A Wedding Tail

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A Wedding Tail Page 12

by Casey Griffin


  “Little Miss Perfect here couldn’t handle her jealousy of me,” Chelsea said. “Look what she did to my booth last night.” She waved her arm awkwardly, as though they were on some kind of game show and she was inviting the camera to take a panorama.

  “What?” Zoe started, completely thrown by the turn of the conversation. “What are you—” Then for the first time since her tunnel vision had cleared, she caught sight of Chelsea’s booth or rather, what should have been her booth.

  The ostentatious banner was ripped in half, dragging on the floor, sparkling hearts littered the aisle runner, crushed like they’d been stomped on. Décor samples and photo albums were cut to shreds.

  After taking in the destruction, Zoe finally shook her head. “How could I have done this? I’ve been nowhere near your booth. I’ve been over there.” She pointed to the corner. “Way, way, way over there. Remember?”

  “It happened sometime last night,” Chelsea said. “I just spoke to security and they said you came back to the hotel late after the expo closed. You were caught on camera leaving the parking garage around ten o’clock.”

  “I came back to pick up my van. So what of it?” Zoe planted her hands on her hips. Not exactly the image of sweet innocence, but well, she was innocent, so she didn’t need to pretend. Besides, maybe Chelsea already knew that because she was the one who broke into her van.

  “So you probably snuck in here and destroyed my booth,” Chelsea said.

  “Oh please.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “What proof do you have?”

  “You threatened me yesterday. You said ‘You’ll get yours.’”

  Zoe heard murmurs ripple throughout the crowd. Hey, You snuck closer until the camera was practically in her face. She shoved the lens away.

  “I was there,” a woman manning the next table over piped up. “I heard her say that.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” said another vendor.

  Zoe groaned. “I was talking about karma. I didn’t mean I was going to do anything myself. Why on earth would I want to do this?” She gestured to Chelsea’s booth.

  Chelsea leaned against her table, the perfect resemblance of justified righteousness. “Because you’re jealous of me.”

  “Jealous?” Zoe laughed. “What would I have to be jealous of you for? You’re a terrible wedding planner.”

  Chelsea made a show of heaving a big sigh, as though she was growing weary of having to spell it all out for Zoe. “Not because of my wild success. Because of my recent engagement.”

  Zoe laughed. Like she gave a damn. “Congratulations. You finally found someone to put up with you. You’re a real dream come true.”

  It was like they’d switched roles. Zoe was usually the cool one in any confrontation, but she was feeling anything but at the moment. Whereas Chelsea’s calm demeanor just made Zoe look even guiltier by comparison.

  Zoe decided not to feed into her game anymore and turned to head back to her corner. She wasn’t wasting any more time or room in her emotional bottle on Chelsea’s crap. But the camera stuck with her, Hey, You backpedaling in front of her.

  “Well, obviously I’m more of a dream than you,” Chelsea called to her back. “Because he left you and traded up.”

  Zoe’s steps faltered. “Traded up?”

  “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” Chelsea laughed, each giggle hitting Zoe’s back like tiny little daggers. “I’m about to marry the man who left you at the altar.”

  The world fell out from under Zoe’s heels, and she had to hold onto a nearby table for support. Before she’d even meant to, she reached back into her purse hoping Gentle Giraffe’s comforting power would take effect quickly.

  Her breaths came faster and faster until she felt like she was going to pass out. Slowly, she spun back to face Chelsea, and the rest of the gathered crowd. Holly looked delighted.

  “What did you say?” Zoe asked, although it was too quiet to hear over the beating pulse in her ears.

  Chelsea spoke her next words very slowly, very clearly, just in case Zoe, or the camera, might miss one heart-wrenching word. “I’m the future Mrs. Sean Wilson.”

  Zoe took these words and, with every last ounce of patience she had left in her, stuffed them deep down, then took a breath before speaking.

  “You two deserve each other.” And she meant every word of it—but not in a good way.

  Chelsea grinned like a joyful bride to be, coming in too close for anyone else to hear. “You’re right. We do. Obviously you didn’t deserve him, or you’d be with him right now.” She laughed, her happy expression at odds with the venom behind her words. “I guess things really do happen for a reason. If he actually showed up to your wedding day, he’d be married to you right now. And he wouldn’t be marrying the woman he belongs with. Me.”

  Gentle Giraffe’s head popped off in Zoe’s hand. Beans spilled into the bottom of her purse, the same way she could start to feel her emotions spilling out of that carefully sealed bottle.

  Her fists clenched, her body shook, her breaths came in hard pants like a bull about to charge. Someone screamed, a fierce, painful wail from the gut. Zoe suddenly realized it was her.

  She could see it all happening, see herself losing control as everything she’d pushed deep down inside herself was erupting. It was as though she was outside herself, watching it all unfold. And she felt like there was nothing she could do but sit back and watch it all go down, just like on her wedding day.

  That day had been a culmination of months of wedding stress—the planning, the calls, the meetings, the details—that seemed to explode out of her in one epic moment of grief and anger. All that work was supposed to be for one single, joyous purpose. It was supposed to be a celebration of her and Sean’s love, of their eternal union.

  But it was all for nothing. Instead, the purple-and-chartreuse theme seemed to mock her. So when she couldn’t get revenge on her fiancé, she took it out on all that planning.

  She shredded the freesias, tore paper lanterns from the ceiling, threw cupcakes, and all in front of the entire congregation with their pitying eyes and whispers. Zoe had lost her mind. No. Worse. She’d lost her heart, like a part of her had been removed when she’d heard the words “He’s not coming.”

  And now, standing in front of a gloating Chelsea and all those people, she felt that day come back to her, the sharp stab of rejection. Sure, it was duller now, but she felt Chelsea’s announcement like a boot crushing that old scar, stepping on her chest where her heart had been ripped out.

  As surprised murmurs and hushed exclamations rippled through the crowd, humiliation rang in Zoe’s ears like the whispered rumors of the congregation on her big day.

  “How scandalous.”

  “How awful.”

  “Poor Zoe.”

  She wanted to fight back, to repel the idea that she was that weak, “poor” Zoe. She was strong, and she wasn’t going to take it lying down. Nor was she going to stand for Chelsea’s accusations or poisonous attitude.

  Legs that didn’t feel like hers moved toward her rival, hands balled into fists. She didn’t know what she was going to do. It almost frightened her, as though she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  Suddenly, arms wrapped around her from behind, preventing her from taking another step. She struggled against them, but they wouldn’t budge. They were firm and unyielding so she couldn’t escape, yet so gentle, so reassuring. Like a strong hug holding her together, preventing her from falling apart in that moment.

  “Zoe.” Levi’s deep voice hummed in her ear. “Just let it go.”

  It had been so long since a man had hugged her. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she was in a man’s arms since her father died. The touch unarmed her. And for some reason, it also infuriated her. Not the fact he was touching her, but what it did to her.

  Her eyes suddenly began to sting. She didn’t need a man. And she certainly didn’t need Levi.

  She ripped free and pushed him away. “What are you doing
?”

  “Trying to help you,” he said, holding his hands up to show he was backing off.

  “I don’t need your help,” she said.

  “Obviously you do,” he said calmly. “She’s just egging you on. Walk away. It’s not worth it.”

  “Oh, yes it is.”

  But she felt more aware of herself now and of everyone watching, watching her lose control. Something Zoe didn’t do. She was above all that now. Above caring. Above being hurt, especially by her ex-fiancé, Sean.

  “Oh, what a fabulous story,” Holly purred from the sidelines.

  Zoe shook her head, feeling the humility weigh down her rising emotions. “No story. Ancient history.”

  Holly shrugged. “Well, it will have to do. It’s been a slow weekend at the expo. Too much lovey-dovey crap for me.”

  She snapped her fingers in the air, and Hey, You was at her side in an instant, lugging the equipment through the crowd. He handed her the mic, and she stood next to Zoe as though about to interview her.

  But Zoe wasn’t sticking around. She slipped away and headed for her booth. All she wanted to do was run, to disappear for the rest of the weekend.

  So many curious customers lingered around them, blocking her path of escape. She desperately pushed her way past them all, ignoring their cries when she stepped on a foot or accidentally bumped someone too hard. Breaking through the other side of the thick circle, she nearly stumbled into a bakery booth with a precariously balanced five-tiered pink cake.

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Holly chased after her. Her nails dug into Zoe’s arm as she tugged her back. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re my story. Like it or not, it’s happening.”

  Zoe felt dazed. She just wanted to get out of there.

  Levi wedged himself between the two women, like he was protecting Zoe. And she was actually grateful for it. “I’m still available for that interview, if you’d like. You know, we’ve got a big tour of California coming up.”

  “The people don’t want to hear about your little boy band.”

  “Rock band,” he said.

  She swept him aside. “They want Zoe’s misfortunes.”

  “But I didn’t do anything,” Zoe said. “I couldn’t care less about Chelsea and her sad personal life. And I didn’t vandalize her booth.” She glared down the reporter. “And if you think for one second that I’m going to let you try to ruin my reputation like you did with Addison, then you’ve got another thing coming.” She took a step forward. “I’m not as nice as Addison.”

  But Holly wasn’t deterred. “Well, one way or another, I need a story out of this boring weekend. So what story am I running?” She pretended to think, fluffing up the little tuft of white hair, like bangs, on Jasmine’s head. “Maybe something along the lines of Always a Wedding Planner, Never a Bride. Think of the damage control you’ll have to do. How can you plan other people’s weddings when you can’t even make it through your own?”

  Zoe closed her eyes. Great, she thought. What else can go wrong this weekend? “Please don’t.”

  Holly took a moment to look her up and down before reconsidering. “Well … there’s only one other story I’m more interested in.” She grinned mischievously. “And that’s the Summers-Caldwell wedding.”

  “Of course.” Zoe laughed humorlessly. “I see your angle here.”

  “Little old me? An angle?” She bit her lip and fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

  “I’m not throwing my best friend under the bus,” Zoe told her.

  “No, no, no. Nothing as scandalous as that. People just want to feel connected, like they’re involved in the monumental occasion.” She inched the microphone closer to Zoe’s mouth. “Just a tidbit. A morsel. Nothing more. I promise.” Another eyelash flutter.

  Zoe glanced back at Chelsea. She was no longer alone. A man hovered anxiously next to her, a boss-like arrogance about him, a gold name tag on his lapel.

  Chelsea heaved a sigh and laid a dramatic head on his shoulder. Zoe assumed he must be her cousin, the expo coordinator. Despite her overly visible anguish, when her gaze locked with Zoe’s, she found a triumphant grin just for her. Zoe scowled back.

  The coordinator turned to that beefy security guard who had dragged Juliet away the day before. The guard’s eyes scanned the crowd before landing on Zoe. Whatever the coordinator had said to him made his eyes narrow and his nostrils flare when he spotted her.

  Zoe felt her heart skip a beat. She automatically glanced over her shoulder as though her primal instinct for fight or flight was kicking in and she was searching for the easiest way out. But there was another security guard rounding on her from the other end of the aisle. She was trapped.

  “Tick tock,” Holly said. “Hey, You, are you ready to catch the take down?” she asked her cameraman. “I want the best angle for the five o’clock news.”

  Zoe groaned, feeling the decision pull at her insides, especially after Piper said she’d wanted to keep the wedding as quiet as possible. She cringed. “Just a tidbit?”

  Holly nodded eagerly, mashing the microphone against Zoe’s lips.

  But Zoe pushed it away. “Off the record.”

  “Of course.” She snapped her fingers and when Zoe glanced around, Hey, You had disappeared.

  Zoe chewed the inside of her cheek, but on seeing Beefy charge her way, she said, “Fine. The dress is, was, a Marchesa.”

  “But it’s a goner now, so what else have you got?”

  “The theme is pink and navy blue.” The colors weren’t a big deal, Zoe reasoned with herself. It wasn’t critical or anything. Not like the location.

  “And…” Holly coaxed.

  “And the dogs are their ring bearers.” That factoid wasn’t so terrible, either. They were dog lovers. It only made sense.

  She glanced down the aisle to find the security guards closing in. “Happy?” she asked the reporter.

  Holly’s mouth tweaked, neither a smile or a frown. “For now.” With a wiggle of her fingers in farewell, she backed off to the sidelines for a good view as everyone else seemed to converge on her.

  Chelsea drew closer for a front-row seat as the security guard reached for Zoe’s arm.

  “Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to call the police?” he asked her.

  “Oh, I’ll come,” she said. “But I won’t do it quietly.”

  Chelsea scoffed at her, a self-satisfied look on her pinched face. “Just can’t admit when you’ve been defeated, huh?”

  “No. I just figure, if I’m getting kicked out, it’s going to be for a good reason.”

  Reaching for the bakery table next to her, she jammed her hand into the pink sample cake. Before Chelsea or the security guards could react, she cupped a handful of the dessert and slapped it across Chelsea’s smug face.

  She gasped and sputtered, wiping the icing from her round, shocked eyes. “Screw you, Zoe Plum! I’ll get you for this!”

  “There,” Zoe said, licking the remains off her fingers—mmm, pink champagne cake. “Now I’m ready.”

  10

  Tail Between the Legs

  I know what you did. You’re fired.

  Zoe stared down at the words she’d typed to text Natalie. There’d be more to come eventually, but she needed time to wrap her head around it, to deal with the hurt so that she could act semi-professional when she finally did confront her. She was still in shock.

  At the moment, she wasn’t sure what else to say that could encompass the betrayal she felt, the anger for all the lies and deceit over the last few weeks—maybe even longer. She now understood why Natalie had been extra skittish recently. It was guilt.

  Clutching her phone, she hit send with a flourish. But really, the firing was just a formality. The only one rejected was Zoe.

  The bride and groom in her booth leered at her with their plastic expressions of marital joy. They were mocking her, turning their perfect noses up at her failure.

  Annoyed, she ripped the tiara a
nd veil off the bride’s wig and tossed it in a box, but they remained indifferent to her feelings. Now they were just trying to piss her off.

  The happy couple watched as Zoe began dismantling her booth, one carefully, lovingly, thoughtfully chosen decoration at a time. The last of Zoe’s leftover pamphlets and business cards made a weighty and demoralizing thump as she threw them into the box, along with her groom’s top hat.

  She looked around her booth, disappointed at how the weekend had gone. She’d had such high hopes. This had been her chance to really break out, to use some of the momentum from planning Piper and Aiden’s high-profile wedding and let it take her business to a whole new level. One where she could be choosier about which events she took on, maybe charge a bit more so she could work smarter, not harder.

  The expo had been her chance to ensure a down payment and steady income for the next year of mortgage payments. Maybe her mother might have even laid off the whole husband business and canceled her date with Taichi Kimura. And Zoe had blown it.

  Security had allowed her to return only once the expo closed for the day. She supposed it was a blessing that mostly everyone had gone home by the time she returned. It meant fewer people to witness her walk of shame—although she didn’t feel like she did anything to feel ashamed about.

  Okay, so she did smash pink champagne cake in Chelsea’s face. But, well, that was just satisfying, and totally worth having to pay for the cake—even if it was three-hundred dollars.

  Zoe gripped the bride’s head and ripped it clean off the body. It pulled out of the socket with a satisfying pop. She tossed it over her shoulder and it landed in a box.

  “Whoa. Is that any way to treat a lady?”

  Zoe jumped to find Levi watching her from the other side of the table, his mouth full of cake. He placed a second piece on the table and slid the plate toward her. The pink icing glared up at her judgmentally.

  “Can you believe they were just going to throw this away?” He shoveled another bite into his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

  She gaped at it. “You’re eating the cake I threw at Chelsea?”

 

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