The Marrying Type

by Laura Chapman

  “I’m pretty sure Libby is going to take Claire away from weddings for the rest of the season. Libby says she needs more help landing the Dalrymple business, never mind taking care of the workload we already have.”

  Rosalyn gave a tight grin. “You’re probably right. She and your father are obsessed with getting that account.”

  “Leaving me to fend for myself.”

  They sat together quietly drinking their champagne until Rosalyn broke the silence.

  “I wish you would have your own wedding to plan.”

  Elliot nearly dropped her glass at the abrupt change in subjects. No matter how many times she’d explained that planning a wedding of her own wasn’t a priority, Rosalyn didn’t listen. Not that Elliot was opposed to getting married. Someday.

  Chapter Seven

  “They do not love that do not show their love.”

  ~ William Shakespeare

  ELLIOT HAD A SURPRISE encounter with Sadie Warner while she was out for a run along the beach.

  “I didn’t realize you liked running, too,” Sadie said, falling into step alongside Elliot.

  “I don’t.” She breathed deeply through her nose, fighting to get enough breath in her lungs to carry on a conversation while running. “I hate every second of this.”

  “Then why are you out here?”

  “I exercise because I’m vain enough to care about whether or not the camera adds fifteen pounds.” She lengthened her stride to keep up with the bride. “Actually, I started working out regularly a few years ago. I gained a few pounds my last few years of college. When I came home, my sister told me a fat wedding planner was bad for business.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “That’s Libby.” Elliot shook her head and wiped beads of sweat from her face. “No, she’s not terrible. Just brutally honest. And she wasn’t completely wrong. Overeating was a coping mechanism. I ate when I was sad. I ate when I was mad. I ate when I was lonely. Basically, I ate all the time. With a little help from a counselor, I found new ways to deal with my emotions. Hence the sweating.”

  “I suppose this is a healthier way to deal.” Sadie frowned. “I still can’t get over your sister. My brother would never judge me about my weight.”

  “Why would he? You’re gorgeous.”

  Despite her initial discomfort at working with Eric’s younger sister, Elliot liked her. Since meeting weeks earlier, the two had forged a friendship. They spoke daily, which was normal for an event planner and bride on a short countdown-to-the-wedding schedule. Their conversations always began on topic. By the time they said good-bye, they’d always moved on from wedding plans. They’d discovered a mutual love for British period dramas and had celebrity crushes on the same band of actors and singers.

  More than likely, the friendship had an expiration date. After the wedding, Sadie would move on with her married life. Elliot would focus on another job. The wedding planning business depended on that kind of turnover. Still, she appreciated having a friend. Even for a short time. Some people only belonged in your life for a few months. You valued and appreciated them while they were around, but at some point you moved on. A brief relationship didn’t make it any less important.

  When they slowed to their cool-down, Sadie dropped a major bomb. “My brother will be in town later this week. He wants to be closer for the planning and figures the East Coast will be a nice place to relax for the summer.” Sadie cleared her throat. “I want to introduce you. Will you have dinner with us when he gets here?”

  No, Elliot wanted to say. Absolutely not. Making small talk with her ex over a plate of spinach dip or bruschetta was not part of her plan. Add that Sadie was still in the dark about their past, and the situation was even more complicated. She’d understood he would be involved with the planning from the get-go. She intended to limit their meetings to cake and flower shops. She trusted herself to stay professional in those settings. Faced with the possibility of meeting with him in a non-comfort zone freaked her out.

  What if she got too nervous and brought up their past? What if he did? Would she blow this business opportunity during the salad course? She considered making an excuse, but found herself nodding at the bride’s hopeful expression.

  “Thank you.” Her cheerfulness gave Elliot instant guilt. “I love my brother more than anything in the world, well except for Adam. And you’re quickly becoming one of my favorite people. I want nothing more than for you to meet him and like him, too.”

  Not likely. If anything, Eric would probably hate her more for not fessing up the moment Sadie contacted her. Elliot should tell her. Now. Before everything became even more complicated. Still . . . she wanted to do this wedding. At first it had been about the money, but now she liked Sadie and wanted to make her day perfect.

  Once Sadie discovered their complicated history, she’d have no choice but to find a different wedding planner. A sweet person like Sadie wouldn’t put her wedding above her brother’s happiness. If Eric had kept his mouth shut thus far, well, she would, too.

  Back at home, Elliot scanned through her emails before hopping in the shower. More of the usual, but one actually made her smile. It was an email from Smyth. They’d met the summer after her junior year when they’d both had hospitality internships at a hotel on Hilton Head Island. His grandma was a Charleston native, and she’d run into him again on holidays. After college he’d moved to L.A., where he and his partner ran a moderately successful wedding business.

  Once upon a time, she and Smyth had done a better job of staying in touch, but the past couple of years had been too busy for either of them to make the cross-country trip for a visit. Now she read his email eagerly to catch up on what had happened during their months of radio silence.

  Elliot,

  Long time no see, my friend. I need to do a better job of keeping in touch. I suck.

  Anyway, I wanted to tell you I’m moving back to Charleston in a couple of weeks. My business and relationship are kaput. I’ll be staying in the apartment over my grandma’s garage until I figure out my life. God, this sounds even more depressing in an email than it did when I told my mom.

  Sounds like you’ve been super busy lately. If you’re ever free, I’d love to meet up with you. I realize you’re in the thick of wedding season and you’re filming a TV show, but . . . I hope you can squeeze me into your schedule. No worries if you can’t. I definitely understand.

  - Smyth

  P.S. I saw your TV promos. Way to bring your sexy self to the screen, girl.

  Elliot grinned. From anyone else, she’d take this message as a desperate attempt from someone down on his luck hoping to rise up again. With her modest TV connection, she was gaining publicity other planners envied. Once the show aired, there’d be even more requests to reconnect.

  But from Smyth, this message was exactly what he’d said: one friend hoping to grab a drink with another friend to catch up on life.

  She reread his message and frowned. While she was excited to spend time with an old friend, her heart ached for him. His tone wasn’t too self-pitying, but Smyth must be in a low place. He needed friendship, support, and a job.

  Well, she could do something about each of those requests.

  Before she questioned whether or not she should make an executive decision like this on her own, she replied to his message.

  Smyth,

  Great to hear from you. It sounds like we have a lot to catch up on. Drinks are a must. Call me once you’re settled in town.

  By the way, do you have any ideas where a girl might find someone willing to help out through the summer and fall?

  - E

  It was true. She needed his help. With her sister and father planning to put most of their focus on wooing the Dalrymple business—and taking Claire with them on most of their meetings—Elliot seriously needed help. At least for the next few months while her family dreamt of finding bigger money and more prestige.

  A FEW DAYS LATER, ELLIOT dressed for the Warner dinne
r with care and precision. Sadie had called earlier in the day to confirm their plans.

  “I told him everything about you. I’m sure he’ll adore you, too.”

  Poor Sadie. Elliot hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed when they maintained a polite but cold conversation. She would remain professional while they shared dinner and a few words, but expected nothing more. She didn’t blame him for hating her. She blamed herself. Men, she had learned, did not take rejection well. They moved across the country, forgot you existed, and dated a string of models.

  “Oh, good grief.” Elliot glared at her reflection in the mirror. “Relax. You only have to deal with the man for the summer. Soon, he’ll be out of your life forever and you can move on.”

  She didn’t want to give any indication she’d spent even one second thinking about him in the past eight years. In her go-to knee-length black dress, Elliot layered metallic necklaces around her neck, twisting them for texture. She wore her best pair of silver stilettos. While the second-year college student who took women’s studies classes cried inside of her, she had to admit she felt powerful in those high heels. At least, she rationalized, they put her closer to his eye level.

  She spent a few extra minutes in front of the bathroom mirror applying makeup. She covered each lash with mascara and blended the eye shadow and blush to perfection. She spritzed her sexiest perfume, because, why not? She may as well show up to battle with her full arsenal. Gazing at the mirror, her stomach churned. She took deep breaths to settle her nerves.

  “Confidence,” she whispered to her reflection.

  Fifteen minutes before their scheduled dinner, Elliot arrived at the restaurant. She ordered a glass of Riesling at the bar hoping the drink would give her the courage she needed.

  While sipping the wine, she hashed out a tentative game plan. She’d act politely detached. Mildly curious. Poised. Her pounding heart begged to differ. And were here ears buzzing? She heard a buzz buzz buzz pulse in them.

  “Your phone is ringing,” the bartender said.

  “Pardon?”

  “Your phone. It’s buzzing in your pocket.”

  Oh. She slipped it out of her pocket and checked the number. Unregistered. With minutes to spare before Eric and Sadie arrived, she hesitated to answer. If it was a nervous bride, it might take a while. But if she didn’t answer, she might send the poor thing into a panic attack.

  Guilt got the better of her. “Engagements. This is Elliot.”

  “Hey, it’s Chase.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Where are you calling from?”

  “The hospital.” Her stomach lurched, and this time it wasn’t because of her cell phone. “It’s Marissa. We were reviewing footage and she fainted.”

  She nearly stopped breathing. “Is she okay?”

  “The doctors are running tests, but . . . can you come?”

  “I’m on my way.” She took a few deep breaths, trying to compose herself, and called Libby, who was spending a few days in Columbia. No answer. She left a message to keep her in the loop. She tried her father next. Another no answer. Of course. She finally reached Rosalyn, who promised to continue attempts to get in touch with Libby and Walter while Elliot headed to the hospital.

  No longer fighting the growing panic, Elliot stood up. Belatedly remembering to pay her tab, she tossed a twenty on the bar, not caring about change. She walked out the door and into a man’s chest. He caught her by the shoulders.

  “Sorry.” It took her a moment to register the face. “Oh.”

  Eric Warner. In the flesh. She would’ve been mortified or shocked if she weren’t already overwhelmed with worry and terror.

  “Sorry we kept you waiting,” Sadie said. She began to make introductions, but paused, her face growing concerned. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

  “I have to leave. I had a call. I—I have to go.”

  “Wait.” Sadie removed her brother’s hands, which still gripped Elliot’s shoulders, and picked up the planner’s hands. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s my cousin. Marissa. She’s in the hospital. I have to go.” She tugged her hand free and searched for the keys in her purse. “Can we reschedule? This is completely unprofessional, but—”

  “Of course we’re rescheduling. I’m going with you.” Sadie snatched the keys out of her hand. As an afterthought, she called out to her brother, “I’m driving Elliot to the hospital. Will you pick me up later?”

  Elliot felt Eric’s stare, but her nerves were too frayed to spare him a glance. “Thanks, but I’m okay. I’m meeting Chase. I’ll be fine.”

  Sadie wasn’t deterred. “You’ve done nothing but support me the past couple of weeks, and I’m sure you will many more times before the wedding. I can take you to the damn hospital.”

  They shared no conversation on the drive to the hospital. Occasionally, Sadie snuck nervous glances at Elliot. She did her best to keep it together, but Elliot was scared. The last time she went to a hospital . . . she cleared her mind. Not now.

  The ER had plenty of parking, and they were inside moments later. At the counter, a nurse directed them to the waiting room where they found Chase. He gave a quick update. The doctors were running some blood work, but for the moment, Marissa seemed stabilized. Like Elliot, he was shaky. His wife might be prone to worrying about her allergies and fretting over headaches, but she’d never passed out.

  Elliot sat in one of the rigid chairs and surveyed her surroundings. The pale mint green walls and framed coastal watercolor seemed better suited for a crappy motel than a hospital. Little had changed since she was here ten years ago.

  “Thanks for being here,” Elliot said, squeezing Sadie’s hand. “I hate hospitals.”

  “I haven’t spent a lot of time in hospitals, but I understand,” Sadie said. “Except for having babies, people usually don’t come for good reasons.”

  “We spent a lot of time here when I was younger.”

  “Why?”

  “My mom was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was thirteen.” Elliot paused to clear her throat. “She had a double mastectomy and came here for chemo treatments. Rosalyn, her friend who owns the bridal boutique, brought me every day after school. I’d sit with Mom while I did my homework. Eventually it worked. She went into remission.

  “Senior year of high school she came in for her regular appointment. Aside from being a little tired, she felt great. Engagements had been booming for a couple of years. Some weeks she had five or six events. She’d blamed her tiredness on the hectic schedule.”

  Elliot paused and broke eye contact with Sadie. She blinked at the fluorescent lights overhead to fight the tears forming. After a few seconds, she had control and continued.

  “The cancer was back. It had spread to her lungs. The doctors gave us statistics, and the numbers weren’t good. Mom decided to fight it. Where there was a chance there was hope, she said. She did the chemo again. She lost her hair again.” Elliot’s voice cracked. A single tear slipped down her cheek. She wouldn’t allow another. “She passed away that February.”

  Sadie sniffled, drawing her attention.

  “Are you okay? Elliot asked

  “Don’t worry about me.” She waved off Elliot’s concern, but accepted a tissue to wipe her nose. “I’m a sympathetic crier.”

  At long last, a doctor stepped into the waiting room and called Chase forward. Elliot craned her neck to overhear the conversation, but her heart pounded too loudly in her ears. Chase nodded and—without sparing them a glance—followed the doctor down the hall.

  “What the . . .” Sadie trailed off. Chase paused halfway and turned back.

  “She’s fine,” he called out. “I’m going in to see her, and you can talk to her next. But she’s fine. A little dehydrated from the extra work with filming, but we’re going home soon.”

  The women exchanged grins while wiping their tears.

  “Dehydration,” Elliot repeated. “Tears and a near panic attack over dehydration.”

  From The Ma
rrying Type Transcript

  Filmed: June

  Airing: October

  Announcer: Eric Warner is used to making important decisions. But right now, he’s using his genius for something other than creating the next biggest trend to sweep the Internet.

  Eric sorts through a pile of fabric swatches.

  Eric: I’m doing what I can to help out my sister.

  Announcer: Eric is used to stepping up for his sister. Their father, a Cleveland police officer, was killed in the line of duty when they were young.

  Photo montage of the Warner family, including photos from their parents’ wedding and Eric and Sadie at various points in their childhood.

  Eric: Our mom worked two jobs to support us, and I did what I could.

  Sadie: Eric has always been the best brother. He taught me how to ride my bike, and now he’s here helping me choose place settings.

  Announcer: Even with her son’s big bucks, Sadie’s mother continues to work full-time.

  Eric: Our mom doesn’t believe in free rides. She’s hard-working, caring, and the strongest person I’ve ever met. She taught my sister and me to work for the life we wanted, and to never give up.

  Sadie: With my brother’s success, she could easily retire to the house my brother bought for her in Tampa.

  Eric: But she won’t, because she believes in a person making her own success.

  Sadie: Mom taught us to work hard and love harder.

  Announcer: The Warners might not believe in free lunches, but what about free samples? They have a cake tasting and more ahead of them. We hope they’re hungry.

  Eric: This is the part of wedding planning I can get into.

  Chapter Eight

  “Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.”