Confessions of a Wedding Planner (Bliss Series Book 1)

by Michelle Jo Quinn

  “I miss you, my butt!” I screamed in my parked car, shaking the steering wheel out of frustration, after another busy Sunday, and another day that there was no word from him.

  I came home a bit after three a.m. and didn't bother changing out of my clothes. In a few hours, I would be picked up and brought to a spa as part of Sandrine's bachelorette party. At least I had that to look forward to.

  At exactly seven a.m., I was shaken out of bed by the magnanimous Chase. I knew it was seven because she repeatedly yelled it at me. "Nica, I am not missing out on this free luxury. I heard it takes months to get an appointment at Sense. These bitches reserved the entire place for the day, and I don't want to miss a second of it."

  "You're a real brute, Chase. The car won't come around until eight." I rolled back on the bed, pulling the blanket over my semi-naked body. "I'll get up when it's here."

  The mattress dipped beside me. She began combing my hair with her fingers. "Nica, Nica, Nica, I don't think you understand, sweetie. They're known for the most luxurious baths and scrubs. Armageddon cannot stop me from enjoying every blissful moment," she said the words so soothingly that it made me very, very afraid.

  I peeked out from under the blanket. "I know, but I'm so tired. I kept waking up because Levi's face wouldn't stop popping into my head."

  Chase sighed, her shoulders slumping forward. "Do you want me to call them and say we’re not going?"

  "No! Of course not. I just don't know how to move forward." I sat against the headboard. "I wasn't like this with Jake. I thought of him, but I managed to work and sleep and eat. With Levi..."

  "It's not the same kind of relationship. Jake was your boyfriend. You guys had exclusivity. You dated, you slept together, you broke up. With Levi...you just got felt up." Chase patted my hair.

  I leaned my head back and regretted it once it slammed against the wooden section of my headboard. "Do I get over him? Do I pursue him? What do I do?"

  Chase walked to my dresser and pulled out a light sweater dress, bra, and panties, and handed them to me. "You’ll get dressed. Then you’ll get pampered, and after that, you will throw the most spectacular wedding the darling couple paid for. Levi will find his way back to you, if he wants to, and if you let him."

  “He sent me a text message a few nights ago.”

  “Good. What did you say back?”

  “Nothing.” I pouted. “I didn’t know what to say.”

  “Okay…What did he send?”

  “I miss you.” Her brows raised. “Well, in French.” I grabbed my phone from the side table and showed her the text.

  “You know I don’t know French, except for the curse words. But I know what that means.” I waited for her to continue. She held my hands and looked me straight in the eyes. It freaked me out when she went soft like this. “It doesn’t just mean ‘I miss you.' It means ‘you are missing from me.’ That shit is deep.”

  “What does he mean by that?” I yelled.

  “Only he can tell you. Next time, you see him, ask.”

  * * *

  Sandrine approached us as soon as we came through the doors. The smell of eucalyptus and peppermint, coupled with the ambient music immediately relaxed me. "Ah, bon! You are 'ere! I'm very glad." Sandrine greeted us, kissing both my cheeks. She turned to Chase, but she stopped her with a finger shake. Sandrine immediately backed away.

  A woman with wild orange hair, in a white sports bra and yoga pants, approached us. Her hands were in a prayer position. "Namaste. Since everyone is here, we should get started."

  "Oui, merci. Yes, 'owever, my friend is not dressed for it, I'm afraid." Sandrine waved a hand my way.

  I shot her a questioning look. "Dressed? Oh, I can head to the locker room. Are there robes there?"

  "You will need yoga wear for the class," the lady in white answered me in a monotone voice.

  "Yoga?" I looked at Sandrine, and back to the lady. "Nobody told me there would be yoga."

  "That would be my mistake!" Chase produced a pair of yoga capris and bra from her bag, an exact copy of what she was wearing, although the outfit would look different on me (due to smaller tatas and rounder hips). "I packed them for you when you were changing." She didn't even pretend to be sorry. “What?”

  "But, I thought..." What I thought was that I would have rest from exercising for the day. It was only then that I noticed what Sandrine was wearing: Yoga pants and a top that were like a second skin. Sometimes I disliked tall people.

  Chase thrust the clothes at me. "Here, take them. It's only an hour and a half of Bikram. I received the email at work yesterday. If I told you about the yoga class, there's no way you would have come. Look on the bright side, and you've done worse with Diego." But at least Diego was great to stare at.

  I supposed I had no choice. I took my workout clothes and followed the woman, who I assumed was the instructor, to the changing rooms.

  As I was trying to fit into my capris, I heard a knock on the door. My pants were midway up my hips. "Yeah?"

  "I am so sorry, Veronique, may I come in?" Sandrine asked from the other side of the door.

  "Sure, why the heck not?" I suppose the French didn't understand sarcasm, as she burst through the door of the dressing room barely a second later. I yanked the pants up too quickly, the friction causing a mild burn on my thighs. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

  "I 'ave some great news!" She paused, but I only stared at her, waiting for her to continue. "My friend Natalie is here. Isn't that wonderful?"

  Natalie? Natalie...Natalie...I dug through the recesses of my mind trying to figure out who Natalie was, other than being Sandrine's friend. Sandrine didn't wait for me to answer. "She just flew in last night from France, surprising us all. I cannot wait for you to meet 'er. She 'as lost some weight from being quarantined, but she is well and healthy."

  "I'm glad she made it." I pondered the information for a bit. "Wait, does this mean she'll be your bridesmaid and I don't have to do it?"

  Astounded, Sandrine grasped my shoulders. "Non! That is never going to 'appen! You ‘ave been vital in our lives. More useful than Isobel, if I may say so. I’ve convinced Jacob that Natalie can be the new maid of honeur, and 'is sister will be a bridesmaid as well. Everything works out." She raised her right hand, displaying two fingers. "Two groomsmen, two bridesmaids. That will work, non?"

  "Yes, I guess." Good thing I waited to have the programs printed until two days before the wedding. Changes like these always happened. At one particularly memorable affair, the bride replaced all of her bridal party! "Will she have anything to wear?"

  "That is nothing to worry about. Isobel and Natalie 'ave the same physique," Sandrine assured me. "I’ve called Crâyon and ‘e sent another dress for Isobel. Levi and Natalie brought them back last night."

  Oh? Was Levi back home? I wanted to ask. My finger itched to check my phone if he had called or left another message, but I kept my cool. "Perfect then. It's all going smoothly. Shall we go? That yoga teacher looks mean."

  Sandrine stopped me from moving forward, squeezing my left arm. "There is something else."

  "Of course, there is!" I couldn't control my mouth. I was tired, hungry, and the hopes of skipping anything laborious for today had gone out the window.

  Hesitation marked her expression. Her forehead wrinkled, and in the dim lighting of the changing room, Sandrine looked momentarily older, less put-together. "Since you requested that we tell you everything... Natalie and Levi are former lovers."

  Whoop-tee-doo! Just what I wanted to hear.

  My throat clogged up with emotions. This was like having chicken pate as icing on a cupcake.

  "Wonderful." I kept my voice neutral, but I was quaking inside. Why would he send me meaningful French text message but not tell me that he’d be back home with his ex-girlfriend? Unless if my previous theory was right and he sent it to the wrong person. I wasn’t French. Natalie was. Could he have meant to send her the message, instead of me? Perhaps it was his way
of telling he wanted her back and they’d since patched things up. Then they traveled back to San Francisco, together. These unanswered questions were giving me heartburn. Or heartache. I couldn’t tell.

  "Thank you for telling me. Shall we go? I'm itching to do some stretches since I skipped my boot camp class this morning." Only parts of what I said were true.

  Sandrine had hugged me before we left the changing room, and she gleefully traipsed down the long hallway to what I assumed was the yoga studio. Along the way, as I followed her, I wished that Natalie was a hideous beast. Much like I did before meeting Sandrine for the first time. As I walked into the large room lit with various candles, I greeted everyone I knew, including Jake's mother (nothing awkward there) and Isobel. Natalie wasn't present.

  Our instructor introduced herself as Ariana and directed us to choose mats spread out on the floor. Naturally, Chase was up front, and so were Sandrine and Isobel. Jake's mother, Cynthia, took the spot to my left. Before Ariana started chanting, a Brazilian model walked in and claimed the mat on my right.

  She beamed at me. She could be a Brazilian model--tall, had a perfect body encased in a nude halter unitard. She had sun-kissed skin, voluminous chestnut hair, a flawless face and perfect teeth. Right away, I knew that was she Levi's—to quote Sandrine—former lover. Who else could it be?

  The possible model waved her fingers. "Hi, I'm Natalie." I knew it! A fit of giggles burst out of me. Natalie was entertained. "You must be Veronica. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard nothing but great things."

  "Of course, you are." I meant to say something that sounded less sarcastic. Everyone turned my way, and Ariana shushed me. Natalie made a face and stuck her tongue out at Ariana once the other woman turned her back.

  I could probably have handled another Ophelia. But Natalie was stunning, and worse, she seemed pleasant and down to earth.

  Why couldn't the universe work with me for once?

  I was panting and wheezing halfway through the fifth round of sun salutations. I had to excuse myself. Tempted to leave this so-called spa altogether, I made my way back to the changing rooms where I’d locked my purse in a locker. I retrieved it and carried it with me to the front entrance, burst through the doors into the thick fog that lay over the city and inhaled the briny smell of the ocean.

  I dug in my purse for my cell phone and stared at it for a while. What was I about to do? Had I pushed past the precipice and was now willing to call Levi? For what? Or should I give him hell for making my life a misery these past few days?

  My phone buzzed in my hand. A slight disappointment kicked me in the chin when I saw that Deigo sent a message:

  I hope you're having a well-deserved break. I kept looking toward the back of the room, expecting to see you during class, but you weren't there.

  How thoughtful of you! I responded.

  If nothing else, that gave me a surge of power. Why was I pining for someone who couldn't make heads or tails out of our situation? There was this Adonis sending me well wishes and telling me he missed me (yeah, I read the text that way!). Why couldn’t my life be this easy? I sent a quick reply back telling Diego that I was having a fantastic time and tucked my phone back in my purse, ignoring the other messages and emails that came through while I was doing downward dog.

  Taking a deep breath, and slowly letting it go, I walked back into the spa and returned my purse to the locker.

  When I returned to yoga, my body complained, but I pushed through to the end. I paid no heed to whoever was around me and how much better they were doing. I was my own woman.

  Right after the class, we were given herbal teas and led to separate rooms to change out of our yoga clothes and don fluffy white robes. Then we all gathered in a circular room, seated facing each other, while estheticians soaked, filed, and scrubbed our feet.

  Across from me were Chase and Natalie. They seemed to be getting on swimmingly. I pouted as I observed them. It was one thing for Natalie to have had relations with Levi; it was another for her to take my best friend from me.

  After mani-pedis, I was taken back to my treatment room for a scrub, a massage and a bath. After the scrub, my skin felt raw. I didn't think my esthetician appreciated it when I called her Helga. Her massage techniques were angry, and I had more tension in my body afterward than when she first started. I was grateful for the end of the treatment. Helga (her name might have been Susan) got a bath with essential oils ready for me, complete with rose petals, jets, and lights in the tub. Then she left me to soak in tranquility.

  I only sighed when there was a knock at the door.

  "Go away," I muttered, knowing full well that they wouldn't hear me. I should have shouted, but it was too late when Sandrine came in.

  "Sorry if I'm bothering you again. Oh, petals! 'ow lovely." She sat on the edge of the tub.

  Didn't she know I was naked? I'd like to keep my private parts private! I tried unsuccessfully to gather all the petals closer to me.

  Sandrine wasn't fazed. "I wanted to speak to you one more time."

  I gave up. I lolled my head back and let her see whatever the petals wouldn't cover. "With regards to?"

  "Levi." She sensed my hesitation right away. "I 'eard about his little gaffe at the bakery. Why didn’t you tell us before? Chase told us."

  "Little gaffe? It was the Mac Daddy of tactlessness."

  "Mac Daddy?"

  I waved my hand, encouraging her to continue.

  "I apologize for 'is behavior. 'e was never one to get into that much trouble when he was little." She laughed shyly, with a look in her eye that said she remembered an old memory.

  "You knew him when he was younger?" I lifted my head, keeping eye contact with Sandrine.

  "Ai, Oui. 'e is mon cousin."

  I narrowed my eyes, repeating that last word in my head. "Ku-za? What does that mean?" I sat straighter, splashing water over the lip of the tub.

  "'e is famille. 'is mother is my Papa's sister."

  "Oh, he's your cousin? So that's why he stayed with you afterward...at your parents'... after the fight?" That answered one niggling question.

  Sandrine nodded. "There are things that you should know, but I'm afraid it isn't yet the time to tell you. I do 'ope you give 'im another chance." She laid a hand on top of mine, the one gripping the edge of the tub.

  "Another chance? What do you mean?"

  "As it sounds. You two were lovers? N'est pas? Correct?"

  I sputtered a choking sound and returned to looking her straight in the eyes. "No. Nothing happened! What about Natalie? They came back here…together. Wouldn't she want to be with him? Maybe there's a chance for them." When in doubt, divert attention elsewhere, even if it caused an insurmountable pain in my chest.

  Sandrine shrugged. "I am not too sure. They were together for a long time. They seemed 'appy. We thought they would marry, but Natalie decided to leave France. Levi 'asn't been the same since." She gripped my hand harder, forcing me to stare into her hope-filled eyes. "That was until you came along." Her voice turned soothing. “He is flawed, in many ways. There’s something missing in ‘is life. I think you might be the one to fill it.”

  * * *

  While we waited for the rest of the women to come out of their treatment rooms, I contemplated on what everyone had told me. Diego, Chase, and Sandrine had pretty much said the same things. It would be nice to hear them from the horse’s mouth itself. Everything was pointed to a direction, to us being together. All I had to do was figure out if it was the right way.

  Isobel plopped herself beside me on a lounger not a moment later. Her skin glowed, but she glowered. Bad news was written all over her. Before I could escape, Isobel asked me, "Nica, is there something going on with you and Levi?" Was this the theme of the day—poke at Nica’s love life?

  I swung my feet over the other side and stood quickly. How fast could I get away from her and her meddling? "Why would you ask that?"

  Isobel leered at me. "I hope you know what you'r
e doing. I wouldn't trust him if I were you." She studied her nails, ignoring my discomfort. I opened my mouth, but only a frustrated sigh came out. "He's the reason you're not with Jake anymore."

  "What do you mean?" I tried to play that I wasn’t too intrigued, but I failed.

  A touch of mischief played at the corner of her lips. "He introduced Jake to Sandrine."

  My body numbed.

  When Jake returned from his trip to Paris, he’d only told me that he had met someone and had fallen in love with her immediately. Levi had never mentioned that he had anything to do with it. I held onto the back of the lounger when my surroundings started spinning. My chest heaved, as I gasped for air, trying to push the heaviness away. I had to get out.

  I stumbled toward the front of the spa and pushed open the door. I welcomed the salty breeze. My mind was full. My heart was heavy. Tears set to drop.

  I thought of the days I spent with Levi. Of the tenderness that he’d shown me. Of the promise of something beautiful that I held onto. And of the betrayal that I now felt.

  Levi had been around Jake and me a lot during the months we dated. I’d been aware of his presence, but I ignored him. He knew what I felt for Jake, and what Jake had felt for me. And he had no qualms breaking us up by bringing Sandrine into the picture.

  What of the unexpected feelings I'd had for him these past weeks? Had I been blinded all this time? After spending a few days with him in Paris, I had seen him in a more convivial light. I was enamored by Levi's beautiful side. Was it all a ruse? All this time, had he been using me? But for what purpose?

  What sick game was he playing?

  Seventeen

  The Single Girl

  Deep breath in...then out...And a couple more times...

  Maybe one more for good luck.

  Hand hovering over on the handle, I prepared for what waited on the other side. I could simply turn back and hide in my office. There was still time.

  There was a crash, followed by a shriek beyond the door. Dang. I wondered what broke this time. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I slid a foot into my apartment, but I was not looking forward to the ensuing chaos. The mistake was—and always would be—that I gave my mother a copy of my apartment key. Whenever she’d feel like coming to the city, she’d make herself feel at home without my knowledge. However, today the request had come from my half-sister, Maggie. Apparently, our mother had another heartbreak to deal with. Mom was constantly in on-again-off-again relationships with various men. I didn’t know which one was the culprit this time.