Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2)

by Howe, Violet

  She put the spoon and bowl down and wiped her face with the napkin. "Look, Tyler. I'm not saying you and Cabe will end up together, and I'm not saying you won't. What I am saying is don't expect love to be easy. No matter who you're in love with and no matter how much you love 'em, we're dealing with human beings. And we all can be fragile, messed up, broken little creatures. No one is perfect. No relationship is either."

  I swirled my spoon in the melted ice cream and cursed love for being so damned difficult.

  I haven't heard a word from Cabe all week, which I guess is to be expected since I told him to get out of my house and not come back until he could tell me he loved me for sure.

  In related news, I'm a little surprised and a tad bit hurt that I haven't heard from Jack either. I knew it was a weekend fling. Both of us swept away by the location and not wanting to experience it alone. But I would have thought I'd at least get a phone call. Not that I need the added drama. All I need is for Cabe to come back with love declarations and Jack be hanging on the line.

  Saturday, March 22nd

  Today was my last straw. I knew at the end of four back-to-back weddings at Lakeside Gardens that whether it makes Lillian and Laura mad or not, I have to go in Monday and tell them I can't do this job.

  I resorted to calling security during the first wedding because the father of the bride—who was drunk at ten in the morning, I might add—threatened the groom, took a swing at the best man, and shoved his wife into a wall. It was like being in the live studio audience of the Jerry Springer show and then realizing I was supposed to be the stage manager for the crazies.

  The second wedding's couple tried to sneak a dog into the chapel. Like I wouldn't see a fluffy little poodle trotting down the aisle in a pink tutu? Or hear it bark every time the organ played? Really, people?

  Then lightning struck just as we were getting ready to start the third wedding. Blew out the entire sound system and caused a ringing in my ears that may end up being permanent. We thought for a while it had blown the lighting system too, but the lights blinked a couple of times and came back on. The bride and groom were so gracious about it all, even without microphones and music for their ceremony. They laughed it off and posed for pictures with the firemen sent out as a precaution.

  The last wedding, however, is what pushed me over the edge. Due to the horrendous storm earlier, the buses were all late picking up the guests, and it also caused pre-ceremony photos to be delayed. When the limo delivered the mother of the bride, she was completely distraught over timing as well as concerned about the risk to the bride's hair and gown in the nasty weather. She'd already been on edge before the first raindrop fell because the rehearsal dinner location last night had royally messed up the menus and the seating, and the hotel had put her and her husband in a smoking room. I knew all this because she ranted about it all the way down the sidewalk to the chapel as I carried the umbrella over her.

  When she finally paused for me to get a word in, I explained about the lightning and having no sound system or microphones.

  To say she lost her shit would be an understatement. I have never had anyone speak to me in such a manner, nor have I seen any other human being treat a living soul so poorly.

  She screamed at me until her eyes were bloodshot and her lips were purple beneath the spittle that had gathered in the corners. The limo driver tried to come to my rescue, but she wheeled on him like a demon fighting an exorcism, so he quietly retreated back to his car. One of her guests tried to calm her down, but Demon Lady threw him out of the wedding and told him she never wanted to see him again. When her own daughter, the bride, came out of the dressing room to tell her she needed to let it go, I thought her head may explode off the top of her body and shower us all with hot lava-like boiling blood.

  Demon Lady motioned for me to follow her inside the restroom, and I tagged along like a loyal puppy, not knowing what else to do. Once inside, she continued to scream and shout obscenities at me as she entered a stall, hiked her skirt to pee, wiped her privates, and then washed her hands. All without taking a breath, missing a beat, or breaking stream.

  So here's the deal. I know being a senior planner won't prevent me from having drunk guests, or people who break the rules, or lightning strikes, or rude and irate clients who can pee and yell at the same time without closing the stall door.

  But at least as the planner I'm forging a relationship and have some idea what to expect. I'll know from the get-go when I'm dealing with a Demon Lady or an unbalanced bitch. I have some emotional investment in the clients, and they in me. I'd much rather plan the whole event than be resigned to just meeting everyone as they arrive the day of their event while I try to pick up all the loose ends and tie them together.

  Surely, Lillian and Laura will understand that.

  Monday, March 24th

  Well, that went pretty much as I thought it would. I asked Lillian and Laura if I could speak with them in the conference room. I explained that while I certainly enjoyed conducting ceremonies at Lakeside Gardens— which was sort of not true, but I didn't want to start out on a negative note—my career aspirations were to make senior planner and I felt it would be best for me to step down from the management position.

  "Well, I certainly don't think holding this position would eliminate you from senior consideration," Laura said, "but the fact of the matter is we don't have any opening for seniors and don't foresee any in the near future."

  "Not to mention," added Lillian, "our senior planners have degrees. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you drop out of college without yours?"

  The barb stung as I'm sure she knew it would.

  "Um, yes, but I'd be happy to work towards a degree. I already looked into it, actually, and depending on what courses would transfer over from my first two years in college, I could probably have my degree in another two years."

  Laura smiled. "That's a great idea. Maybe by then we will have increased our file load enough to justify another senior. In the meantime, keep learning and expanding your experience at Lakeside."

  Lillian stood to go as if the meeting were over. I knew it was now or never.

  "Actually," I said as I licked my lips and willed myself to speak, "I really don't enjoy just doing ceremonies there. I don't feel I'm well suited for it, and I would like to step down."

  Lillian sat down again, and frustration set in around the corners of her mouth.

  Laura looked at me and blinked a couple of times before she leaned back in her chair, her hands folded in her lap.

  "We had no idea you felt that way. You asked for time to think and came back to us saying you wanted the job. Why the change?"

  "I realize I agreed to the position, but I've reconsidered. I don't want to be confined to one location or doing only ceremonies. I really enjoy the planning aspect and getting to know the couples ahead of time. I also like the variety of being in several different locations and interacting with different venue staff. I want to go back to being an assistant planner."

  The two of them looked at each other for a long, awkward pause and then Laura turned back to me.

  "What you're asking is not so simple. We don't have anyone trained who could step in and take the role. Charlotte is certainly not a candidate—"

  Lillian harrumphed in agreement and shook her head as she looked heavenward.

  Laura continued without acknowledging her. "—and Carmen is fully immersed in her support role. With her new baby at home, she's not interested in any weekend work."

  That was what it came down to in the end. No one else in the office could be put in the job. It was mine. Whether I wanted it or not.

  I left the meeting discouraged and downtrodden. Combined with everything going on in my head with Cabe, the job situation only compounded my misery and made me even more certain I wanted to run away from home. Again.

  When the clock hit five o'clock on the dot, I bolted out the door. No longer able to sit and make niceties with the outside world.

/>   Lillian was getting in her car as I reached mine. As luck would have it, she'd parked right next to me this morning.

  "Bye. Have a good night," I offered so she wouldn't think I was mad or bitter about being turned down.

  "You should have asked for more money," Lillian said as she ducked into her car.

  She disappeared from view just as I turned, so I crouched down and pressed my hands close to her tinted windows so I could see inside. "What did you say?"

  She put the passenger window down and leaned into my view.

  "I said you should have asked for more money."

  I shook my head slightly trying to understand what she was telling me.

  "We obviously need you to do this position. There's no one else. We don't have the time or labor allocated to find someone and train them moving into April and May wedding season. You may not have gotten what you wanted in stepping down or getting streamlined for a senior, but you certainly could have negotiated for more money to stay in this position. You had bargaining power, and you didn't use it. It's a management position. It could feasibly be quite a bit more in salary."

  "Wait. Are you saying you'll pay me more money to do this job?"

  "No. I'm not going to pay you a dime more than I offered you when you accepted. But you should have asked. You should have negotiated. You always have to stand up for yourself, Tyler. What did I tell you before? The day we went to breakfast. Other people will always make their decisions based on what's best for them. You have to make your choices based on what's best for you. Always, always try to negotiate a better deal. Even if you don't get it, it sends the message that you have self-worth. That you value yourself. Have a good night."

  The window went up abruptly, and she drove away.

  I stood there for a moment after she pulled away. I couldn't tell if I'd been insulted or counseled with good advice. Angry tears sprang to my eyes as I got in my car.

  Maybe I should have negotiated better circumstances with Cabe, too. Did I have to kick him out with an ultimatum that said don't come back? Surely we could have worked out a way to still see each other. The man was already freaked out from a million directions. Did I really have to pick that moment to push the issue? I mean, he had every right to be upset with me for Jack. His anger was justified. Would I have pushed him out the door if I hadn't felt so guilty?

  But even as I write those words, I hear Lillian's voice coming back to me and telling me to make the decisions that are best for me. I know if Cabe isn't capable of loving me, fully and completely, then it's best for me not to be with him.

  But damn, it hurts.

  April

  Saturday, April 5th

  I should have been wary when Mel said today's wedding would make me feel right at home. After all, I left my hometown years ago because it didn't feel like home to me.

  They'd booked a private ranch deep within the Green Swamp. Thankfully, the barn for the reception had electricity and running water, but the ceremony was in the middle of a freshly mowed field. You couldn't take a step without bugs swarming up into your nostrils, eyes, and ears, and the possibility of stepping on a snake stayed ever-present in my mind. I saw more than one rat roaming dazed and confused through what used to be its home.

  It didn't surprise me when the wedding party arrived in a four-wheel-drive swamp buggy, but the bride riding in behind her daddy on the back of his dirt bike proved a little much even for my country background. She hiked that white dress up around her hips, which gave the guests a glimpse of her horseshoe garter. Her veil flowed out from under her pink cowboy hat, trailing behind the dirt bike to create great shots for the photographer.

  The groomsmen, who cleaned up surprisingly well in their tuxedoes, had monogrammed spit cups because the bride wanted everything in her color scheme of black and pink. Because nothing says elegant and put together like groomsmen spitting tobacco during the ceremony in matching black cups with their names painted in pink.

  The bridesmaids were equally as elegant in their pink cowboy hats and black satin gowns with hot pink bras underneath. The bride proudly explained when I walked into the stable area they had set up as a dressing room that she chose strapless gowns so the pink bra straps could show. Classy, I tell you.

  The reception set-up was eerily familiar to me. And not just because of the barn. She had the traditional country wedding staples of Jordan almonds, salted peanuts, and pastel mints, and the buffet included cocktail sausages in barbecue sauce and homemade pimento and cheese sandwiches. Fancy ones, mind you, with the crust cut off the bread.

  "Who catered this?" I asked Mel.

  She rolled her eyes in response. "Her aunt, Ethel. She's supposedly done over a hundred weddings. How many you reckon were in a barn?"

  "Did you just say reckon? Wow. Look at you blending in with the surroundings. How'd we end up with this one? I mean, technically, we have clients of all budget levels, but with Aunt Ethel at the helm, why'd they need us?"

  "The bride wanted a coordinator. I think we cost more than the wedding itself, but she's happy."

  Actually, the entire wedding group seemed happy. The groom changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and the bride put on an adorable black sundress with the same pink cowboy boots and pink cowboy hat she wore during the ceremony. They laughed and danced all night, dining on barbecued pork from a huge black iron smoker in the back of a truck and drinking beer from kegs at the bar.

  The best man was single, which I know because every member of the wedding party, as well as the mother of the groom, and mother of the bride, made sure to tell me. They even casually mentioned him being quite smitten with me. And that he'd love a date. Or a dance at the very least. He got neither.

  He was cute, I guess. Courteous. Country. A gentleman by all appearances. Well, other than the spit can, but in areas of the country where I come from and where this family came from, that's accepted gentlemanly behavior. He came over and talked to me a couple times. Sweet. A little shy.

  But I had no interest at all. Mel even suggested maybe I hit the dance floor with him for a slow song, but it really didn't appeal to me.

  I don't know. I guess at some point I'll be ready to move on from Cabe. Hell, I sure seemed ready in Paris, didn't I? But looking back on that, I think it was an escape. Grabbing onto something to keep from feeling. To keep from dealing. I don't know if Jack called tomorrow how I'd feel about him, or if I'd even want to see him again.

  Definitely not ready to consider anyone else, though. Mel says I'm holding out waiting for Cabe to call. For him to come back. And maybe somewhere down inside, I am. But I think if he were going to, he would have. You either love someone or you don't. I may have been blind to it for a very long time, but once I became aware, I could no more deny my feelings for him than deny my own existence. So if he hasn't called back by now, he ain't calling.

  So I'm sure someday I'll start watching the road for a new prince to arrive. But for now, I'm learning to be happy without one. Much less pain and stress that way.

  Tuesday, April 8th

  Melanie nearly tackled me before I could even put my bags down this morning. Chaz told her he turned in his resignation. I'm sure on some level I felt sad about Chaz leaving, but I couldn't focus on anything but the possibility of a senior position opening up.

  I raced into Laura's office as soon as I heard.

  "Is it true? Is Chaz leaving?"

  "It would appear so." Laura answered me without ever looking up from her computer.

  "So can I apply for his position?"

  She looked at me then and removed her glasses, sliding them up on her head.

  Lillian came over from her office and leaned against Laura's office door frame. "I recall mentioning you needed a degree. Have you somehow gotten one since we spoke?"

  "Well, no, not yet, but-"

  "No buts. The senior planner position requires a degree. Besides, your experience is limited to this office. We're looking for someone with varied experiences." She turned to go
back to her office.

  "But, but, yes, it's limited, but I don't see it as a bad thing. In fact, it's a benefit. You've both trained me. You know what I can do. Isn't your training the best experience I can have to do things the way you want them done?"

  Laura sat back in her chair and answered me. "Actually, it's often better to have a mixture of backgrounds in an office to bring in best practices and fresh points of view."

  I looked back and forth between them in disbelief. "So basically you're telling me I won't ever be considered for the senior position. Not even if I go back to school? Because I don't have outside experience?"

  "I wouldn't say never, Lillian, would you?"

  Lillian looked back at Laura as she spoke, then shrugged and raised her eyebrows in indifference. "Never is a strong word. But you're not ready now. Keep working." She turned and walked away. I had been dismissed.

  I stopped on the way home and picked up fast food French fries, a whole tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, and two packs of wine spritzers. Then I took a bubble bath, put on my pajamas and preceded to have a self-pity party with a junk food feast. I wished I could call Cabe and talk it all over with him, but since he was also part of my misery, I was on my own.

  So I ate and drank it all away. Cabe not calling (and thereby not loving me), Lillian not allowing me to advance, my job completely sucking, and my life being a waste in general. When I had eaten all the fries, drank all of the spritzers and put a heavy dent in the ice cream, I washed it all down with a good dose of salty tears and settled myself in front of my laptop. I was just across the border of being drunk, and the mixture I'd put in my stomach did absolutely nothing to get along with the roiling emotions that had taken up residence there.

  But I was determined. I had a mission. A plan. I had research to do to back it up.