The week starts to quickly pass by again. This always seems to happen when I have a bride getting ready to take to the aisle. This time I think it’s going so fast because this is the bride. I am not really eager to be at their wedding. I guess that would be the reason it’s quickly approaching. I do realize the week is not really moving any faster than the rest of the world’s twenty-four hours in a day mode, but it sure feels that way.
I have been dealing with repeated phone calls from Brendon wondering what the ring Allison saw on my finger was actually doing there. “The same thing the one on Allison’s finger is doing there,” I had said. “Somebody put it there to let the world know I’m taken.” I quickly ended the conversation before he could start in on me. He’s like the flu, he just keeps coming back stronger and with different ways of attack.
Shelly walks in my office. Generally if she needs something she just bellows out the consultant’s name, and we gladly get up and go to her office.
“It’s here. You were amazing.” She says. “Best of all, Shannon will not be suing me.” She drops the Valley Bridal magazine on my desk. The page is marked. I open it up to see the headline. “Perfect Tiffany Record—Gone. Perfect Tiffany Wedding—Still In Style.”
I know the article must be good. Especially since Shelly is standing here with a smile on her face. Of course she did go in for another injection of Botox over the weekend, and her face could technically be frozen in that smile.
“Keep reading.” She says, and then tosses another copy on my desk. “You’ll want to frame that.”
I keep reading aloud. When I’m finished she winks at me and says, “You’re a damn fine consultant Anise.” And then she walks out of my door. I’m still smiling. I can’t stop. This is right up there with getting a raise, shopping spree with somebody else’s money and authentic pasta. This is good. I immediately pick up the phone to call Alex.
It rings a couple times before he answers. He wants to know what’s wrong. “Nothing.” It’s not as if I would only call him in the middle of the morning because something’s wrong. He is a busy man, and he is probably trying to get some work done, but I am sure he is okay with me interrupting his day.
I start reading the article. “Forget about squabbles within the agency and the recent controversial dismissal of a Tiffany consultant for running off with the bride. The real drama lies with Anise Meyers. Ms. Meyers landed in the lead consultant role, and she hit the ground running. Besides planning a high profile wedding for Stacey Lexington, she’s dealing with planning her ex-husband’s wedding to the woman he left her for. She is more than a beautiful fixture at Tiffany Weddings, she’s a top-notch professional. She’s the first to admit that the situation was a test of her maturity, and a big help in finding closure. She has also found love with one “amazingly wonderful man” as she says…”
I keep reading. Ninety-five percent of the article is about me. I can’t believe it. Alex congratulates me. He had no doubt that I could wow the pants off of any reporter, and he is also glad that I managed to mention how amazing he is. Stroking his ego is all part of my new role as fiancé I guess.
I know I need to let him get back to work, and at this point Shelly is calling me from a far. I know I need to get my behind in gear pronto. I halfway skip into Shelly’s office. She asks me to close the door. I can’t imagine that anything has gone wrong in the few minutes since she left my office, so I decide this is probably a social visit.
“Nice rock,” she says. I smile and sit down in the chair across from her.
“He asked over the weekend. We’re getting married in September.” I realize this is the perfect time to ask for some time off for the honeymoon. “It should be a little slow here and we would like to be able to take a honeymoon. We’re planning a cruise ship wedding. I’ll need to take at least a week.”
“You’ll take more than that.” She says this as if she has read my mind. “Two weeks, three, whatever you need. I want pictures.” It’s as if we’re bartering my vacation time.
“Deal,” I say.
She also assures me that I shouldn’t try to plan the wedding myself. “Let somebody else do the hard work,” she said. That somebody else she had in mind was Paul.
“He’s one of the best. Destination weddings are no problem for him, and he can coordinate with the ship’s event planner.” She had a point. I could do without the stress of planning my own wedding.
She stops smiling. This is Shelly in serious mode, so I decide that I too should stop smiling and be serious as well. “Are you okay for this weekend?”
“Of course. I’m not thrilled about seeing all of our old friends under this condition, but I’m a professional. I can handle it.”
“That you are, and I know you can.”
“T-minus two days and counting.” I say as I stand to leave.
“At least it’ll be over soon.” She laughs, and then stands and crosses the room to hug me. I get the feeling she’s grooming me for something. I just don’t know what that something is—not yet anyway.
And The Bride Wore…
“Black!”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how it happened or why, but that is definitely her dress, and it is midnight black. I would be horrified too, but seeing as though I am the wedding consultant here, I need to keep it together. It doesn’t help that she’s yelling at me profusely.
“My wedding dress is black!” She yells again. It’s not as if I can’t see this. “I can’t do this. We’ll just have to postpone.” Like hell we will. I’m not going through this again. They’re getting married if I have to steal a dress off one of the hostess.
“Well, think of it this way.”
“No way in hell!”
“You said you were feeling a little fat today,” I play to the delusions of a model thin woman. “In that dress you won’t be able to tell.” I can see her thinking. “And the new trend in Hollywood is sleek and sexy wedding dresses.” Maybe not black wedding dresses, but I’ll go with it anyway.
“Really?”
Why stop lying now? I’m getting rather good at it.
“Yes. Sleek and sexy is in. You’re going to be ahead of the trend.” This probably isn’t helping Brendon and Allison have a perfect wedding, but there is just no way I can’t sit through planning this event again.
“I can set Arizona on fire with style.” She says, and I know my work is done. If Allison thinks she will be the center of attention and the next fashion trendsetter she’ll go for just about anything.
She keeps rambling on about how great she’ll look while she stands behind the dressing divider and changes. I start to interrupt just to make sure she doesn’t want her dad to walk her down the aisle, but I decide not too. Allison had already assured me more than once that when she walked down the aisle she wanted all eyes focused on her. “Another body will only be a distraction,” she had said. I guess she’ll get her wish. I can’t imagine that anybody will be able to focus on anything other than Allison and her black wedding dress.
I think Mrs. Kruvich and her multiple conversations would be the reason behind the madness. She wanted the black pin cushion; the tailor must have been asking about the dress color so he could make sure he had matching thread. When he heard her say black, and then saw an ivory wedding gown, well he must have assumed she wanted him to change the color. Maybe it’s karma.
I leave the room to keep from laughing. On my way down the hall I see Ray and Mrs. Kruvich.
“She invited us honey. I couldn’t miss this.” Mrs. Kruvich seconds Ray’s position.
“Well there was a little mix up with the alteration instructions. Don’t look shocked when you see her. If you do and she doesn’t go through with this the two of you will be supporting me for the next year and a half.”
“Well you won’t need much.” He points to my finger.
I shush him. “We’ll talk later.”
“You bet we will.”
“Go sit.” I shoo with my hand, and
they take a seat at an aisle table in the back. The walk path is so long that I know they won’t see much of the ceremony from so far back, but they won’t miss the dress.
The minister is ready to start. I get the ladies together. I make sure the men are in place. They opted for standing in place instead of walking down like the women. I watch the flower girl, followed by the first bridesmaid. Then the second, third, fourth and subsequent numbers up until bridesmaid number seven and then the maid of honor. At this point I have Allison off to the side out of view. She’s waiting for the wedding march to start.
Thus far this morning I have already received several condolences on the fact that I have to be here when Brendon is moving on. I think black goes well with condolences. My promise was not to do anything to intentionally mess up this wedding. I haven’t since I made that promise. In fact, this isn’t my fault at all.
The wedding march plays in a loud symphony like orchestrated moment. I give Allison her cue. She walks with her head held high, and I’m still off in the back out of sight. I can see the room clearly.
I’m hoping nobody laughs because she might just make a run for it. What I hear instead is very audible gasp. It’s shock not admiration, but Allison doesn’t notice. She keeps marching with a beaming smile on her face and her head held high, as if she’s the best looking woman in the room. The dress is beautiful, even if it is the wrong color.
I look over at Ray and he looks at me. I can read his face clearly. He too is trying to resist a laugh. Mrs. Kruvich looks horrified. Brendon looks as if he’s in shock too. I am almost sure he blames me for the dress color since Allison told him I gave her so much help with the dress.
I have to quickly step back behind the curtain to avoid being seen as I hold in what could be uncontrollable laughter. If the shoe were on the other foot I’d probably be mortified, but somehow I think she’s getting exactly what she deserves. You just can’t be that cruel to people and not get a kick in the butt later.
I see Taylor sitting off center. She had told me there was no way that she would attend, but I told her she had to go. I figured she’d provide a little support in case I needed it. I can tell she too is laughing. She is not laughing as discreetly as the other few women who have dealt with Allison. Tay has a wide grin on her face and she’s flashing pearly white teeth while holding in the audible part of her laughter.
What can I say? Brendon got his bride; Allison got her unique wedding. I got the job, closure and the right guy. What’s my next stop? Wedding planning with Paul—for me and Alex of course!
About the Author
Shunta Montgomery
Shunta Montgomery also publishes under the name Capri Montgomery. She is the bestselling author of ebooks such as Ride A Cowboy, Across the Lake, The Thirteenth Floor, 1965 and The Bride Wore Black. She enjoys nature—unless the insects are biting her, traveling, old movies, art, photography and music.
Find more books by Shunta Montgomery / Capri Montgomery at: www.lulu.com/haremnights
The Bride Wore Black Page 12
