Love Like the Movies

by Victoria Van Tiem

  Mmm, guess I could’ve avoided that. Delete.

  “Kensington.”

  My heart jumps at the sound of Shane’s voice. I’m frozen staring at the phone, eyes wide.

  “I didn’t mean . . . look, can you ring me back? Please?”

  I hit 9 for save. I don’t know why.

  “Hi, hon.” Bradley’s voice sounds grainy, as though he’s coming down with something. “I wanted to make sure you got in okay from the symphony. Call or text me when you do. I’m surprised you’re not home yet. I’ll wait up.” He sounds concerned.

  A lump lodges in my throat as I delete it and wait for the next one. There’s a gap before anyone speaks. I know it’s Shane.

  “. . . I would’ve come by. Kensington, please ring me.”

  I hit SAVE.

  “Hi, hon.” Bradley again. “Ellie said you left not feeling well last night. Hope it’s nothing serious. I’ll be back tomorrow night and call you then. Love you.”

  He loves me. And now Ellie’s lying to cover my lies.

  Oh my God, I hate myself.

  I delete Bradley’s second message. I owe Ellie big time for playing operator. What do I tell Bradley? If I don’t tell him what happened, I’m no different from Shane or Tonya. But if I do tell him, the account is as good as gone. Bradley will kill him. I’ll lose my job for sure. He might even call off the engagement.

  Rubbing the back of my head, I try and knead out the tension and wait for the next message.

  “Hi, Kensington. It’s me, your mom.”

  Yes, Mom, I know who you are. At least she didn’t call Ellie.

  “What did you think of the invites? They’re wonderful, aren’t they? We’ve already received RSVPs. Everyone’s very excited.”

  Invites. I haven’t checked my mailbox in a few days. If the wedding’s off, what will I say to my family? My chest hurts just thinking about sitting there alone, knowing it was supposed to be my day, too.

  “I want you there early to help with things. Oh, and Ren mentioned she set you up with that very exclusive wedding planner friend of hers. Be sure to thank her. She’s really pulled in a favor for you. Okay, I have to go. I’m meeting the girls for lunch.”

  Delete. Delete and delete. Yep, she’s gone.

  Wish I was. I pull the hood from my sweatshirt back up and the cords snug.

  He kissed me.

  Okay, so he kissed me. I kissed him back and then I didn’t. But I didn’t want to stop. I tighten the cords even more. My Pinocchio nose is the only thing visible. I’m going to be rational and logical, and honest. I can be honest. It’s only me in here.

  I hear Shane’s words, “He won’t make you happy, Kensington.” What does Shane know? Bradley hasn’t lied to me. Bradley didn’t up and leave me. No, he’s here. Right now, and wants to start a family.

  My eyes close as I picture my life with Bradley. We’d have a really nice house, I’m sure of it. We would start trying for kids right away. He’d hire a nanny, but I’d maybe want to stay home instead. He’d be okay with that. I’d have everything my family expects for me.

  What about what I expect for me? What about being in love like in a movie? Is Bradley my knight in shining armor that I’m going to rescue right back?

  Be honest.

  Bradley loves me. Is stable and safe . . . but where’s the spark? I’m sure I’d pass Ellie’s Tummy Flip Test.

  No flip. The movie’s a flop.

  But what about Shane? There’s spark, but is there substance? Has he really changed that much from college or I am just his interest of the moment? Still no follow-through.

  I cinch the hoodie’s cords even tighter. How am I going to face everyone tomorrow? Let alone Ren? We’re meeting at the wedding planner’s first thing.

  Should there even be a wedding?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Dangerous Dancing

  “WHEN POSSIBLE, MAKE A U-turn. When possible, make a U-turn.” The robo-lady from my GPS actually sounds annoyed. I keep missing my turn. It’s not intentional.

  “When possible—”

  “Oh, for goodness sake, I’m turning!” I scream at it. The stupid wedding planner place needs a better sign. It’s Monday, and now I’m grateful Bradley set up this appointment. This gives me a legitimate reason to take a personal day from work. I need one.

  My stomach’s queasy. How am I going to keep it together in front of Ren? Oh, I see it.

  “In one hundred—”

  “Shut up, already.” I push the END ROUTE button. My plan to get through this is simple. Keep my promise to go and keep my mouth shut. Ren’s not staying for long anyway, so I just need to keep up my façade for a little while.

  A wave of regret rolls through me. This is another big moment that should be fun and exciting. And again, that’s gone. This time it’s entirely my own fault.

  Whatever, this should be wrapped up in less than an hour—tops.

  Walking through the door of the Wedding House feels like I’ve entered some sort of alternate universe. “I Honestly Love You” is playing over the speaker system and everything is in pink and white floral. It’s like a shabby-chic monster broke in and threw up.

  I’ve landed in Oz and somehow pissed off the great and powerful wizard.

  I stifle a laugh. Ruby red slippers. Just like Cinderella: it always comes back to the shoes.

  “You must be the future Mrs. Bradley Connors!” a crazy woman in ruffles says as I approach the counter. “Is the groom on his way?” she asks in singsong and wrinkles her nose.

  My heart sinks. I’m not sure there will be a groom after I talk with him. “Er . . . no. My sister-in-law should be here any minute.”

  Her smile drops as if I said something distasteful. “Oh, well, no groom. Okay, just have a seat. I’ll let Bethany know you’re a single with family member assist. The other couple’s here.”

  Other couple? It’s a shared appointment? Of course it is. I give a wrinkle-nose-smile back and watch her leave the room.

  Half an hour—tops.

  The door chimes as it opens to announce Ren’s presence.

  Right off, I notice she’s pale and her eyes are puffy. “Hi. You okay?”

  “Of course I’m not okay.” She plops down and blows out a breath. “I’m pregnant. If I’m not sick, I’m hungry, and Grayson doesn’t understand.” She sets her bag across her lap and leans back. “Whoever said this was fun was clearly never pregnant. It’s horrible.”

  My gut twists. She’s complaining about being pregnant and my whole wedding may be called off, which means I’m even further from being in her shoes. At least she gets a baby at the end of all of it. What do I get?

  Maybe what I deserve.

  My phone rings. I’m still screening, but it’s Ellie, so I answer. “Hi.”

  “Kenz,” she says, sounding frazzled. “I tried to—”

  The music’s suddenly louder and the double doors from behind the receptionist’s desk swing open with a whoosh. A tiny blond bombshell bounces out.

  “I’m Bethany Chesawit, wedding planner.” Her voice is helium-induced and her smile’s so white, it’s blinding. She has on a powder-blue sweater that reveals way too much cleavage, a flappy little skirt, and four-inch heels. “Oh, Ren, they didn’t say you had arrived.” She reaches for her in an air kiss-kiss hug-hug thing.

  Then she turns to me and holds her hand out, expectantly.

  “Kenzi?” Ellie’s voice jolts me back.

  “Um, Ellie? Ellie. I’ll call you back in a minute.” I click off the phone and reach out to shake Bethany’s hand, but she has it turned funny. It’s angled down as if she’s royalty, and I’m expected to kiss it. I grab at her fingertips and give a little wiggle.

  I’m in the wedding zone and I just met the wedding fairy.

  Fifteen minutes—tops.

  We follow her through the doors into the Land of Always-Always. I’m not making that up. It really says “The Land of Always-Always” over the door. It’s stenciled with hearts and flo
wers around the letters. I hate Ren for setting this up. Really-really.

  “Well, we have a full day planned. We need to choose music, flowers, and your colors,” she’s squeaking on and on, leading us through a hallway decorated with pink-and-silver-striped wallpaper. “This room will serve as our headquarters.”

  She pulls a chair out for me at the table then retrieves a book from the shelf along the wall. “Before we can even begin, we need a theme.” She flashes a too-bright smile and wrinkles her nose like the receptionist did. “Our other couple has already started, so I’ll check on them and be right back.”

  Ren quickly has the book open and is flipping through the pages of weddings they’ve designed. “So what are your colors?”

  “Um, we haven’t decided anything yet.”

  Her eyebrows arch. “How do you not know your colors? That’s the very first thing you need to choose.” Ren’s color is putrid. She’s not looking good. “Kenz, you don’t seem very enthusiastic about any of this. I was over the moon planning my wedding.” She flips another page and turns the book to see what I think. “Aren’t you excited?”

  Shaking my head, I shrug, so she turns to the next page. “What if I’m confused?” I can’t believe that came out of my mouth. To Ren.

  “Well, silly, that’s why I’m here. To help guide your choices. But really, you could be a bit more upbeat. Oh, this one,” she says, tapping the page, not getting what I meant at all.

  “Confused about Bradley.” There. I said it. But why did I say it? What am I doing? My throat dries, and I brace myself for her reaction.

  Ren snaps her eyes to mine. “What? You’re confused about—” Her hand covers her mouth and she hunches forward. She’s paled. She’s going to . . . oh. Oh God. In an instant she’s up and running toward the restroom in the front.

  That’s not the reaction I was expecting. My phone buzzes again, but I don’t get the chance to answer it.

  “Is Ren okay?” Bethany Chesawit asks as she saunters back in.

  “She’s pregnant,” I say to explain. “You know what? I really appreciate you fitting me in, I do. But with Bradley not here and Ren not feeling well . . . I think we should just reschedule.”

  Voices are coming from the hallway. “Mrs. Chesawit, I’m sorry to interrupt. But Ms. Shaw’s fiancé made it.”

  My heart jumps. Really? Bradley came back early? Maybe he really wanted to be here for this. Maybe this can be a good moment for us. She steps to the side and standing behind her is . . .

  Shane.

  Before I can say a word, Bethany is doing her “I’m-Bethany-Chesawit-wedding-planner-extraordinaire” intro, and her hand is out for him to kiss or shake or whatever.

  Shane frowns, looking between us. “Nice to meet you, but I’m afraid there’s been—”

  I’m on my feet rushing toward them. “Can we have just a moment? You ladies wouldn’t mind, would you?” I’m saying through a clenched smile while practically shoving them out the door.

  “Oh, um, sure, I’ll check on Ren.” Bethany smiles but looks confused.

  Pulling the door shut, I whip my head around to Shane. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t return my calls, and you didn’t show up at your office, so—”

  “So you barge into a meeting with my wedding planner? How did you even . . .” I shake my head to clear it. “You know what? I don’t care. Wedding woman knows my sister-in-law, Ren. Ren!” I’m whisper-shouting. “And Ren is here. Right now.” I hit him across his shoulder. “What the hell are you thinking?”

  This is just too much. I’m panicking. It’s a full-on freak-out.

  I hit him again.

  “Hey.” Shane steps from my line of fire. “I just needed to talk with you.”

  “So, you said you were Bradley?”

  His eyebrows push down. “No. I was going to wait out front, but I never got a word in, actually. That ruffle woman—”

  “What is Ren going to think? Bradley’s going to know you were here.” I need to handle this. My breath is jagged.

  There’s a knock-knock and the door opens a crack. “Sweetie, Ren had to go. She’s really not feeling well, poor thing. She said she’d call later.” The door swings wider and Bethany’s head pops through. “And rescheduling’s really not an option, I’m super booked. But since your fella’s here, everything’s a go, right?”

  “Can we just have one more minute?” My smile is wide and forced.

  After a beat she closes the door.

  In the grand scheme of things, this is not that bad. Really. It’s not a hurricane, or a massive bout of twisters ripping through a defenseless town, or ravenous wildfires. Not even a flood. No. This is a temporary glitch, a string of snafus that need to be rationalized and handled.

  If they think Bradley’s here then they won’t mention some other guy showing up, right? It would be a nonpoint. I just need to trust Shane to keep his mouth shut now, Ellie to keep hers shut in the future, and I might put a hit out on Rand since he knows about the symphony. That would shut his permanently.

  Really, it’s only what, ten minutes of pretend—tops.

  I look at Shane and point a finger right at his chin, speaking through clenched teeth. “You’re Bradley. Play along or I will kill you. And drop the accent.”

  “Drop the accent?” Shane asks with an amused grin on his face. His eyes are all shiny.

  Another knock and the door opens. “Sorry, we’re on a tight schedule.” Bethany walks in. “Are we ready?”

  Shane puffs his chest out. “Of course we’re ready, aren’t we, hon?” He sounds stiff and awkward.

  Are you kidding me?

  Bethany’s smile quivers as she regards him. I give a nervous laugh and then shoot him a knock-it-off look. He shrugs with a grin.

  Oh. Dear. God.

  Now that I think of it, I would welcome a tornado or earthquake. What is the saying? In a hundred years from now, no one will care how clean your house is, how much money you have, blah, blah, blah. But they don’t know my mom, or Ren. They would care. A hundred years is nothing.

  BETHANY HAS BEEN BACK AND forth several times from the other couple to us. Apparently, we’re taking too long and the super couple is zipping through everything. “Have you two found the color scheme that will say to your guests, this is our signature, this is us, this is who we are?”

  Is there a color scheme for this-is-totally-effed-up?

  I haven’t really looked at the pictures. I’ve been mindlessly turning the pages and whispering veiled threats under my breath. Everything is dangerously close to unraveling, from one little lie to the next.

  “Er . . . let’s do super simple in different hues of pinks and white,” I say with a nervous laugh, shutting the book with a loud slap. I don’t even care at this point. Not really. Just throw something together and get me the hell outta here.

  “Good, all rightio. Then, if you’ll follow me, we need to select the music for your first dance.”

  “Great.” I get up fast and knock my chair back. I catch it before it falls all the way over and laugh nervously again. I’m a wreck. I honestly don’t think I can take much more of this. I think she knows. It will have to be a double hit, Rand Peterson and then the wedding planner. A two-for-one deal. Maybe I’ll get a discount.

  “You two lovebirds head on over.” She motions down the hall. “And I’ll go get our other couple. I’ll only be a sec. It’ll be super.” She wrinkles her nose and waits for us to leave.

  Why is she doing that? Why did I just do it back?

  I make a beeline for the door, through the pink-and-silver-striped hall, not even waiting for Shane. At least, if there’s another couple maybe he won’t need to talk.

  Turning into the music room, I’m temporarily stunned. It’s a mini–dance hall.

  “Kensington, it’ll be okay,” Shane says as he steps behind me.

  I wheel around and face him just as Bethany walks in with another couple beside her.

&nbs
p; “Kenzi? Kenzi Shaw? Oh. My. God!”

  It’s so not okay.

  “Kenzi, it’s me. Liza Evans! Well, soon to be Liza Evans-Matison. This is Ryan.” She’s bouncing up and down excited. To her fiancé she says, “Kenzi and I went to high school together, our moms play tennis at the club. Wait till I tell her who I ran into!”

  “Hi. Wow. How great is this?” I say, trying to match her enthusiasm. This is too many people to put hits out on.

  Bethany clicks a remote and the lights dim. A mirrored ball whirls to life from the ceiling and a power ballad from Celine Dion starts. Everyone looks around in awe as the room is transformed into a discotheque.

  “Okay, my happy wedding couples. Grab your partner, and let’s dance.” Bethany’s voice sounds even more helium-induced as she speaks loudly over the music. “We’ll play sections from all the popular first-dance songs. When one strikes you, just yell stop.”

  Stop!

  “Dance!” She claps her hands twice, which makes me jump.

  “The Power of Love” drawls out from the speakers. Liza gasps and says how this is just the best song ever. She and Ryan quickly embrace and start twirling and laughing. I’m one step away from a complete and utter breakdown. Ellie told him where I was. She’s on my hit list, too.

  “Dance!” Bethany claps again.

  Shane holds out his hand, I grab it and fall into position. He’s laughing under his breath.

  “Stop it!” I say under mine. The music kicks up to the faster beat and we do our best to keep time with it. “This isn’t funny,” I say as we turn, but it almost is. “It’s a disaster, an absolute disaster. And you! Either you’re nodding like a bobble-head or you sound like a deranged John Wayne.” I pull back to look at him. “And her mom knows my mom! Are you kidding me?” We turn.

  Liza and her guy are spinning and chatting. Bethany is swaying along to the music with her eyes half closed. I think she’s half baked.

  “Keep going until something moves you,” Bethany says over the music and then clicks the remote she’s holding. Brian McKnight’s “Crazy Love” begins to play.