Chapter 21

Callie

It was the day of the wedding for my most stressful clients, and I was up at five. On wedding days like this, I tried to get going as early as possible. The ceremony started at four that afternoon, officially, but I had a hell of a lot to do before then.

I showered, changed, blew out my hair and put on one of my wedding dress suits that I kept for these occasions. I made sure I looked professional enough that everyone knew who I was without having to guess, but I looked festive enough to blend into the wedding crowd.

Isaiah met me at the office at seven so we could drive together.

“You look great, doll,” he said. “More radiant than usual.”

“Really?” I asked, looking down at my clothes. “You’ve seen me in this a hundred times.”

Isaiah shook his head. “There’s something about you.”

“Well, you look great too,” I said. Isaiah had chosen to put on a plum-colored collared shirt with a tie the same color and black suit pants. It was a very Isaiah outfit, but I had learned to roll with what he chose to wore to distinguish himself from the others. I chose professional elegance. Then again, I wasn’t always sure what he wanted the others to distinguish him as, a wedding coordinator or something else.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We stopped by at the mother of the bride’s house at seven thirty. She was already up and dressed in an elegant navy dress suit — as per my recommendation for photos — and she had adorned herself with pearls and rings that showed off her wealth. She was the one throwing all the money at me to make this wedding one of the best the town has ever seen.

“The girls are still sleeping, but they’re up for breakfast at nine, and we start hair and make-up at ten.”

I glanced at my wristwatch, counting the hours they had left until they had to be ready.

“I don’t want any girls doing hair and make-up later than one. The photographer is coming to you at two to start the photos, but she wants to get shots of the girls helping the bride into her dress.”

“I’ll be sure of it. You sent me your list.”

We left the house and headed to the venue.

“The bride never looked that excited about the wedding,” Isaiah said, reflecting on the older woman’s joy.

“Maybe she’s just not as expressive.”

“Or maybe she’s just not feeling it,” Isaiah countered.

I shot a glare at him. “I know they look terrible together, but we can’t doom this. We work with adults who can make their own life decisions. All we can do is make sure our side of the deal runs smoothly.”

“You’re so practical,” Isaiah sighed.

“You’re hopelessly romantic,” I said.

We stopped at the venue and unlocked for the decorator and the florist so they could start setting up. The caterer arrived shortly after. Isaiah oversaw the reception room going through its transformation while I ensured the cake made its way safely to the kitchen and no one dropped a single platter of hors d’oeuvres.

By noon, we were almost set up and everything was going smoothly. I stopped to eat lunch, and Isaiah joined me outside.

“Is the photographer going to the bride first and then the groom for their prep photos?” I asked.

Isaiah shook his head. “The photographer is tag teaming. I arranged for a second camera to take care of the men. This wedding would never work if they had to share. Too much ego between the two of them. It was bound to clash.”

“You’re a saint,” I said.

Isaiah grinned. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

We ate in silence for a while before round two started. Isaiah and I split up to check on the bride and groom respectively. I headed to the groom because they were uncomfortable with Isaiah. They were all straight men with very serious views on homosexuality, and the girls all loved Isaiah.

The groom’s entourage was huge. He had five groomsmen. The groom’s cousins and father were also present for the photo.

“Are we ready, gents?” I asked when it was time to start packing them into the limo.

“Ready as I’m ever going to be,” the groom said. “Let’s get this shit show started.”

The wording was ominous, and I hoped it didn’t mean there would be drama. This wedding seemed to be doomed from the start.

I drove behind the limousine filled with men and parked at the venue. I escorted the men inside, setting them up where they needed to be. Isaiah arrived at a quarter to four with the bride.

“You’re on time,” I said.

Isaiah nodded. “I nearly had a runner. The bride is an emotional wreck. But she’s here on time, she’s dressed and her make-up is as intact as I could keep it.”

It wasn’t the first time I had been grateful Isaiah had managed the women. I couldn’t handle the mental meltdowns, and he always seemed to take it in stride.

The bride stood in her position, the music started, the bridesmaids walked in, and the bride followed. I brought up the rear, watching the whole ceremony from afar.

It didn’t take very long before they were married, despite the brief hesitations during their vows, and by four thirty, they were married.

“First half taken care of,” Isaiah said and high-fived me when we were alone in the foyer. We had to usher out guests to have drinks while the newlyweds took their wedding photos. After that, it was family photos, a sit-down dinner, speeches and finally, dancing.

After the speeches, things started going south. The bride was getting louder and louder, and it looked like she was getting upset with her new husband. Her voice rose above the music, and guests started turning their heads, noticing her for the wrong reasons.

“She’s had too much Champagne,” I said.

“And too much of everything else, including resentment,” Isaiah pointed out. We walked to the bride, but she was already shouting. Their disagreement had become a full-on fight in front of everyone.

“Honey, come, we need to check your make-up,” Isaiah said, taking the bride gently by the arm and pulling her away.

“I’m not doing this!” she shouted. “I can’t do forever with this.”

“All you need is a glass of water and some Tylenol in the morning,” Isaiah said in a soothing voice. I walked to the groom, who was seething.

“For the sake of both your families, could you keep it until after you’re alone?” I asked him.

He glared at me. “Yeah, tell that to her,” he said. And I knew he was right. With the alcohol in her system, the bride had been the one to start the scene and finish it.

“It’s almost over,” I said to the groom.

He sighed. “No, Callie. It’s only just started.”

My heart went out to the man. No one deserved to be that unhappy on their wedding day. I had seen so many happy grooms despite how uncomfortable they were with the show that getting married had become.

“I’m going to check on her, but it would be good if you could apologize to your guests,” I said.

The groom nodded and walked to the podium with the microphone. I heard his voice by the time I reached the ladies’ room. Isaiah’s voice sounded through the door. He was talking her down. I wouldn’t interfere because he was better at this than I was. I turned to notice her bridesmaids clustered around the signature book.

“They should never have gone through with it,” the maid of honor said.

“It’s Diane.” The bride’s mother was Diane. “She’s the one who loved him so much she had to set him up with her daughter. And she had the money to throw around with her iron fist.”

“She forced them into a lifetime of misery. They’ll be lucky if they last a year.”

My heart sank. Hearing what the ladies said after I had heard the groom’s despair left a bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t like it when people ended up unhappy, even if the event ran smoothly. Logistically, the wedding had been beautiful. Everything had run on time, the decorator had done everything according to plan, and nothing had gone wrong with the catering. It had been the perfect wedding.

But perfection meant nothing without love, and it was terribly lacking in this case.

When Isaiah returned with the bride from the ladies’ room, her make-up was where it should be, and she had a fake smile on her face. Isaiah sighed with billowed cheeks.

“I can’t thank you enough for handling that.”

“It’s not my marriage, thank God,” Isaiah said quietly. “This was never meant to be.”

I nodded. “I noticed.”

“Let’s get this behind us so we can get out of here,” Isaiah said. He wanted to get away from the doomed ever after as much as I did.

Seeing the couple so desperately unhappy made me realize how good Abigail and Carter had it. They looked like they were going to make it work. Sure, there would be ups and downs. There always were. But they loved each other, and they knew what it meant to spend a life together, especially with Carter having been married before.

Abigail had never mentioned it to me before. I wondered if she knew. She had to if they had already obtained the marriage license. Carter would have had to mention it to the priest during the process.

The wedding finally ended, and Isaiah and I left as soon as we could. The venue’s clean-up crew would handle the rest, and Isaiah and I both silently agreed we needed a drink to shake this one off.

“Mind if I invite Abigail? Carter is off to Vegas for his bachelor party, so she’s alone tonight.”

“Of course. You know I love her,” Isaiah said.

We met Abigail at a cocktail bar half an hour later.

“How was the wedding?” she asked.

I shook my head. “One of those that was perfect and perfectly sad,” I said.

Abigail frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. So many people make mistakes. I can see why you were worried about me. You must see a lot of those.”

Isaiah and I both nodded. “Too many for my liking,” Isaiah said.

“But if I must be honest with you, I don’t think you’re in danger of being unhappy. You and Carter have something special even if it happened so fast.”

Abigail grinned with the starry-eyed look she always got when we talked about Carter. “I’m so glad you think so. But enough about wedding talk. Tonight, I want to spend time with my two friends, drinking and having fun like the good old days. Before long, we won’t get to do this so often.”

We raised our glasses and clinked them together.

“To a friendship through thick and thin,” I said.

“To a friendship despite love,” Isaiah said.

“To the best of people,” Abigail concluded, and we drank.

I was so lucky to have Abigail in my life. When I’d learned she was marrying Carter, I’d been scared I would lose her. I knew I would see her less, but she would never let this slide, and as long as she was happy, I was happy for her.

We talked about the good old days, laughed about ex-boyfriends and the trouble we had got into. We drank until we were slightly tipsy, and we dreamed about what our futures would be like. Happiness was a welcome guest at our table, and I knew it was here to stay.