.
“What did you say?” Zoe asked, although it was too quiet to hear over the beating pulse in her ears.
Chelsea spoke her next words very slowly, very clearly, just in case Zoe, or the camera, might miss one heart-wrenching word. “I’m the future Mrs. Sean Wilson.”
Zoe took these words and, with every last ounce of patience she had left in her, stuffed them deep down, then took a breath before speaking.
“You two deserve each other.” And she meant every word of it—but not in a good way.
Chelsea grinned like a joyful bride to be, coming in too close for anyone else to hear. “You’re right. We do. Obviously you didn’t deserve him, or you’d be with him right now.” She laughed, her happy expression at odds with the venom behind her words. “I guess things really do happen for a reason. If he actually showed up to your wedding day, he’d be married to you right now. And he wouldn’t be marrying the woman he belongs with. Me.”
Gentle Giraffe’s head popped off in Zoe’s hand. Beans spilled into the bottom of her purse, the same way she could start to feel her emotions spilling out of that carefully sealed bottle.
Her fists clenched, her body shook, her breaths came in hard pants like a bull about to charge. Someone screamed, a fierce, painful wail from the gut. Zoe suddenly realized it was her.
She could see it all happening, see herself losing control as everything she’d pushed deep down inside herself was erupting. It was as though she was outside herself, watching it all unfold. And she felt like there was nothing she could do but sit back and watch it all go down, just like on her wedding day.
That day had been a culmination of months of wedding stress—the planning, the calls, the meetings, the details—that seemed to explode out of her in one epic moment of grief and anger. All that work was supposed to be for one single, joyous purpose. It was supposed to be a celebration of her and Sean’s love, of their eternal union.
But it was all for nothing. Instead, the purple-and-chartreuse theme seemed to mock her. So when she couldn’t get revenge on her fiancé, she took it out on all that planning.
She shredded the freesias, tore paper lanterns from the ceiling, threw cupcakes, and all in front of the entire congregation with their pitying eyes and whispers. Zoe had lost her mind. No. Worse. She’d lost her heart, like a part of her had been removed when she’d heard the words “He’s not coming.”
And now, standing in front of a gloating Chelsea and all those people, she felt that day come back to her, the sharp stab of rejection. Sure, it was duller now, but she felt Chelsea’s announcement like a boot crushing that old scar, stepping on her chest where her heart had been ripped out.
As surprised murmurs and hushed exclamations rippled through the crowd, humiliation rang in Zoe’s ears like the whispered rumors of the congregation on her big day.
“How scandalous.”
“How awful.”
“Poor Zoe.”
She wanted to fight back, to repel the idea that she was that weak, “poor” Zoe. She was strong, and she wasn’t going to take it lying down. Nor was she going to stand for Chelsea’s accusations or poisonous attitude.
Legs that didn’t feel like hers moved toward her rival, hands balled into fists. She didn’t know what she was going to do. It almost frightened her, as though she couldn’t do anything to stop it.
Suddenly, arms wrapped around her from behind, preventing her from taking another step. She struggled against them, but they wouldn’t budge. They were firm and unyielding so she couldn’t escape, yet so gentle, so reassuring. Like a strong hug holding her together, preventing her from falling apart in that moment.
“Zoe.” Levi’s deep voice hummed in her ear. “Just let it go.”
It had been so long since a man had hugged her. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she was in a man’s arms since her father died. The touch unarmed her. And for some reason, it also infuriated her. Not the fact he was touching her, but what it did to her.
Her eyes suddenly began to sting. She didn’t need a man. And she certainly didn’t need Levi.
She ripped free and pushed him away. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to help you,” he said, holding his hands up to show he was backing off.
“I don’t need your help,” she said.
“Obviously you do,” he said calmly. “She’s just egging you on. Walk away. It’s not worth it.”
“Oh, yes it is.”
But she felt more aware of herself now and of everyone watching, watching her lose control. Something Zoe didn’t do. She was above all that now. Above caring. Above being hurt, especially by her ex-fiancé, Sean.
“Oh, what a fabulous story,” Holly purred from the sidelines.
Zoe shook her head, feeling the humility weigh down her rising emotions. “No story. Ancient history.”
Holly shrugged. “Well, it will have to do. It’s been a slow weekend at the expo. Too much lovey-dovey crap for me.”
She snapped her fingers in the air, and Hey, You was at her side in an instant, lugging the equipment through the crowd. He handed her the mic, and she stood next to Zoe as though about to interview her.
But Zoe wasn’t sticking around. She slipped away and headed for her booth. All she wanted to do was run, to disappear for the rest of the weekend.
So many curious customers lingered around them, blocking her path of escape. She desperately pushed her way past them all, ignoring their cries when she stepped on a foot or accidentally bumped someone too hard. Breaking through the other side of the thick circle, she nearly stumbled into a bakery booth with a precariously balanced five-tiered pink cake.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Holly chased after her. Her nails dug into Zoe’s arm as she tugged her back. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re my story. Like it or not, it’s happening.”
Zoe felt dazed. She just wanted to get out of there.
Levi wedged himself between the two women, like he was protecting Zoe. And she was actually grateful for it. “I’m still available for that interview, if you’d like. You know, we’ve got a big tour of California coming up.”
“The people don’t want to hear about your little boy band.”
“Rock band,” he said.
She swept him aside. “They want Zoe’s misfortunes.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” Zoe said. “I couldn’t care less about Chelsea and her sad personal life. And I didn’t vandalize her booth.” She glared down the reporter. “And if you think for one second that I’m going to let you try to ruin my reputation like you did with Addison, then you’ve got another thing coming.” She took a step forward. “I’m not as nice as Addison.”
But Holly wasn’t deterred. “Well, one way or another, I need a story out of this boring weekend. So what story am I running?” She pretended to think, fluffing up the little tuft of white hair, like bangs, on Jasmine’s head. “Maybe something along the lines of Always a Wedding Planner, Never a Bride. Think of the damage control you’ll have to do. How can you plan other people’s weddings when you can’t even make it through your own?”
Zoe closed her eyes. Great, she thought. What else can go wrong this weekend? “Please don’t.”
Holly took a moment to look her up and down before reconsidering. “Well … there’s only one other story I’m more interested in.” She grinned mischievously. “And that’s the Summers-Caldwell wedding.”
“Of course.” Zoe laughed humorlessly. “I see your angle here.”
“Little old me? An angle?” She bit her lip and fluttered her eyelashes innocently.
“I’m not throwing my best friend under the bus,” Zoe told her.
“No, no, no. Nothing as scandalous as that. People just want to feel connected, like they’re involved in the monumental occasion.” She inched the microphone closer to Zoe’s mouth. “Just a tidbit. A morsel. Nothing more. I promise.” Another eyelash flutter.
Zoe glanced back at Chelsea. She was no longer alone. A man hovered anxiously next to her, a boss-like arrogance about him, a gold name tag on his lapel.
Chelsea heaved a sigh and laid a dramatic head on his shoulder. Zoe assumed he must be her cousin, the expo coordinator. Despite her overly visible anguish, when her gaze locked with Zoe’s, she found a triumphant grin just for her. Zoe scowled back.
The coordinator turned to that beefy security guard who had dragged Juliet away the day before. The guard’s eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Zoe. Whatever the coordinator had said to him made his eyes narrow and his nostrils flare when he spotted her.
Zoe felt her heart skip a beat. She automatically glanced over her shoulder as though her primal instinct for fight or flight was kicking in and she was searching for the easiest way out. But there was another security guard rounding on her from the other end of the aisle. She was trapped.
“Tick tock,” Holly said. “Hey, You, are you ready to catch the take down?” she asked her cameraman. “I want the best angle for the five o’clock news.”
Zoe groaned, feeling the decision pull at her insides, especially after Piper said she’d wanted to keep the wedding as quiet as possible. She cringed. “Just a tidbit?”
Holly nodded eagerly, mashing the microphone against Zoe’s lips.
But Zoe pushed it away. “Off the record.”
“Of course.” She snapped her fingers and when Zoe glanced around, Hey, You had disappeared.
Zoe chewed the inside of her cheek, but on seeing Beefy charge her way, she said, “Fine. The dress is, was, a Marchesa.”
“But it’s a goner now, so what else have you got?”
“The theme is pink and navy blue.” The colors weren’t a big deal, Zoe reasoned with herself. It wasn’t critical or anything. Not like the location.
“And…” Holly coaxed.
“And the dogs are their ring bearers.” That factoid wasn’t so terrible, either. They were dog lovers. It only made sense.
She glanced down the aisle to find the security guards closing in. “Happy?” she asked the reporter.
Holly’s mouth tweaked, neither a smile or a frown. “For now.” With a wiggle of her fingers in farewell, she backed off to the sidelines for a good view as everyone else seemed to converge on her.
Chelsea drew closer for a front-row seat as the security guard reached for Zoe’s arm.
“Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to call the police?” he asked her.
“Oh, I’ll come,” she said. “But I won’t do it quietly.”
Chelsea scoffed at her, a self-satisfied look on her pinched face. “Just can’t admit when you’ve been defeated, huh?”
“No. I just figure, if I’m getting kicked out, it’s going to be for a good reason.”
Reaching for the bakery table next to her, she jammed her hand into the pink sample cake. Before Chelsea or the security guards could react, she cupped a handful of the dessert and slapped it across Chelsea’s smug face.
She gasped and sputtered, wiping the icing from her round, shocked eyes. “Screw you, Zoe Plum! I’ll get you for this!”
“There,” Zoe said, licking the remains off her fingers—mmm, pink champagne cake. “Now I’m ready.”