Confessions of a Wedding Planner (Bliss Series Book 1)

by Michelle Jo Quinn

  He was tempting in that tux. All I had to do was close my eyes, and I could see him clearly, just as I’d seen him when he tried it on at the tailors in Paris. I kept my eyes closed as the memory of our wonderful time together clouded my mind.

  Chase forced me out of my daydream, calling my name, "Nica, your turn, babe."

  Clutching the bouquet in my hand, I walked down the petal-strewn aisle, smiling sweetly, and staring straight at the officiant. Only at the officiant.

  I stood on my spot on the right-hand side of the altar, facing the guests, and watched Isobel strut down the aisle, followed by Natalie. The two equally beautiful women stood at their places beside me. I took a furtive step forward, so I could get a better view of Sandrine. There was a uniform gasp when she came out with her father. Heads turned, all eyes were on them, on her. Her eyes were directed only at her groom.

  There was a niggling that I always felt when I thought someone was watching me. Taking a chance, I glanced toward the opposite side of the altar and sucked in a sharp breath when I found Levi gazing at me with unbridled interest. I blinked away when the officiant spoke, and refocused on the wedding at hand, ignoring the numbness in my fingers and toes and the rapid tattoo of my tired heart.

  When the officiant asked the crowd if anyone thought the couple should not wed, I stiffened. How peculiar the way life had me turned around.

  Just a little over a month ago, I’d been wishing that it was me standing beside Jake. That this would have been my wedding (although, a lot smaller, more intimate, and less extravagant). That I would have been the one saying 'I do.'

  Thinking of that now, everything felt surreal. My relationship with Jake had felt like a prelude to something more promising, something real and tangible. Through my lashes, I glanced at Levi.

  There was serenity on his face. The corners of his lips twitched up slightly, and a secret smile reached all the way to his eyes. Was he thinking of someone? A happy memory perhaps? Was he thinking of me?

  His eyes darted to me as if I had called his name aloud, and because I didn’t know what to do with myself when he looked at me like that, I lowered my gaze and studied the sparkling crystals on my shoes. I was such a coward.

  "The couple has prepared their own vows," the officiant said, and took a half step back, as Jake and Sandrine faced each other.

  Jake spoke first. "My darling, Sandrine, my light. You came into my life when I was unprepared, and you brought clarity, peace and pure love into my heart. I promise to cherish you and love you until I take my last breath. I cannot promise you a life that is perfect, but I promise you that I will strive hard for it. Sandrine, my love, my beauty, my all, this I vow."

  His words should have hurt. It would have caused me a great deal of pain if I hadn't agreed with him. Somewhere along the way, I’d figured out that he didn't belong to me, that we hadn't been right for each other. And I was happy to witness him marry the woman who did own his heart.

  "Mon amour, Jacob..." Sandrine inhaled, pressing her lips together as her eyes watered. She spoke in French, words that were so beautiful that I wished I understood. But from the look in Jake's eyes, he did. The words were meant for him and no one else. She finished off in a slightly shaky voice, "I vow to love you forever and always."

  I daintily brushed the tears off my face. I didn't doubt--not now and not after experiencing what I had with them; they would fight adversity--together until the end. They would fulfill their promises to each other, loving one another every step of the way.

  Jake and Sandrine accepted rings from each other and sealed their vows with a kiss. The officiant declared them 'husband and wife', and the guests stood and applauded. Shutters from cameras clicked everywhere.

  Even though my mind was full of cluttered thoughts, I was pleased. If it hadn't been for this moment, for Jake and Sandrine, I wouldn't have experienced the indifference that morphed into desire and lust, which blossomed into love.

  The newlyweds walked hand-in-hand as their witnesses hooted and hollered and threw petals and heart-shaped confetti in the air. Levi offered his arm to Natalie. Although I knew who Natalie ached for, I couldn't fight off the green-eyed monster within. And I wondered if Levi had walked down that aisle with me, would we have looked as perfect and as happy?

  As I curved my hand in Trent's arm, with Levi in my thoughts, I replied to my own question : a resounding 'yes' , and walked with my own secret smile.

  Twenty

  The Speech

  I massaged the skin in front of my ears and along my jaw line as I claimed a spot on a bench under a mature weeping willow tree, slipped my shoes off my feet, and rubbed my aching calves. It seemed Louboutin stilettos weren't the best footwear on grass.

  The photographer, Roan, her assistants, and the videographer wanted photos of only the newlyweds in another part of the garden, thus, giving the rest of us time to recover. The two flower girls had been given their passes to return to their parents. Lucky girls!

  Jewel drove in one of the golf carts to bring us much-needed refreshments. By now, the wedding guests would have proceeded to the separate cocktail-hour areas we'd placed around the main tent, or in the rotunda of the main club building, enjoying delicious canapés and choices of three customized drinks for the event.

  "Did you have the tartare?" Jewel asked when she approached me, carrying a tray of champagne flutes.

  "Hmmm, yeah, so good...what were those chips?"

  "Taro chips. Laupin's a genius. Champagne?" she asked, handing me a flute.

  I shook my head. "Nah. Gotta keep my head straight. Did you bring water?" She nodded. "How's Chase doing?"

  Jewel rolled her eyes, and for a second, let her shoulders sag. "Freaking out because she can't drink or make out with anyone." We both chuckled. "She's really taking this seriously. We don't want you worrying about anything, and you shouldn't."

  "I'm not." Disbelief was written all over her face. "I'm not!"

  "You're not what? Oh, champagne!" Natalie grabbed one of the flutes and sat beside me.

  "So thirsty." I gave Jewel a puppy-dog pout. "Water please?"

  "'kay, I'll grab it." As she walked toward the cart, Isobel stopped her to grab one of the crystals from the tray before making her way to us.

  Scooching aside, Natalie cleared space for her on the bench. "What up, bitches?" Isobel chugged the champagne, settling on the spot.

  "Someone's thirsty." Natalie laughed.

  "When is this photo shoot going to end? I think I dislocated my jaw with that last shot." Isobel rubbed her cheeks, opening and closing her jaw.

  I knew why she was antsy. I happened to trip over her and her new boyfriend making out in a corridor inside the club earlier. She wanted to return to her new 'baby love'. His name eluded me. All I remembered was that he was young, good-looking , probably rich, and horny.

  "Won't be long now," I replied, sagging against the bench. Not very lady-like.

  From my vantage point, I watched Levi approach Jewel. She titled her head back, laughing at something he said, and he took the two bottles of Perrier she offered.

  Levi joined Jake's parents and cousins and François by the large pond and handed Sandrine's father one of the bottles. While they continued their conversation, he stole a glance in my direction. Keeping in mind that there were three people sitting on this bench, one of whom was his model - esque ex-girlfriend, I ignored the stammering inside my chest. He nodded a reply to what François said, slipped his phone from his pocket, and made a call.

  "You must be exhausted." Natalie tapped my arm, garnering my attention. "I don't even know what time you left last night."

  "Much earlier than you guys did. I had to be here first thing this morning."

  "Yeah, and I can see how much work you've done. You like your job, huh? It really shows."

  I beamed at her. "I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't like it. That's for sure. Do you like being a doctor?"

  She leaned back and rested her hands on her lap. "I do."


  "You've always wanted to be a doctor then?" I was resigned to trying to understand how Levi's mind worked, and if I could do that by asking his ex a few questions, then so be it. Only, I had to make sure I did it with finesse.

  "My father was a doctor. I wanted to follow in his footsteps, regardless of how much my mother hated it."

  "She did?" If I’d decided to become a doctor, my mother would have announced it to the entire world! But science and I did not meet eye-to-eye.

  She lifted the corners of her lips and nodded. "Absolutely. I grew up with Sandrine. Our mothers are, were best of friends. They're not anymore. Long story." She rolled her eyes and waved away whatever thought she had. "They both believed that all we needed were to keep our looks and figure intact and marry rich, powerful men." Much like Levi.

  "Trophy wives? Well, you are beautiful. Ever thought of modeling?"

  Natalie scoffed. "I did it in my teens. I was terribly bored. I did it to appease my mother. Some of the girls were nice and sweet, but others partied too much, got into drugs, and had way too much sex with wealthy men old enough to be their fathers. I got yelled at too often for eating real food during shoots or before shows. Sandrine did it too, for a year, for the same reason, and quit when I did."

  I pressed my lips together before continuing my interrogation. I eyed Isobel, who was keenly focused on her cell phone. "I guess that's how you met Levi?"

  Natalie's smile stretched wider. "I was wondering when you'd ask." She stared at him across the expanse of grass. "I didn't meet Levi until after med school. My mother introduced us. I knew he was Sandrine's cousin, but I never really saw him before. He spent most of his childhood at his grandmother’s and boarding schools. Then he moved here to the States. He doesn’t like living in France much." Then why was he moving back? I wanted to ask the question, but we were interrupted by the very person who was the topic of our conversation.

  "Excuse me, ladies. Sorry to interrupt." Levi had his phone pressed against his ear. I didn't even notice he had made his way over, which was weird since lately, all I’d been too keenly aware of was him. He sent me an apologetic look and turned to Natalie to ask, "Nati, seven p.m. takeoff on Tuesday fine with you?"

  It was always shocking to hear him talk around me. The times I'd thought of him and of the things he had said to me before, I'd often imagined a different timbre in his voice. My memories did not do it justice. It was smooth and as tempting as melted dark chocolate.

  I tried to ignore his words, but couldn't help feel that kick of jealousy. He had called her Nati, a nickname only those closest to her would have used. Like how he had called me his "Sweet Veronica." There was a punch in my gut. Were they leaving together? Back to France? On Tuesday?

  The restriction in my chest tightened.

  "That's good. Is François flying at the same time?" Natalie asked. Levi gave her a curt nod, then returned his attention to his phone as he walked behind the bench.

  Roan saw the three of us sitting on the bench. I could tell she appreciated the background of the rich greenery and sparkles from the pond. She waved Trent, Landon and Levi over to stand behind us.

  I slipped my shoes back on, sat straight and pressed my lips together. Even smiling was too much work. The other two girls kept their relaxed posture. I felt a presence behind me. By the way, my skin hummed, I knew it was Levi.

  * * *

  The tap on the microphone brought my eyes to the podium. Levi was setting up for his best man's speech. I leaned back in my seat, trying to make myself invisible, too weak to let myself to even catch glimpses of him.

  As he spoke, I could almost picture him. By the glazed expressions of most of the women—and some men—in the crowd, and the timbre of his voice, he had full-on charm. I couldn't help but smile at his anecdote of the first time he met Jake and had gotten into a minor fight with him.

  "Finally, I'd like to share a little bit of poetry..." The women swooned. A handsome guy who read poetry, how could women resist? "I don't want to screw this up, so earlier, I wrote it down."

  The rustle of paper made me take a peek. As I did, Levi unfolded a small note on the podium, then reached into his pocket, brandishing a pair of glasses—not sunglasses—and pushed them high up on the bridge of his nose. Could he look any sexier?

  Levi cleared his throat, and his lips spread into a megawatt grin. "This is from the famous artist and writer, Khalil Gibran:

  Love one another,

  but make not a bond of love:

  Let it rather be a moving sea

  between the shores of your souls."

  Cue women sighing. Levi reached for his champagne and raised it. "To two special people in my life, who have found and completed each other, Jake...Sandrine, salut!"

  I raised my own flute and took a small sip of the champagne. Jealousy stabbed at me—not for Jake finding Sandrine, but the two of them finding and completing each other.

  I found myself asking once again, Where was my happily ever after?

  * * *

  Once the guests were invited to the dance floor, I took the chance to find a little escape. I walked into the bathroom. Several guests stopped me and told me how pretty I looked. I didn't know any of them, but they assumed I was important.

  "Care to dance?" Levi's question came from behind.

  My lips parted when I quietly inhaled, afraid he would know right away that I was quaking in my shoes. My eyes widened at Jewel, who hadn't warned me that he was approaching. I captured my bottom lip between my teeth as I turned. His right palm was upturned as an offer for me to take it.

  "Dance?" I looked beyond him at the dance floor. The band was playing a quick-tempo French song I didn't know.

  I was tired and depressed, but curiosity got the best of me. I could vaguely recall him dancing that one time we had gone to the club—and promptly after, I had ended up in bed with him—nor had I seen him hit the dance floor during any of the events that I had planned, and he had attended.

  "I guess one dance won't hurt." I tried for a smile, but my lips wouldn't cease quivering.

  "Nica, your purse?" Jewel grabbed my clutch from me.

  "Thanks."

  I took Levi's hand, and he led me to the middle of the floor. As soon as Levi stopped and faced me, the song changed. A rendition of Marvin Gaye's Let's Get It On played.

  Levi chuckled under his breath. If I wasn't so nervous, I would have too.

  "Something funny?" I asked instead.

  "I love this song," he stated, his eyes twinkling.

  " Did you request it?"

  He chuckled again. "No. I did ask if they could do a Salt N Pepa cover, but it wasn't their thing. Relax, Veronica. It's just a dance."

  Yeah, right, like I could relax when the dance involved him this close to me.

  He placed one of my hands over his left shoulder, and his left hand warmed the small of my back. The fingertips of his other hand whispered over my left arm, and the resulting tickle caused me to lift it. Then he tucked that hand over his.

  Our bodies were pressed against each other, but not as tightly as he'd probably wanted (judging by the way he was trying to pull me in closer). I steadied my breathing and stared at the boutonnière on his lapel to avoid his dreamy eyes.

  We weren't moving much, but by the way he swayed his hips, I could tell the man had hidden talents. If only I could relax and just let him lead...

  "Ready?" His sudden question had me looking up into his clear blue eyes. Yup, they were dreamy.

  "For what?"

  Levi quirked his lips into a grin. "Turn." He moved his hand from my back to the side of my hip, and with a nudge of his right hand, he made me rotate on my feet. My arms extended as I swung out.

  I gasped and hadn't recovered when, with a quick flick of his right hand, he pulled me back into his arms. My behind ended up pressed against his front. My arms were tangled with his over my stomach. Our fingers were intertwined.

  My legs had turned to jelly from the quick turn, or
from the man —I wasn't quite sure. I instinctively leaned against him, convincing myself I had done it for support.

  Levi changed his position, moving a leg forward between my legs. He tightened his arms around my stomach and splayed a hand over my hip. I could feel him against my backside as he undulated his hips.

  White hot desire scorched within me.

  I was dizzy with lust. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and Levi nuzzled my exposed neck. If he didn't stop, I would be tempted to rip his shirt off, push him down on the floor, and give the wedding guests a show they would never forget.

  Levi's parted lips made their way up my neck and behind my ear. His hot breath scorched my skin and left me breathless.

  I wanted him to stop, but I was doubtful that he would hear me, or that I would be able to form any words at all. All I could hear was the thumping of his heart and the whooshing of blood into my head. I silently pleaded for the self-control I had lost.

  Levi took a deep breath, inhaling my scent. "God, Veronica, the things you do to me." He nipped at the edge of my ear, causing ripples of painful desire all over my body.

  And he was the one to accuse me of the things I did to him?

  I somehow managed to turn around and face Levi. My eyes focused on his lips. The world around me blurred. Levi and I ceased swaying. We just stood there, holding onto each other.

  Kiss him!

  Sighing out loud, I whispered, "I can't." I brought my eyes up to his. My lips held his gaze. He looked worried, unsure, afraid. "I just can't."

  There were things I had to say, things I wanted him to hear and understand. My practiced discipline returned, and the noises and sounds around us came back.

  "Veronica, don't." He kept my hands in his, pressing them against the thumping of his chest. "Stay a little bit longer."

  I could have asked him the same thing.

  This wasn't the time nor the place. This was his best friend and his cousin's—my friends'—wedding. There were too many people around us. Too many questioning and curious looks. Too many witnesses to my impending heartbreak. I pulled my hands from him and stepped back. I sidestepped around the other people dancing, as I once again walked away from Levi.