Confessions of a Wedding Planner (Bliss Series Book 1)

by Michelle Jo Quinn

  I had no rebuttal.

  With our back and forth, Levi ended up an inch away from me, and my head was tilted up, his head hung down. His breath tickled my lips. Not one part of our bodies touched, but I felt the sizzle of current running through us. It wasn't the warm, thrilling electricity that I’d felt before. His fire had reached the same level as mine.

  He glanced down at my lips, and I trembled at the surprising thought of him kissing me. Wanting him so badly that I was ready to admit defeat. My mind didn't know which way to go. Out of nowhere, I recalled his little dalliance with a flight attendant and blurted it out, "You screwed Sophie on the plane."

  My words powered through. It took him a moment to understand what I said. He stepped back from the bite.

  "Sophie?" he began, "you think I did what?" He searched my eyes, possibly waiting for me to explain, but I stood my ground. "Next time you're going to accuse me of something, get your facts straight."

  "I saw it with my own eyes," I hissed at him, indignant.

  "You saw nothing," he gritted out. "What you saw were two people in an embrace. I couldn't have done what you think I did. One, I'm not even Sophie's type."

  I scoffed. "Like that's ever stopped you before."

  Levi narrowed his eyes at me. "Sophie’s been a good friend of mine for a number of years. She and her longtime partner, Charlotte, have been going through artificial insemination for a couple of years. They just found out that she's pregnant. Sophie just happened to be sharing the news with me, and that's what you saw."

  I blinked furiously, forcing my mind to replay that exact moment when I'd caught Levi and Sophie in flagrante delicto. Had I been wrong? What had I seen? Levi and Sophie in that bathroom, wrapped in an embrace. Had I thought they were kissing? They were completely dressed. Her head laid on his chest, his arms were around her, her eyes were closed, and...a tear had rolled down her cheek. That was the moment I’d opened the door.

  I bit back a gasp at the memory of that embrace. It had been simply that—two people in each other’s arms.

  I’d surmised Levi as a slithering player, and all this time I'd held my head high, sure of my assumption that he took every chance he could get to bed any woman who threw herself at him. And he possibly had, but I couldn't have known what the deal really was. Tonight, I had managed to convince myself that he had betrayed me and that he had used me for his own entertainment. I could fault no one but myself. I bit my lip at the probability that I was the one who threw myself at him. I was one of those women who had used him for their own benefit. He’d been nothing but a sweet, gentle, and caring man. Was he right about me?

  "I see in your eyes that you've come to your own conclusion. It wasn't my intention to hurt you in any way, in fact, I wanted the opposite, I wanted you to give me a chance. I wanted you to love me just like you did Jake," Levi declared, his voice softening. "Clearly, you're still very much in love with him, but Veronica, you’re not the one he wants."

  He didn't move. We stood on edge, both of our bodies humming, trembling at everything that had been said. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to kiss me, even if it was for the last time. I sucked in a ragged breath as he closed his eyes and turned away.

  Levi rubbed his chin, scraping his hand with the stubble on it. "I was wrong about you."

  As soon as he left, I went straight to my guest bedroom's tiny closet where a box was hidden. I knelt and pulled it out, lifted the lid, and let the scent of its contents hit me.

  I bawled, my head dropping on Levi's overnight bag, the one he had left in my Paris hotel room. It smelled of him. Strong, yet gentle. I pulled out a white button up shirt and inhaled. Undressing, then slipping into his shirt, I crawled onto the bed. I made a massive miscalculation. I wanted him. I loved him. He’d wanted me. He’d wanted me to love him.

  Our time together was short. Too short. I needed to make things right.

  I clenched the fabric of his shirt in my hands and thought of way s to get him to give me another chance.

  One way or another, I had to return what was rightfully his.

  E ighteen

  The Rehearsal Dinner

  The Benjamins opened their beautiful mansion in Pacific Heights for Jake and Sandrine's rehearsal dinner. I'd had one chance to stay in this vast property when Jake and I dated. I loved it then, and it still awed me now.

  After parking my car, I took some items from the trunk that I would need for the night.

  "Hello, Nica!" Jake's mother greeted me from the portico. "Do you need any help?"

  I waved at her while stacking my things. "I'm fine, Mrs. Benjamin."

  She didn't listen. She grabbed my purse and the dress I brought to wear tonight. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Cynthia? Is this what you're wearing tonight? How beautiful!"

  "Thank you." It had been an impromptu purchase just two days ago. It was the most expensive dress that I now owned. When I had shown it to Chase, she had agreed that the overpriced dress would be the perfect thing to wear (and wow) on the night that I would come face-to-face with Levi again.

  Cynthia directed me to the library where I could store items. After that, I went into the large kitchen where people of all shapes and sizes were running around like maniacs trying to get everything prepared.

  I tapped Jewel's shoulder to get her attention away from the tablet she was holding.

  "Thank God, you're here!" She handed me the tablet and, in one breath, said, "Flowers just arrived. Mateo and Gerard are setting up the bars, two in the terrace and four in the yard. The lights should have been strung up last night, but they weren't, so that's happening now. I just found out that at least six people are allergic to seafood. And the string quartet just called to say their cellist has the stomach flu."

  "Jewel, breathe. You've done a great job. I'll take over. Chase is waiting for you at the office."

  Jewel had been working for us since the startup. Chase and I agreed that as soon as we expanded, she would be offered a partnership. But that was a long way off yet, and Jewel still had a lot to learn.

  She nodded. "Yes. You're right. Jake asked that you see them as soon as you came in. He and Sandrine are in the parlor."

  "Thanks. I'll check in with the chef; then I'll go and see them. Now, go! Bye!" I pushed her toward the door.

  The chef assured me that Jewel had told him (at least six times) about the seafood allergy. We both agreed that once those particular guests were informed of certain ingredients, they could stay clear of any food offerings containing seafood.

  He let me try some of the hors d'oeuvres, and they were delightful. After checking in with the staff in the terrace and the yard, and knowing that everyone was on schedule, I made my way to the parlor.

  "Nica, you're here!" Jake gave me a tight hug as soon as I entered. "Everything looks great."

  "It will be, once it's all done. How are you guys holding up? Remember that this is only the rehearsal. A practice for tomorrow." I moved over to Sandrine, who was waiting to greet me as well.

  "We know that we are in good ’ ands ." She turned her eyes away from me and glanced at Jake. The two shared "the look", the one that only a couple who truly understood each other had mastered. "We were wondering if we could talk to you about something."

  "Does it have to do with your rehearsal dinner?" They both shook their heads. "With your wedding? With the two of you?"

  "No, not exactly," Jake answered. "But Nica, we..."

  I stopped him with a raised hand and a warning look. "Jake, you know me. I have to focus on this." I tapped on my tablet, referring to work. "Tonight. Tomorrow night. And only the two of you. Anything else beyond that can wait. I will ask you again: does this thing you need to talk to me about pertaining to anything that I have mentioned?" More head-shaking. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make some calls."

  I took my phone out of my jeans pocket as I walked out of the parlor. I had a feeling I knew what they would want to talk to me about, but I didn't
have the guts to deal with it at the moment.

  Finding the number from my contact list, I connected with the best cellist in the city. This I could handle.

  * * *

  I tried to stay hidden for most of the afternoon, and when the first guests started arriving, I was either in the kitchen, in the library, or in one of the four bathrooms on the mansion's first floor. Hidden and still professional. I had a Bluetooth device in my ear to make sure I could keep in touch with the staff, and go to them whenever and wherever they needed me.

  I chastised myself in the black and white bathroom by the foyer where I ran the moment Levi arrived. I saw him park his car through the library windows, and step out of the convertible in his signature button-down shirt, dark jeans, and sunglasses.

  He looked different. Was that an extra spring in his steps? He seemed happy, calm, and relaxed.

  The next time I spotted him was when he greeted and shook hands with one of my sub-contracted staff, Mateo in the backyard by one of the free-standing bars. I didn’t even know they’d met before. Their interaction was like watching two old friends chat.

  Once I was dressed in my pricey garb and painfully high-heeled shoes, I fixed my hair up into a messy French braid that I once saw on Pinterest, and added pearl studs in my ears. I'd have to let the dress shine. A little mascara, blush and a touch of gloss on my lips and ta-da! I was all set. I’m going to get my man back.

  After ensuring that the kitchen and staff were prepped and ready, I searched for Jake and Sandrine. I found them in the library with Jake’s parents and told them everything was set.

  Jake and Cynthia introduced me to several relatives. Isobel, who had drunk a couple of flutes of champagne, air-kissed me and told me that she loved my dress. Two little girls, the flower girls, and Jake's cousins' daughters, came up to me and also complimented my attire.

  "We can rehearse in here, if you'd like, before heading out to greet the masses," I offered Jake and Sandrine. "I'd have to get the rest of the bridal party in..."

  "Rehearse? I don't think we need that, do we?" Jake turned to Sandrine. "I thought it was just one of those terms."

  Cynthia explained, "Traditionally, yes, we have to figure out what we're supposed to do tomorrow. But Nica, do we really have to?"

  All eyes were on me. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Why would they listen to me? I was just the wedding planner. I was just the person responsible for the comfort of every guest attending their wedding, as well as making sure the bride and groom were satisfied. What did I know?

  "Well, as long as everyone's clear about what they need to do. We’re not following any tradition for the ceremony. As long as Jake and Sandrine have their vows prepared?" The couple nodded. "Chase and I will be around to guide you. I suppose..."

  "Good! Let's party!" Jake wrapped an arm around me and kissed the top of my head before leading the group out of the library.

  Clients. They could be difficult sometimes. Was it too late to back out of this deal?

  While walking toward the terrace and the yard, where most of the guests were already eating and drinking, I chatted with the flower girls, and they assured me that this wasn't their first rodeo. Being the only two little girls in the family, they were asked to do that "job" so often that they'd become "professional flower girls." Good, I had nothing to worry about. Right?

  Then why did my heart start to hammer against my chest?

  Levi.

  Even without trying to look, my sights zeroed in on him as soon as I stepped out. He was standing beside Natalie, a few guys in suits I didn't know, and Trent and Landon.

  Natalie had all their attention. She was beautiful and elegant. And tall. She and Levi fit nicely together. There was familiarity whenever they touched—a hand on his upper arm, on his shoulder, on the small of her back, leaning toward each other, the laughter shared. One would think it was their rehearsal dinner.

  Jealousy punched through my gut. I looked away when Jake and Sandrine joined their group and went to see Gerard, my bar staff and Mateo’s husband, at his station.

  "Hey, G, how's the night?" I flattened my hands on the bar.

  "Nica, look at you, hot stuff! Mateo told me about the dress. Va-va-voom, honey!" He was pouring a drink for a guest, who I greeted with a silent 'hello' and a nod. When he passed her the drink, she walked away, leaving me with Gerard (and to gripe). "What d'ya wanna drink?"

  I shook my head. "No drinks tonight. I have to keep my head straight."

  Gerard pursed his lips. "You sure about that?"

  "Yup. I am running this show, you know. Who cares if no one listens to what I say? It’s just my butt on the line if things go south."

  He leaned forward, placing his forearms on the bar. "That’s not what I meant. I want to know if it has anything to do with a certain tall, yummy Frenchman?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Not you too.” Mateo and Gerard were another couple who made relationships look effortless, and in turn, they wanted the rest of their friends, including me, in wedded bliss.

  "I met him earlier. Do es n't look like anything to write home about." Gerard winked, squared his shoulders, and placed a tumbler in front of me.

  "Well, since you've snagged Mateo, the rest of us have slim pickings. And, no, he's not the reason why I need to stay sober." He poured an amber liquid in the crystal glass.

  Then he passed it to me. "You better change your mind and drink up now..." I raised my chin, shooting an eyebrow up my forehead. He leaned forward and whispered, "because in five seconds, he'll be standing beside you."

  Goshdarnit! I reached for the drink and gulped it in one go, puckering my lips as the liquid warmed my tongue and sucking in a hiss when it burned all the way down my throat.

  "Veronica." There was no mistaking that voice. I pushed the glass back to Gerard and signaled for another. So much for staying sober.

  I slowly turned to the source of that deep, warm, velvety voice. My knees buckled as I realized how close he was, so I gripped the bar for support and stretched my lips into a smile. I wasn't too sure how my voice would sound, so I kept my mouth shut. For now.

  "You look—" his eyes traveled over me with a look of unmistakable admiration, making my stomach clench "—amazing. Beautiful."

  I curled a lock of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. "Thanks." I glanced at my feet then let my eyes move slowly from his shiny black shoes to his dapper black suit, and then up to his magnificent face. When did he change? "And you...cut your hair—and shaved.” There were no signs of those prescription glasses that made him even more appealing.

  Levi raked his thick hair with his fingers. "That, I did."

  Gerard nudged my drink toward me, and asked Levi what he wanted.

  "Scotch, neat." He trained his blue eyes on me. "Make that a double."

  Interestingly enough, I noted that Gerard had given me the same drink. Gerard poured him what Levi had asked for, and slid it across the bar.

  Levi lifted his drink, and we clinked glasses. The liquid warmed my throat and my stomach, but it didn't squash my anxiety.

  I thought I was ready for this. I thought I had prepared enough for the time we met again.

  As I let the alcohol warm the rest of my body, I calculated ways to escape this uncomfortable situation. I touched the device that was still stuck in my ear and was about to open my mouth to excuse myself, pretending that I was getting a call when a hand clapped over Levi's shoulder.

  "Laurent! I thought I'd find you by the bar." The man grinned at me. "What do we have here?"

  I couldn't ignore the lascivious look the other man gave me. I furrowed my eyebrows, but I was still working, and he was a guest, so I plastered my pro-smile on.

  The muscles on Levi's jaw tightened. "Monroe, I didn't think you were coming." He crossed his arms over his chest. His entire body was angled in a protective stance, almost blocking me from the guest.

  Monroe either ignored Levi's spite, or he wanted to piss him off. He grinned. "And miss Jake's weddi
ng? Nah, man." He pushed past Levi with a hand stretched out to me. "I don't think we've met. I'm Tristan Monroe."

  I shook Tristan's clammy hand. "Great to meet you. I'm Veronica, one of the bridesmaids." This information made him grin some more. As I tried to pull my hand away, he ogled my cleavage. "If you'll excuse me, I have to talk to the couple."

  Tristan loosened his grip. "Catch you later, Veronica." He winked.

  I sent him a polite smile, then turned to Levi, "I'll see you later, Levi."

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. "I'll find you." It sounded like a promise. "I'd like to have a quick chat with you." Sure, a quick chat, like we were chums.

  I nodded once and started walking. Before I could get away, I overheard Tristan saying, "I heard you're moving back to France for good."

  I managed not to trip over my own feet, but my legs had turned to jelly. Too afraid to hear Levi's response, I kept going, fighting the tears from falling down.

  Finding my way to the kitchen, I checked in with the staff to see if I was needed. They were too busy to notice that my eyes were red. The chef pushed me away in an instant and ordered me to have fun. Yeah, like that was possible.

  My head throbbed. My heart was about to burst. I wanted to be needed, and useful. I didn't want to be just another guest. But between the chef and Jewel, who had returned as per Chase's order, the event was running like a well-oiled machine. I should have been proud of this moment. This was one of my creations. But I was drowning in a different emotion.

  I made another stop at a powder room, just so I could stare at myself in the mirror. My cheeks were flushed—most likely from the crying and the alcohol. I'd like to have another if only to dilute the many different things I couldn’t stop thinking of. Levi, being at the forefront.

  I spread my arms and fanned my underarms—I didn't stink, but I felt I was sweating profusely—when the knob on the door jiggled. Time to move. When I opened the door, Natalie gripped my wrists and pushed me back into the bathroom.