8
Veronica and TJ took a cab across town to LaScaldena’s, a posh boutique that specialized in designer wedding gowns. As they approached the front door, Veronica noted the intercom located beside it, along with the “By Appointment Only” sign.
“Well, this is great. Now what?” Things were already off to a bad start.
TJ just smiled and reached for the buzzer.
A women’s voice boomed over the intercom almost immediately. “Yes?”
“Good morning. My associate and I were sent here by one of our clients, Marly West, to discuss her gown. We are from O’Rourke Signature Events.” TJ winked at Veronica.
Impressive. Why hadn’t she thought of throwing out the names? Marly and Gertie were fairly well-known in the city.
A buzzer went off, then the door clicked and a petite woman opened it for them, ushering them inside. “Wait here, please. Miss LaScaldena will be with you in a moment.”
The boutique consisted of a giant room with glistening black-and-white marble floors and a huge pink crystal chandelier hanging in the middle. Wedding gowns loaded with lace, pearls, and rhinestones sparkled on mannequins and hung from racks. Mahogany-doored dressing rooms dotted the perimeter. Walking by one, Veronica peeked inside and saw the dressing room was actually more like a suite, with a room covered in mirrors and a platform in the middle for the bride to stand on. Champagne glasses, too? She really could use a drink right about now.
“How may I help you?” A monotone voice interrupted Veronica’s gawking, and she looked over to see a tall, older woman who looked as if she were dressed for a funeral staring at her and TJ. Her ankle-length black dress was paired with a pearl necklace and earrings. Her lips were perfectly applied with vibrant pink lipstick. Veronica couldn’t help but stare at them. She wondered if they glowed in the dark. Maybe it was a new wedding trend or something.
“Hello. I’m Veronica St. James, and this is TJ… er…”
TJ held out his hand to the woman. “TJ Flannery. Nice to meet you.”
Veronica felt like an idiot, she couldn’t even introduce TJ because she didn’t remember his last name! Ugh! Pull yourself together; don’t be such an amateur, she told herself, resisting the urge to slap on more lip balm.
“Our client, Marly West, was here earlier, and there seems to be some kind of a mix-up with her gown,” Veronica explained, noticing the woman’s jaw tighten as soon as she said Marly’s name.
“Yes, yes, Marly. Of course. I’m Viviane LaScaldena. I worked with Ms. West personally on creating her gown. A beautiful gown, really. She has a great eye for design. It is truly a stunning gown. Unfortunately, when she was in early this morning, the gown didn’t fit well. It’s a shame, really.”
Veronica and TJ looked at each other, surprised at the woman’s calm.
“So you’re aware you made the dress too small? I mean, you didn’t make it to Marly’s size,” TJ said matter-of-factly.
“No, no. I’m sure we made it according to what we were told. We simply would not make a mistake like that. Ms. West must have gained weight. Let me look at her file.” The woman walked to an elegant, mirrored 1930s-style desk and picked up a card. “Yes, see? Right here.”
The woman turned the card toward them, and they both squinted to make sense of the scribbling.
“Where did you say you were from? O’Rourke’s? Someone called in the new measurements from there yesterday morning. It’s all right here in the notes. Look.” Viviane tapped the card with a perfectly polished nail. “We worked all night to alter the gown. This is what I told Ms. West when she came in earlier for the final fitting. She was not pleased.”
“This makes no sense. You’ve met Marly. Why would you think she wanted her gown taken in so much? Why didn’t you check with her before you made the alterations?” Veronica asked, noting that there wasn’t even a name associated with the changes on the card. “Did you at least get the name of the person who asked that the changes be made? I mean, why wouldn’t you do that?”
Viviane snatched the card back and squinted at it. She picked up a folder from the desk and flipped through a few pages, pursing her pink lips as she did so.
Finally she glanced up at Veronica, her lips set in a thin line. “Ms. St John, I run a very tight ship here. Our wedding gowns are all custom-made, one-of-a-kind creations. Perhaps we didn’t get the name of the person who called in these changes, but that doesn’t really concern me as only someone with intimate details about the bride would know to call here in the first place.”
The woman had a point. Who would have known that Marly’s dress was being made here? There could have been many people. Anyone in the wedding party, for example. And anyone that Marly had told. But the person had said they were from O’Rourke’s, and Marly had only hired the firm yesterday.
“Regarding why we didn’t check with Ms. West prior to making the changes,” Viviane continued, “as her wedding planner, I am sure you are aware that she is quite busy designing a new clothing line and receiving calls every day about her wedding gown would be a bit ridiculous. In fact, it is your job as her planner to ensure this is all done with minimal interference and stress to her. After all, it’s her special day!”
Veronica watched the woman’s bright pink lips flapping as she spoke and wondered how all that lipstick didn’t smudge all over her face and teeth. So far, this conversation was getting them nowhere closer to having a gown that actually fit Marly. All that had happened was a blame game. As she was deciding on what to say, TJ spoke up.
“Look, we can go back and forth all day about who is responsible for this. The bottom line is Marly has no gown to wear, and we need to fix that. So what is the next step to get that done?” TJ asked.
Good thing TJ had spoken up. Her response to Viviane wouldn’t have been as polite, and probably wouldn’t have been very productive.
“Well, her gown needs to be made again. I need all new material. It’s about a six-week process. I think I can salvage the crystals. They are hand sewn. But if I can’t, that will add another four weeks to the process.” Viviane sounded almost bored.
Veronica’s heart sank. “What? No! We don’t have that much time. We have seven days. That’s it. We need the same exact gown, in a size twelve, in seven days. No exceptions.”
“I’m afraid that is quite impossible.” Viviane glanced at the door as if she hoped her assistant would arrive to usher them out.
“But there must be some way,” TJ said with his usual calm demeanor and charming smile. Veronica didn’t think that would work on this woman. She knew something that might, though. The same thing that usually motivated people to do the impossible—a veiled threat.
“I’m sure you realize this wedding will be in all the local papers and tabloids. You don’t want any negative publicity if the gown isn’t ready. So how do we make this happen?” Veronica locked eyes with Viviane and refused to look away. She knew when she said “negative publicity” she had grabbed the woman’s attention. She would get Marly her gown, no matter what. She refused to fail.
Viviane narrowed her eyes at Veronica. She walked over to another desk, then opened a large book that looked like some kind of schedule. She picked up the pink princess phone on the desk, dialed, and spoke quietly into it for a few seconds before turning to Veronica and TJ with a sour look on her face. “I can have the gown made again in the correct size within your deadline for an extra five thousand dollars.”
“What?” Both TJ and Veronica yelled.
Viviane rolled her eyes. “This is a custom gown, you realize that? Custom. It has hand-sewn crystals on it! And I’m not sure I can salvage much of the original material from the gown as I cut it during the final alteration. And I will have to pay a lot of overtime to my seamstresses. What is important to me is that Ms. West is happy with her decision to work with me to have designed the gown in the first place. I mean, if she should ever want to start a wedding gown line…”
Veronica opened her mouth and then sh
ut it. Okay, so this would mean they would eat an additional five thousand dollars, but Marly would have her gown in time. “Okay, fine. Do it. But let’s be clear: no one can make any alteration decisions unless it is Marly or myself. I’ll follow up with you in a few days to check your progress. Send the invoice for the five thousand dollars to us.”
“As you wish,” Viviane nodded her dismissal, and Veronica twirled around and headed out of the store, TJ hot on her heels.
“Are you crazy? Five thousand dollars? This is our first event, and we need to stay in budget,” TJ said, hailing a cab.
“Marly needs a dress. And not just any dress. She designed this one herself. We don’t have a choice,” Veronica said. “I could tell Viviane wasn’t going to accept the blame, so I figured we’d just have to pay for it.”
“I suppose you’re right. But how do you think this happened in the first place? I mean, it’s a massive screwup.” A cab pulled to the curb, and TJ opened the door for her.
Veronica plopped down in the back of the cab. She was already exhausted, and it wasn’t even lunch yet. “Good question. I guess it could have been just a fluke miscommunication.”
“Good thinking in there about the publicity. If you hadn’t said that, she might not have agreed to make another gown so quickly.” TJ squeezed her hand as he sat next to her and then quickly dropped it and told the cab driver where to take them.
Veronica froze, unsure what to think about the hand squeeze. Did it mean something? No, he was probably just happy she’d talked Viviane into making the dress and had probably meant it as an added “good job” gesture. She was sure it signified nothing, because guys weren’t into her like that… certainly not guys as good-looking as TJ.
9
Back at the office, Veronica grabbed a cup of coffee and a pack of Peppermint Patties and got to work on the proposal. Now that she had an extra five thousand dollars to shave off, things were becoming difficult at best. She had worked so hard on the numbers and had finally gotten them where TJ needed them to be before this stupid wedding gown disaster.
Lucky thing TJ had gone with her to the bridal shop. His calm demeanor really had helped. But why had he gone? He’d seemed worried about making sure things went smoothly for this event for Gertie’s sake. Maybe he didn’t trust Veronica to fix the problem on her own.
And the hand squeeze? Just co-worker stuff. Yep, co-workers probably did that all the time, right? Veronica wouldn’t know. She’d never had any that she’d gotten along with before now. She slipped her hand into her drawer and grabbed the lip balm, smoothing it on her lips and returning her focus to the budget.
The budget was lean to begin with, and Veronica had already been planning to see if she could use any of the linens Gertie had in storage. Maybe Gertie had other things she could use. Centerpieces, candle holders, chair covers. So many little touches were needed to make the room look just right. If Gertie had some of this stuff from the catering businesses she’d bought out, Veronica would be able to shave quite a bit off the bottom line.
She headed to the elevator. Hopefully Gertie hadn’t filled the storage area with a bunch of useless junk. She swiped the lip balm on her lips as the elevator hummed down to the basement. If she didn’t find anything good down here, she’d have to do something drastic. Maybe cut out more of the appetizers… or get rid of those little boxes for the extra pieces of wedding cake.
The elevator doors opened, and Veronica squinted into the dimness as a whoosh of damp mildewed air hit her. She hadn’t realized how creepy it would be down here.
She exited uncertainly. Maybe she should come back down later. Preferably with someone else. But she didn’t have time to waste. She needed to get this proposal done, and besides, it was the middle of the work day. Didn’t Gertie have people working down here? It’s not as though one of them would be a serial killer or something.
In front of her was a handwritten sign that read “Storage” with an arrow toward a thick wooden door. She pushed it, and the rusted iron hinges creaked, reminding her of every scary movie she’d ever seen. Her heart fluttered, and she swiped more lip balm on her lips.
The storage area was massive, running almost the entire length of the mill. There were shelves everywhere. Old tables. Dress forms. Clothing racks. Had Gertie bought out every store that had ever gone out of business?
The space was broken up by several rooms that ran along the outer walls. Veronica glanced at the items on the shelves, but there was so much stuff, she couldn’t hone in on anything in particular. Hopefully the linens wouldn’t smell moldy or she’d have to have them dry-cleaned, and that would add yet another cost.
She started to poke through the items, hoping to find some candles or linens, but her search was quickly interrupted when she heard voices approaching. She froze and listened. Shoot, it was Marly and her best friend, Sarah Thomas!
If Marly saw her poking through this old stuff, she might kick up a fuss. And Veronica wasn’t too keen on seeing Marly after the wedding dress fiasco.
Why were they even here? Gertie must be showing them around or something. Veronica quickly ran to one of the rooms, opened the door, and ducked inside. She stood still for a minute, listening for the voices when…
Slam!
The heavy door slammed shut! She let out a yelp, then covered her mouth with her hands and stood completely still for a minute, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She fumbled for the door handle, finally located it, and turned it to no avail. She tried again, twisting the handle repeatedly.
It was no use; she was locked in.
Harper hurried out through the thick wooden door before crossing to the large open area near the windows that she’d set up for Marly and her maid of honor, Sarah.
She was certain they wouldn’t hear Veronica through the door all the way on the other side of the basement. She felt a slight pang of guilt at shutting Veronica in the room with the faulty doorknob, but she wouldn’t leave her in there forever. Just long enough to get Marly riled up and hopefully cause more problems for both of them.
She greeted the two women, careful not to mention her name so they couldn’t report her later. Harper tried not to laugh at the horrified looks on their faces as they surveyed the items she’d laid out on the table. She’d chosen some pretty hideous things. Table linens that looked like they were from the dark ages and a bunch of brass monkeys that she assumed had once been centerpieces. They had a hole in the middle for flowers and were absolutely horrid.
“What is this crap?” Marly asked as she and Sarah stood in front of the layout of old linens and hideous brass centerpieces, picking one of the gaudy centerpieces up and waving it in front of Sarah with a confused look on her face. “Is this a monkey?”
“Whatever it is, it’s ugly!” Sarah replied, making a face.
“Well, these are a few of the things that your wedding planner said she was planning to use,” Harper explained, a smile planted on her face.
“What? No way!” Marly and Sarah both exclaimed in unison. Marly dropped the monkey centerpiece, and it thudded loudly as it landed on the table.
“You’re kidding, right?” Sarah asked.
Harper shook her head.
“I’m not using this in the wedding. The linens look like leftovers from a wedding that took place in 1970. And the centerpieces are absolutely hideous. I mean, they’re monkeys for crying out loud!” Marly shot a disgusted look at the items laid out on the table. “This is not at all what I want at my reception! Is this some kind of joke? Are we on camera?”
“No, it’s not a joke. I’m really sorry. I don’t know anything about the selection process. I was asked to get all of your stuff together so you could see it.” Harper tried to look apologetic, but she was secretly thrilled at Marly’s reaction. She had picked the worst of the items that were being donated to local homeless shelters or thrown in the trash.
“I can’t believe she did this. I knew this would happen! It’s like she’s doing the opposite of what
a real wedding planner would do!” Marly paced the length of the table, agitated. “Like I have time to deal with this crap. She’s incompetent. Maybe I should just work from here because I seem to have to be here every day anyway. What a waste of a trip.”
“I don’t even know what to say. I am so sorry, really!” Harper exclaimed, sounding as sincere as she could.
“It’s not your fault.” Marly managed a tight smile, giving Harper second thoughts about what she’d just done. She actually seemed kind of nice. But Harper knew she wasn’t. At least not according to Uncle Tanner.
Marly stormed off to the elevator with Sarah behind her, both of them talking about how incompetent and stupid Veronica was.
Harper listened to them until they were on the elevator, yet again feeling a slight pang of guilt. Messing around with someone’s wedding was bad. Marly had been really upset. But if Veronica was her friend, why had she and Sarah said such mean things about her? If they really were friends, they all seemed like backstabbers, just as Uncle Tanner had said they were.
Veronica fumbled around the dark room for what seemed hours until she found the light switch on the wall opposite the door. Flipping it, she squinted as the fluorescent lights clicked and hummed softly as they lit the room.
In front of her were shelves full of items she might use for Marly’s reception: crisp white linens, candles, a guest book, even some really cute items for place cards for guests.
They all fit the low-key theme that Marly wanted. Simple yet elegant. She started to gather the items on an empty table in the middle of the room before going back to the door, hoping that someone had noticed she was missing by now and was looking for her. She didn’t hear anyone outside.
She banged on the door.
“Hello? Anyone out there?” she yelled.
Nothing.
She tried again.
She stared at the door, trying to figure how she could break it down when the knob rattled. Then something heavy smashed against the door. She jumped back just as it flew open and TJ skidded inside.
What Goes Around Comes Around (Corporate Chaos Series Book 3) Page 5
