Theo looks over my shoulder. “Seems like the pooch has flown the coop.”
Jody appears – a look of stark horror on her face. “Talk to me, Jody,” I beg.
“I went to get Bartholomew’s raw vegan lunch from the kitchen. When I came back, he was nowhere to be found,” she says, tearful. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I try not to panic. “Get everyone you can spare, and find him. He’s old. He can’t be far.” I turn to Theo. “You go run interference with the bride. If she asks, precious Barty is off getting a special wedding pamper, OK?”
“No worries, Ginny. I’ve got this,” Theo says, and for once, I can relax. He’s my magic weapon, the ultimate bride-whisperer. I found him on a job last year, working for a photographer, right out of college. Somehow, around him, everything seemed to run smoother: the warring mother-in-laws were charmed by such a polite young man, the drunken uncles were steered safely away from the bridesmaids, and even the bride managed to calm down with a reassuring smile. I hired him away that same day, and he’s been my right-hand man ever since.
Now he heads for the bridal suite while Jody starts scouting in the bushes. Crisis averted – until I see the best man walking toward me his bowtie undone and an undone look on his face. “Hey, Ginny, I…um…we…um…have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The rings. They’re gone. I put them down on a tray next to my coffee…and then…” he trails off.
I check my watch and think about sending Theo to the nearest cheap jeweler for a couple of placeholder bands. But there’s no time. The ceremony is due to start in ten minutes.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him, my mind racing. “I’ve got this.”
I reach for the chain hanging around my neck with two rings dangling from it. My parents’ rings. They died in a car accident when I was nine, and I like to keep their rings with me for luck, especially for a big wedding. I guess today they really are a lucky charm.
“Here, use these.” I tell him, pressing them into his hand. “They’ll work for the ceremony, and we can switch them out later.”
Relief floods his face. “You’re a lifesaver.” He grabs the rings and crushes me in a quarterback’s hug.
“Whoa, just make sure you keep hold of those.” I detangle myself and smooth down my dress. “Now you go get into place with the groom, OK?”
“Yes, coach!”
He heads off, and I hear something even more beautiful than the string quartet’s rendition of Pachelbel’s Canon. It’s the sound of barking. I look around and find Jody gripping Bartholomew tight. “Theo found Bartholomew! I’m going to get him to the groomer to get that seafood smell off of him.”
“Seafood smell?”
“Seems like ol’ Bart found his way to the bacon-wrapped scallops.”
“A dog after my own heart,” I grin, relieved. “What about the bride?”
“All dressed up and ready to go.”
I let out a long breath of relief. We pause and look out at out the scene: friends and family all lined up in their seats, the water shining beside them under a canopy of green. It’s beautiful: just the way I’d want my wedding to look.
“You really hit it out of the park this time, Ginny.” Theo grins, holding up his hand for a high five. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Ask me once they make it to ‘I do’,” I laugh. On a wedding day, anything is possible.
I watch the ceremony from a discreet post off to the side, giving my silent cue to the musicians, and the man poised to release two dozen heart-shaped balloons after the vows. I keep an eye on my parents’ rings as they sparkle during their big moment. Somehow, the bride doesn’t even notice the substitute rings as she gazes into her new husband’s eyes and leans in for that first, perfect kiss.
I breathe a sigh of relief. From here on out, it’s smooth sailing. Even if the reception is a disaster, and somebody has an allergic reaction to the cake, and somebody else’s crazy uncle starts stripping to the Macarena, the couple won’t mind. All they’ll remember is the ceremony, and how it went off without a hitch. My work here is done.
As the crowd cheers and the newlyweds make their way back up the aisle, something else catches my eye. Or rather, someone else. Across the dock, a dark-haired woman in a designer suit lurks, watching the scene. Unlike the expressions on the faces of the invited guests, which range from “happy for the bride” to “dang, how much did that dress cost?” this woman has her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. I quickly run through emergency protocols. A jealous ex-girlfriend? Scorned client? I’m about to run interference when I notice she’s not paying attention to the happy couple, she’s looking at everything else: the flowers, the decorations, the band. When she sees me, she brightens, and comes cutting through the crowd.
“Ginnifer Austen?” she asks.
“That’s me.”
“I’m Marcie Miller,” she says with a bright smile and strong handshake. She’s about my age, with a fashionable choppy haircut and oversized gold statement jewelry. “Can I have a moment of your time?”
I glance around to see guests dispersing. Sarah and James are climbing into their rented Corvette, and I’ve already double-checked with the reception venue that everything’s ready to go. “Just for a minute,” I tell her. “I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“It was a gorgeous ceremony,” she says, still smiling brightly. “Great work. I won’t waste your time.” Marcie plucks a business card from her bag, “I’m with Star! Networks. I produce Park Avenue Princesses,” she says as though I should know what that is.
“Are you looking for a wedding planner?” I ask, still confused. “If you call my office and make an appointment—”
“Not for me,” Marcie laughs. “For Pixie and Clyde.”
Again, I have no idea what she’s talking about. “Who now?”
“Pixie and Clyde!” Theo’s voice comes from behind me, excited. He sees my blank expression and rolls his eyes. “Duh? They’re pretty much the reality TV it-couple.” He catches himself. “I mean, I’ve seen a couple of episodes. At the gym. The girls are always putting it on. While I lift weights. Big weights.”
“That’s great,” I say, puzzled. “But I really don’t have time—”
Marcie cuts me off again. “They’re getting married in the fall, and we’re looking for a wedding planner for the show.”
“On TV?”
Marcie looks at me like I’m insane. “Of course on TV. It’ll be a special episode, massive ratings draw. My team will call and set up a meeting, OK? We can’t wait to hear your ideas.”
“Now, wait a minute,” I try to protest, but she’s already stalked away.
Theo whistles and takes her card from my hand. “Big-shot. This could be the break you’ve been waiting for.”
“Or a total disaster,” I laugh, snatching it back. “I don’t even want to be on TV.”
“Not you, the brand.” Theo explains. “Do you realize the kind of free publicity you’d get doing something like this? Franc-Giorgio designed the gown for the last Bachelorette. There’s now a six-month waiting list just to get a consultation. He’s like a millionaire!”
I pause, considering.
“Plus, you’d make Kara green with envy,” Theo adds.
Now that I think about. Kara deKline is my big rival on the wedding planner scene. She’s been trying to poach my clients for years, rips off all my wedding ideas, and generally tries to put me out of business. If this Marcie could help put my business on the map, maybe I shouldn’t dismiss her so quickly.
“Fine,” I agree. “One meeting.”
“There’s my girl,” Theo cheers. “How bad could it be?”
What happens next? Ginny’s job of a lifetime is going to take her back home to face the ex she left behind. Sparks will fly!
BEACH WEDDING is available now!
The Art of Stealing Hearts Page 11
