The Marrying Type

by Laura Chapman

  “I have a question.”

  “What?” Elliot asked, still catching her breath.

  “When you were planning our wedding—and don’t pretend you weren’t—did you have something big and splashy like this in mind?”

  “What do you think?”

  He shook his head. “No. I always imagined us eloping to an Austrian monastery, or an Italian villa. That was after I made my money, of course. Or maybe we’d get married right here at your house, or on the beach behind my place in California.” He gave her a gentle squeeze. “No big fuss. Quiet, beautiful, and full of love. Just us saying ‘I do’ and ‘I will.’”

  “Just us,” she agreed, kissing his chin. They’d been apart for so long, but he still understood her better than anyone else. Eric lifted his hand to her cheek and their lips met again. Neither of them seemed capable of stopping. They’d been apart too long and had a lot of making up to do. After they finally drew apart, the music beckoned them.

  “Come on. Dance with your sister and then dance with me.” Elliot tugged his hand. “Let’s give those overly starched society ladies something to talk about at their next Garden Club meeting.”

  With flushed faces and grins lingering on their just-kissed lips, Eric and Elliot walked toward the tent of her people, his people, and a second take at their happily ever after.

  From The Marrying Type Transcript

  Filmed: September

  Air Date: December—Season Finale

  Announcer: Say it isn’t so! Elliot Lynch has finished coordinating her last wedding—for now, at least.

  Elliot: After almost thirty years in the event planning business, we at Engagements have decided to move on.

  Announcer: But just what will the Engagements staff do if they’re not involved in planning Charleston’s classiest events?

  Elliot: My father will retire as planned. My sister signed a contract to be a fashion blogger on a wedding magazine’s website. She’ll be working from home, which is her dream come true. Our assistant Claire already moved on to a new venture with Weddings by Will, who will take on our customers.

  Eric: I’ve asked Elliot and Smyth to run a new division of my company. One focused on taking event planning online. He said yes, and she’s playing hard to get.

  Elliot: I am not. I’m weighing my options. Maybe I have something else I’d like to do.

  Eric: Like what?

  Elliot: Like figure out what I want to do. For years I’ve been doing what everyone wanted. Now, I have a few opportunities to mull over, but maybe I’ll do something different. Go rogue. Pave my own path.

  Eric: And you’ll be the best at it, no matter what you do.

  Elliot: That’s nice of you to say.

  Eric: It’s true. (clears throat) Flattery can only help me at the moment.

  Elliot: You were always such a smarty pants.

  Eric: I try. I’m ready to pack my suitcases for wherever you decide we’re going.

  Announcer: Throughout the journey of planning Sadie and Adam’s special day, we’ve come to learn our favorite Charleston wedding planner and America’s most eligible bachelor have more in common than the season’s biggest wedding.

  A photo and video montage pairs images from Eric and Elliot’s past with moments documented earlier in the show. Eric and Elliot go sledding as students. They impress everyone with their dance moves at class months earlier. They stand on the beach during spring break. They lock lips on the Kiss Cam at a baseball game. Eric gives his toast, and Elliot watches, eyes glistening. A final shot shows them on the dance floor at Sadie and Adam’s wedding. Elliot’s head rests on his shoulder as they sway to the music.

  Announcer (cont.): After years apart, will there be a romance rekindling in the future?

  Eric: I’m ready to pack my suitcases and follow Elliot wherever she decides we’re going. If she asks me to her party. (Faces Elliot.) Will you?

  Elliot: Would I? You’re my number one invite.

  Eric: Put me down as a definite yes.

  Elliot: Fish or steak course?

  Eric: Surprise me.

  Elliot: I will.

  THANK YOU FOR READING The Marrying Type. I hope you enjoyed Elliot and Eric’s story about second chances, family ties, and the enduring power of love.

  If you want to find out what happens next, download your free copy of Smyth Saves the Date. This short follow-up stars Elliot’s best friend Smyth as he plans the wedding of the year to boost his own TV career.

  Download here >>

  Now that you’ve gone behind the scenes of a wedding planning business, do you wonder what happens on the set of a home improvement TV show? In Playing House, Bailey is a work in progress. Her new boss Wilder is a fixer upper. Could this be true love or will secrets from their pasts get in the way?

  Buy it here >>

  About the Author

  LAURA CHAPMAN IS THE author of sweet and sexy romantic comedies. A born and raised Nebraska girl, she loves watching football, traveling, crafting, and baking. When she isn’t writing her next story, she is probably binge-watching Netflix with her cats Jane and Bingley.

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  By Laura Chapman

  The Marrying Type

  Smyth Saves the Date

  Playing House

  Making Christmas

  What Happens at Midnight

  The Queen of the League Trilogy

  First & Goal

  Going for Two

  Three & Out

  Amarillo Sour Series

  Counting on You

  Let It Be Me (Fall 2019)

  Sneak peek of Playing House

  SHE'S A WORK IN PROGRESS . . .

  Bailey Meredith has had it. As an assistant at a prestigious interior design firm, she’s tired of making coffee and filing invoices. She’ll do just about anything to get out from under the paperwork and into the field for real experience. Then she sees an ad for a job that seems too good to be true.

  He's a fixer upper . . .

  Wilder Aldrich knew she would be perfect for the crew the moment he saw her. His hit home improvement show only hired the best, and Bailey had potential written all over her. It isn’t just her imaginative creativity and unmatched work ethic that grabs his attention. There’s just something about her.

  With chemistry on screen, it’s only a matter of time before sparks fly behind the scenes as well. But with Bailey’s jaded views on romance and a big secret that could destroy Wilder and everyone he cares about are either of them willing to risk it all for love?

  Bailey Meredith tended to worry more than anyone else in her family.

  Mama thought a woman should do her best and not fret about the rest. Her big sister, Paige, liked to live and let live—and boy, did she live. Nana believed in leaving everything up to the good Lord’s plan. Roger, her mother’s long-term gentleman friend, well, the only thing he worried about was whether or not the damn Cowboys—pardon his language—were ever going to make it to the Super Bowl again in his lifetime—no disrespect.

  But Bailey worried. When she was in high school, she worried no one would ask her to the prom. (She ended up with three invitations, which opened up a whole mess of other concerns.) In college, she worried about making good enough grades to get into a graduate program at a reputable architecture school. (Again, she wound up having her pick, before settling on the University of Texas.) And just last week, she worried about whether or not she should renew the lease on her studio apartment in downtown Dallas. (She’d make that decision based on how the job interview went today.)

  Oddly enough, she wasn’t worried about the interview. The way she saw it, if it went well and she got an offer, she’d be sitting pretty. She could either use it as leverage to get her current firm to pony up on their long-held promise to promote he
r from a personal assistant to a full-fledged designer. Or, they wouldn’t take the bait and she’d quit. If the interview didn’t pan out, well, she still had her job getting coffee for the people who were living her dream. At least it paid the rent.

  Her sister saw the situation a little differently.

  “Don’t you think this whole thing is funny?” Paige asked from her perch on the edge of the bathtub, where she watched Bailey coat mascara on her lashes.

  “I’m not sure that a job interview offers much to laugh about.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She did, but forever the little sister, Bailey liked to work Paige up a little before conceding to anything.

  “Well, let’s see here.” Bailey pursed her lips, deciding she liked this shade of lipstick just fine. She usually left her lips bare, except for Chap Stick, but today called for something special, something bold. The bright red—or Fearless Femme, as it said on the side of the tube—worked. She felt like Marilyn Monroe. Even if her gray pant suit and cobalt blouse were more demure than anything the starlet had ever worn. She felt powerful and in control. She felt confident and beautiful. Mostly, she didn’t feel worried.

  Satisfied with her overall appearance, she turned away from the mirror, leaning a hip against the counter. “I replied to an ad looking for an interior design assistant who—and I quote—‘will create home designs and oversee them through to completion.’”

  It was like the ad had been written for her. Wanted: Interior design assistant for a short-term contract. Ideal candidate will have minimum three years of professional experience and related undergraduate degree. Requires expansive portfolio with referrals, self-starter who works well on a team. Must be deadline-oriented, budget-conscious, and flexible. Prefer a candidate with architectural and post-graduate experience.

  And unlike her current job, there was no mention of getting coffees for the top brass.

  “I not only met the required and preferred qualifications, but I’ve been through two rounds of phone interviews, and they want to meet me in person.”

  “Yes, but even after applying for that job and going through two phone interviews, you still have no idea who you’ll be working for.”

  That was true. The ad had been for a confidential entity, which would remain a secret until an offer was on the table. Assuming she got the offer, she’d know the who soon enough. If she didn’t . . . it didn’t matter. She didn’t care.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “What if this is a CIA front?”

  Bailey arched a freshly tweezed and penciled eyebrow. “The CIA hires interior designers?”

  “I’m serious. I read a book by a former CIA operative who landed his job by answering an advertisement for a graphic designer.” Paige shook her head, sending neatly coiffed blonde curls rolling over her slim shoulders. “It happens.”

  “I doubt the CIA is coming to Texas to recruit people to redecorate their offices in Washington—or wherever they’re based.”

  “What if they send you somewhere to spy on a suspected terrorist under the guise of designing a palace? Could you withstand the pressure?”

  “Why would they want to hire someone with a background in eco-friendly design if I was building a palace? Do you really think someone building a palace cares about sustainability?”

  “How are we to know what they’ll want?”

  Bailey barely contained a laugh. “Why would it only be a temporary gig? If the U.S. Government was going to take on the time and expense required to train an intelligence operative, don’t you think they’d want a multi-year commitment?”

  Paige’s eyes widened. “Not if they’re sending you on a suicide mission.”

  Sometimes there was no reasoning with her sister.

  “Mama thinks it’s a kidnappin’ scheme. She’s worried they’re going to load you up into a van and sell you as a sex slave.”

  Their mama really needed to lay off NCIS, Criminal Minds, and the long list of other crime shows filling her DVR.

  “Don’t worry.” Bailey patted her purse. “I always carry pepper spray.”

  Unimpressed, Paige rose to her feet, planting balled up fists on her hips. “Roger thinks you’ll be working on an Army base. And Nana thinks it’s a front for a reality show. I told them—”

  “You should have told them to relax.” Bailey reached out and pulled her sister in for a hug. “Which is exactly what I’m going to tell you to do right now.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing.” She squeezed tighter. “It’s all gonna be fine.”

  Want to keep reading?

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  Acknowledgments

  IT WOULD BE IMPOSSIBLE to thank every person who helped give The Marrying Type life, but here goes...

  Thank you Sarah Chapman and Whitney Lake for reading each draft of this novel and being my thought-partners. Your love, support, and encouragement for me and this story carried me through. This story would not be in your hands without the hard work and dedication of Brea Brown, Samantha March, Katie Nieland, and Chrissy Wolfe.

  Thank you to the wonderful National Novel Writing Month 2011 crew for inspiring and motivating me to write the first draft. Special shout-outs to former Lincoln-area municipal liaison Lisa Kovanda and my 2011 writing accountability partners Jacie Noel and Glenna Parks. Thanks also to Stephanie Gaughen and Aja Martin, for providing early feedback during the writing process, and Tracie Banister and Cat Lavoie, who served as beta readers for the final draft.

  As always, I am forever grateful to my family, friends, bloggers, writing groups, and you, the reader, for supporting me on this adventure.

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