Chapter 1

Frankie

I stared beyond my desk at the row of windows on the far end of the room. It was bright outside, one of the first days of sun in nearly a week. Portland’s streets would be bursting with life as the glittering rays drew out its citizens and tourists with the promise of warmth and light. I wished I could be out there too, and was considering calling it a day when my office manager, Julia, came by with the mail.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you in here today, Aurelio,” she commented, tossing a stack of envelopes onto my desk.

I laughed. “Why?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

I cocked a brow. “And you don’t think I should work Valentine’s Day?”

“I just thought you’d be busy with your bow and arrow.” The young redhead mimed shooting an arrow toward Vince, the graphic designer whose desk sat facing mine. He clutched his chest dramatically and groaned.

I chuckled and shook my head.

“My clients are already in love by the time they get to me. Trust me, I would make a poor matchmaker.”

Julia didn’t usually linger to chat, but she pushed her glasses further up her nose and asked, “Got any jobs on the go?”

I noticed the pink staining her cheeks and wondered if her sudden interest in my work had anything to do with the sultry smile Vince sent her way.

“I’ve got a couple coming up this summer,” I replied.

“Only a couple?”

“I can only take on a few weddings a year since I spend a lot of time with my clients.”

Her longing glances toward Vincent indicated she wasn’t really listening, so I didn’t tell her about my blog or online consultation services.

She finally moved on with a cheery, “Good luck!” and I pulled the stack of mail toward me and began to comb through it.

The only piece that wasn’t spam or a bill was a postcard from Barbados. I flipped it over, smiling as I read the familiar loopy handwriting.

The card was from my latest client, Olive Waller—Olive Dennington now, I supposed. She and her husband were having a whale of a time on their honeymoon, and she said she couldn’t thank me enough for making their big day such a success. It seemed like only yesterday that Olive and I were sipping champagne in the bridal suite while her mother flapped around us like a baby bird. Half my job was keeping Mrs. Waller calm, and it had been quite the job. I would miss Olive and her kooky family.

With an air of satisfaction, I pinned the card next to the others on the cork board beside my desk. Olive’s addition brought my collection up to seven in total. Not all of my clients sent postcards from their honeymoons, but the seven who had were undoubtedly my favorites, and I displayed the cards proudly. After the initial surge of happiness wore off, however, a pang of sadness hit me right in the gut.

I couldn’t help it. It was Valentine’s Day, after all, and I was alone. Having reminders of other people’s marital bliss staring at me all day long was a great way to motivate myself for work, but it sucked on days like this when loneliness hung around my neck like a noose.

The name of my business, Always the Bridesmaid, was beginning to seem a little cruel.

Then again, I didn’t intend to get married anytime in the near future, even if there were a man in my life. Been there, done that. But would it hurt to have a little something more to go home to on Valentine’s Day than a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and my vibrator?

I sighed and continued gazing at the blinking cursor on my laptop. So far, I’d managed all of twenty words for my Valentine’s Day blog post.

“Hey,” Vince whispered.

I looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“So, you’re like a dating coach, right?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m a wedding planner, plus a little extra.”

Vince frowned and the entirety of his shaved head seemed to crinkle. Most of the people who worked in my shared office had no idea what I did, which was more my fault than any of theirs. I talked to Julia from time to time, but most of the other people rotated in and out or kept different schedules than me. It seemed like a waste of energy trying to talk to all of them.

“What’s the little extra?” Vince asked.

“I also perform all the maid of honor duties,” I said. “I organize the bachelorette, go dress shopping, provide emotional support, that kind of thing.”

“Isn’t the maid of honor usually the bride’s best friend or something?”

I rankled. I had this conversation a lot. “Yes.”

“So these women are hiring you to be their best friend?”

“Is that so wrong? It’s hard having to go through the stress of a wedding without knowing you’ve got someone at your side you can rely on.”

Vince’s eyes widened, and he nodded slowly.

I sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m a little bit stressed out today.”

“Totally. Totally.” He glanced toward the far end of the room, where Julia’s desk sat. “Do you think you can help me ask Julia out?”

I regretted apologizing. I regretted coming into work today.

“That’s not what I do,” I replied in a flat tone as I exited out of all the windows on my laptop and prepared to shut it down. When I couldn’t focus and people started to annoy me this much, it meant I needed a change of scenery.

My work phone buzzed on the desk. I looked at the number, but it wasn’t familiar. I considered letting it go to voicemail, but since I hadn’t left the office yet I figured it would be rude not to pick up. Plus, this way I wouldn’t have to answer any more questions from Vince.

“Always the Bridesmaid,” I answered brightly.

“Hi!” came a cheerful voice. “My name is Valerie Fieldman, and I just got engaged!”

Joy whizzed through me and banished the dark cloud over my head in an instant. This girl sounded like pure sunshine, and that was exactly what I needed. Plus, the thrill of a potential new client always did wonders for my mood.

“Congratulations Valerie! That’s very exciting.”

“I know!” she said. “I want to start work on my wedding planning right away, and I knew the first thing I had to do was score myself a perfect maid of honor. Are you taking on new clients?”

Wow. I was used to a more reluctant bride. I performed an unconventional service, so it was understandable that most brides asked a ton of questions before they would even consider setting up a consultation.

“That depends,” I said. “When are you hoping to have the wedding?”

“Exactly one year today. If you’re all booked, I might cry.”

I chuckled. “Don’t worry, Valerie. I’ve got plenty of availability around that time.”

“That’s music to my ears!”

I admired this woman’s enthusiasm and could not wait to meet her.

Brides typically fell into one of two categories—anxious or excited. The two categories sometimes blurred into one another, but for the most part, a bride’s behavior would remain consistent. Each type came with her own set of challenges. Anxious brides fell victim to their emotions and sometimes needed rescuing from worry spirals. Excited brides, on the other hand, were more likely to descend into a daydream that involved nothing but pink champagne and pedicures, even though there was work to do.

Wedding planning always relied on some input from the bride, and my brand of wedding planning was more a partnership than anything else. I had a good feeling about Valerie though, and we made arrangements to meet the following afternoon.

I ended my call and finished closing down my laptop. My mood had improved, but a change of scenery was still in the cards. I couldn’t wait to get outside and enjoy some sunshine.

Vince caught my eye as I stood to go. “New client?”

“Yup,” I replied happily.

“Another postcard for your wall soon?” He pointed to the cork board. “I assume those are all from clients.”

“They are.” Pride bubbled in my chest, and I grinned. “And maybe. We’ll see how our meeting goes.”

“Hey, before you go.” He jerked his head in the direction of Julia’s desk. “What do I do?”

I considered reminding him that I was a wedding planner, not a dating coach, but the guy obviously needed a little help if he was badgering someone he barely knew for dating advice. Plus, I was feeling a little more forgiving after my chat with Valerie.

“Just go talk to her,” I said. “Seriously, it’s that easy. If she seems into it, ask her what she’s doing later.”

Vince sighed. My advice was not the game-changing words of wisdom he’d been looking for, but he acted on it anyway. Vince rose and walked to the other side of the office while I hefted my backpack onto my shoulder and headed to the elevator.

It was a quick walk to my apartment building. Living in the heart of Portland was expensive but worth it. The city teemed with artists and free thinkers of all kinds, and each time I stepped outside my door, I discovered something new. I had lots to keep me entertained—live music, festivals, plays, markets—and the variety of food was second to none. I grew up in the shadows of New York’s skyscrapers and, in many ways, Portland reminded me of home, only it was way smaller, and I liked the weather a lot more.

I dropped my bag off in my empty apartment. The sound of the canvas hitting my couch seemed to echo in the airy space and I retreated to the chattering streets, where people sang and yelled and cars honked at each other as the sun made everything glow.

I meandered up through Pioneer Courthouse Square, picking my way through the tourists and locals lounging on the red-bricked stairs of the amphitheater, then slowly wound my way down the bustling streets toward the river. The riverfront park was full of people, seniors to teenagers, business people to the homeless, all sitting on the grass or wandering about as they soaked in the sun’s healing rays. I claimed a spot on the railing overlooking the Morrison Bridge and thought about my new wedding. I hadn’t done a winter wedding for some time and I couldn’t wait to get started.

I would be the first to admit that I lived vicariously through my clients and that it probably wasn’t healthy, but how could I help it? For a few months, I became one of the most important people in these women’s lives, and together we created something sensational and beautiful. I got to give them the experience I never had. It was addicting. Their triumphs became my triumphs, and their problems helped block out my own. It was like guest starring in another person’s world and leaving my own anxieties behind. Who wouldn’t want that?