“I’ll take the lead on this,” Jason said, pulling a leather-bound file from his case. “But I will be asking for your input.”
I nodded, starting to feel a little nervous.
“This is going to go great, Jen,” Jason said softly. I looked up at him, surprised—his words were as close to kind and supportive as I had ever heard this guy get. Jason was looking at me, a relaxed, confident expression on his face.
Before I could answer, the waiter reappeared. Next to him stood a short blond girl. Her face was pretty, her smile so large it seemed in danger of stretching right off her cheeks. Behind her was a tall man, also blond, a very all-American football type.
Jason and I immediately stood, smiling to greet our guests, snapping into schmooze mode faster than you could say “commission”.
“Kiki! Eric! It’s so wonderful to see you again!” To see Jason’s face you would assume the two people before him were his closest friends.
He stepped forward to kiss Kiki’s cheek. “You look lovely tonight, dear, absolutely lovely.” He turned his attention to the man behind her. “Eric, great to see you, man.” He reached out to shake his hand.
I couldn’t help but feel impressed, watching Jason in action. His face was completely alight, his voice enthusiastic without being over the top. There was a slight change in his inflection when he addressed the two of them—with Kiki he was charming, almost flirtatious, but when he directed his attention to Eric, he immediately, almost imperceptibly, transitioned into guy’s guy mode. He certainly wasn’t messing around here.
“Let me introduce you to Jen Campbell,” he said warmly, gesturing toward me. “She’s going to be working with us. You’ll love her, she’s absolutely wonderful.”
I knew he was playing to the client and ordered myself not to feel flattered. Instead, I plastered a huge smile on my face and shook hands with the couple.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” I gushed.
“Oh Jen,” Kiki breathed, squeezing my hand and leaning close to me. “I’m so happy to have another girl on the team. Oh, this is going to be so much fun! Just you wait, the two of us are going to be the best of friends!”
I managed to not roll my eyes at this over the top ridiculousness. Instead I kept my smile plastered firmly on and squeezed her hand right back.
“Let’s sit,” Jason said, gesturing for Kiki and Eric to take their seats. “We have so much to talk about!”
“Mom and Daddy are going to be joining us later for coffee,” Kiki said happily as Eric pushed her chair in for her. “They had an early dinner to attend, but they’re so totally excited to meet you guys.”
I felt a flash of fear at the idea of meeting David Barker so early in the process, but I pushed it down. This was the world in which I worked, and I wasn’t about to let anyone see how much I didn’t really belong.
I took mental notes on the couple before me as we made small talk and perused the menu. I knew from experience that the definitive deciding factor in our success was getting a feel for the bride and groom and forming a relationship with them. Eric seemed amiable to me, but quiet. More than likely he had accepted by now the inevitability that he would be completely overshadowed by the hurricane force that was his fiancée.
Kiki was the most energetic, happy, excited human being I had ever come across. I had a feeling her sweetness was genuine; despite her massive wealth I detected no note of snobbishness in her demeanor. She talked a mile a minute, her voice just short of being annoyingly high-pitched. She used her entire body: she threw her hands around with abandon, leaning forward to make her point, turning her body in the direction of the person she was addressing. After ten minutes, I was completely exhausted.
We drank white wine, ate prosciutto, and discussed, in detail, Kiki’s vision for the wedding.
She wanted a fairy theme. I kid you not. Fairies. For a twenty-four-year-old.
In Kiki’s mind, the fairy theme encompassed a vast array of seemingly disparate ideas. She wanted crystals on just about everything, and feathers on everything else. She thought a posh night club area would be “so completely, totally, awesome” for the cocktail hour. She wanted all the females in the wedding party to wear tiaras and thought it would be “super great” if the guys wore top hats (Eric perked up a little at this, shaking his head in what I could only assume was mute horror).
By the time our plates had been cleared and the coffee brought over, I felt a little dizzy. For the first time in my life, I was actually grateful for Jason. He somehow managed to keep an interested expression on his face, nodding and agreeing in all the right places, even asking questions. This left me free to feverishly write down everything Kiki was saying—a plus in my book because it prohibited me from having to respond much.
Kiki talked, without interruption, until the waiter returned yet again with another couple. They were both tall, very good-looking, and exuded an air of confidence and power you only found in the very wealthy.
“Mom! Daddy!” Kiki squealed, standing up and running around the table to hug them. From the excitement she was displaying at their appearance, one would assume she hadn’t seen her parents in a very long time, though I knew that she, in fact, still lived with them in their mansion in Bloomfield Hills.
“Guys, I want you to meet my parents, David and Veronica,” she said, turning back to me and Jason. We both stood immediately, accepting their handshakes and smiling like our lives depended on it.
“Mr. and Mrs. Barker, we’ve just been listening to Kiki’s and Eric’s ideas for the wedding,” Jason said once we had all taken our seats. He leaned back in his chair and smiled comfortably at the couple. “You’ve given us so much to think about. I can tell already this wedding is going to be a smash.”
Kiki beamed at him, but I noticed David was rolling his eyes.
“Did she give you all this crap about fairies?” he asked, as he added some cream to his wife’s coffee for her.
“Daddy!” Kiki exclaimed. “It’s not crap! Fairies are totally in!”
“I think, darling,” Veronica said calmly, “that Daddy’s point is that this is a very important social event for us. A lot of people are going to be there, important people that Daddy works with.”
I wondered fleetingly if Mrs. Barker always talked to her daughter like she was seven.
“I want you to have the wedding of your dreams, Kik,” David said, leaning back in his chair. “But it needs to be appropriate.”
“That’s where we come in, Mr. Barker,” Jason said, leaning forward. “We’ve gotten a great sense from Kiki about her interests and what she would like to see at the wedding. She’s clearly given it a lot of thought, and that’s great.”
I nodded feverishly at his side, smiling at Kiki, and feeling more than a little grossed out by my own ass- kissing.
“Our job now is to take the different ideas you’ve given us and form a cohesive plan for your events,” Jason continued. “A good event planner doesn’t give you every little detail you want regardless of how it fits in. A good planner will take your ideas and incorporate them into an elegant, classy affair.”
I looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Barker. Both of them were smiling slightly at Jason, clearly eating up all the crap he was spewing.
“We’ll walk you through every decision, every step of the way. I’ll primarily be dealing with your vendors and overseeing things, getting input from you both and your parents. I’m going to ask Jen here to buddy up with you, Kiki. She’ll be your right hand for everything—dress shopping, color scheme, flowers, you name it.”
I figured Jason would want to operate this way—swanning around making phone calls, talking money, feeling important, while I did all the grunt work with the bride. Typical.
But I couldn’t dwell on any irritation, because Kiki was smiling at me now, a terrifyingly wide smile, and I had to smile back and assure her that I was just, like, so excited to be working with her.
Jason nodded at me, my cue to take over, and I wonde
red where on earth I should start. I knew the Barker family was all looking at me, waiting for me to talk, and I ordered myself not to panic. Instead, I appraised the bride closely, then leaned toward her. “Kiki, tell me, what one thing are you most excited about for this wedding?”
“Oh, becoming Eric’s wife. Definitely, definitely becoming Mrs. Thompson.” She looked up at her fiancé and smiled radiantly. He returned her gaze, an expression of pure adoration on his face. Ah, sweet. They were really in love with each other.
I smiled at her again, and this time I didn’t have to fake it.
“I think that goes without saying,” I said. “But when it comes to wedding details—flowers, music, food, the cake—what are you most excited to pick out?”
She paused for a moment, then her face lit up. “The dress!”
I nodded at her, making a note in my file. “I think that’s a wonderful place to start,” I told her. “The dress sets the tone for the entire event. How you look on your day will determine how you feel on your day, and how you feel will determine what this wedding is really all about.”
Kiki and her parents all nodded, seemingly enraptured by my words. I felt a small swell of pride. I was good at this.
“I would love to make some appointments for you,” I told Kiki. “We can plan a really fun day with your bridesmaids, your mom, whomever you like. We can do lunch and get you into some dresses. How does that sound?”
“Oh, Jen,” she sighed. “That sounds like so much fun. Yes, please, let’s do that!”
“Wonderful. I’ll make the arrangements.”
Over Kiki’s head, Jason was looking at me, and I wasn’t so sure how I felt about the expression on his face. He looked pleased, impressed, and something else…something almost…calculating.
Chapter Five
‘There are many pressures you must deal with when planning the wedding. Unfortunately, oftentimes those pressures come from within your family. In addition to your desires, you will also have to consider the expectations of other members of your family, particularly your parents. The simple truth is your parents can put a great amount of pressure on you. If you can keep in mind the fact that they love you, you should be able to deal with this pressure with grace. And if not, that’s what the cocktails at the reception are for!’—The Bride’s Guide to a Fabulous Wedding
Before long, the Barker wedding had completely taken over my life. I spoke with Kiki several times every day; I think she had moved me to number one on her speed dial. I was now having lunch with her a few times a week to discuss her ideas.
I had asked her to start clipping pictures from magazines to create idea boards, a favorite technique of mine. Usually my clients had a good time with the task, a throwback to elementary school days and collages in art class—plus, it really did give me a good sense of what they were picturing.
Kiki had exceeded all of my expectations—and assumptions about common sense—when she met me for lunch one day with no fewer than ten full sized poster boards of magazine clippings. “I did one whole one for the dress; I just found so many I liked, I couldn’t decide. So then I decided I may as well make a separate one for the flowers, and the color scheme, and the favors…”
Working with Kiki was, in a word, overwhelming. But I was surprised to find it was also kind of fun. Her enthusiasm and excitement were contagious.
Nevertheless, when Friday rolled around, I found myself nearly delirious with happiness at the thought of having two full days off. There was some work I would need to get done at home but I was hopeful that I could get through the weekend without having to talk to Jason or Kiki.
At six on the dot I shut down my computer, packed up my bag, and slipped out of the office as quickly and as quietly as I could, determined not to be stopped by anyone. When I finally pulled my Jeep into the driveway of our little yellow house, I sighed with relief. I was free.
I walked into the house and was met with an alarming sight. Ginny and Annie were both dressed head to toe in spandex, jumping around the living room while punching and kicking energetically.
“What the hell are you guys doing?”
“Light It Up!” Ginny gasped, kicking her leg behind her while simultaneously trying to spin her hips.
“Light what up?” I asked, completely baffled.
“No, that’s what it’s called,” Annie said, wiping her forehead before she raised her arms and mimed attacking a punching bag. She took a huge leap backwards and, for the first time, I could see that the television was on and they were mimicking the movements of a rather scary looking woman in a leotard.
“Are you guys doing an exercise tape?” I asked, aghast. My friends and I prided ourselves on never, ever doing aerobics of any kind. It was so not our style. We were more prone to rambling walks (perfect for gossiping) or energetic dancing (perfect for drinking).
“Yes,” Ginny huffed. “And shut up about it, it’s really good.”
Unfortunately, at that moment, Ginny tried to accomplish a kind of twisting shimmy, followed by a roundhouse kick, and she nearly toppled over. I felt completely justified in laughing at her.
“I’m going in my room,” I snickered. “You two enjoy yourselves out here.”
I carefully maneuvered around them, the instructor’s cries of, “Give me energy people! It comes from inside!” following me down the hall.
Once safe in my room, I changed immediately into yoga pants and an old t-shirt and flopped down on my bed, determined not to move for at least the next half hour. I was exhausted and it felt so nice to be back in normal clothes again.
Before I could really relax, the iPhone on my bedside table started ringing. I groaned. If it was Kiki or Jason, I would have to answer it. I could just see my perfect weekend of relaxation shriveling before my eyes. Swearing under my breath, I picked it up and looked at the display. To my intense relief, it was my mother.
“Hey, Mom,” I said.
“Hi, Jen! How are you, sweetie?” My mother’s voice was warm, familiar. I hadn’t seen her in several weeks and I felt a pang of missing her.
“I’m good Mom; tired. How are you?”
“Fine, fine. Very busy, you know.”
I could imagine. Mom worked in real estate and was constantly on the go, constantly working. She was very motivated, my mother.
“How’s Lou?” I asked.
“Oh, your father is fine. He’s closing on four houses this week, can you imagine?”
Lou Carney was not, in fact, my father. He had met my mother when she became a real estate agent in his firm, and they had married when I was fourteen. Lou had been a wonderful stepfather to me, absolutely wonderful, but I still couldn’t manage to call him Dad. It felt too disloyal.
“Wow, that’s pretty impressive,” I replied.
“It’s nothing like what we used to do,” she sighed. “But, considering the situation, we can’t complain.”
My mother was referring to the recent collapse in the housing market. It had hit Michigan particularly hard, and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. But Lou and my mom had not been deterred. Instead, they started waking up earlier, leaving work later, taking on more and more clients, switching their focus to short sales and foreclosures. They were doing fairly well as far as I could see. Another success story for the Dynamic Duo of Carney and Carney.
“How’s work for you, sweetheart?” This was absolutely typical of my conversations with my mom. We would exhaust all matters professional quite thoroughly before moving on to anything personal (if there was time, of course).
I settled down into my pillows and told her all about the new account, knowing she would be thrilled by the opportunity I had. She didn’t disappoint: when I told her the wedding was for the Barker family, she actually gasped out loud.
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s absolutely wonderful!” she exclaimed when I was finished. “I’m so proud of you. What a step up!” I noted that she didn’t ask why I hadn’t called her sooner. I hadn’t expected her to. My mot
her would assume that, given such an opportunity, I would spend my valuable time getting down to work, not calling everyone I knew to blather the news.
“Now, darling,” she said, and there was a tone to her voice that I did not like, but was very familiar with. “Are you sure it’s okay to be home for the weekend quite so early?”
I sighed. It was coming up on seven on a Friday night, but to my mother, that was hardly time to knock off work.
“I have work to do from home, Mom,” I explained, trying not to sound defensive. “Kiki and Jason have my number and can call any time; they both know that.”
“I just want to make sure you’re putting in your top effort on this, sweetie. It’s so vital that you make a good impression on these people.”
“I understand that, Mother. I’ve been working very hard.”
“You can never work too hard, Jen. I hope if I’ve taught you anything over the years, it’s that.”
“You have, Mom. Like I said, I brought lots of work home with me.”
“Well then,” she said, sounding much happier, “you probably want to get right back to it, don’t you?”
“Yup,” I muttered, feeling incredibly childish and lazy all of a sudden.
“I’ll let you go then. Do let me know how it’s going, won’t you?”
“Of course, Mom. Give my love to Lou, okay?”
“I will. Say hello to the girls. Goodbye, sweetheart. I love you. I’m so proud of you! Do a fabulous job, okay?”
“Bye, Mom,” I said. “I love you.”
I ended the call, staring at the blank screen for a long moment. It was not lost on me that my mom didn’t ask a single thing about my life outside of work. She didn’t ask about Ginny and Annie, didn’t ask after Danny. She wasn’t curious if I was dating, or if I had visited any nice restaurants lately. She wasn’t even interested in hearing how much money I had saved at that Nordstrom sale last week.
I sighed, and swung my legs off the bed. She did have a point; I could be using this down-time to get some work done. I grabbed my briefcase and sat down at my desk, reaching up to power on my laptop and suppressing a huge yawn.
Three Girls And A Wedding Page 3
