by Fiona Starr
Something Blue
A Wedding Season Series
Fiona Starr
Steamy Starr Stories
Something Blue, A Wedding Season Series
Copyright © 2019 by Fiona Starr
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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For anyone out there wishing and hoping… I hope you find your happily ever after.
xoxo
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
More Wedding Season Short Stories…
About Fiona Starr
The Blaze Family Romance Collection
The Flirt Club!
OLIVIA
“Oh, my god I am so jealous!” My roommate, Beth, rifles through my closet pulling dresses and wraps from the rack, and assembling potential outfits for me to pack. “I wish I was going to Bermuda. And to a private island? I mean, you have the best job, Liv.”
I lift a necklace and matching earrings from my jewelry box and place them on the dress she’s laid out on my bed. “Yeah, but it’s more work than play. Weddings are stressful enough when they’re local, but destination weddings… forget about it.” I head back to my dresser for different earrings.
She shakes her head. “Uh, I’m sorry, no. It’s Bermuda. It’s super posh. It’s a private-freaking-island. I won’t allow any complaints.”
I laugh. “Deal. But I wasn’t really complaining, just trying to make you feel a little less jealous.”
I try scoot out of the way but she’s faster and punches my arm. “See! You’re the best. And I don’t care what you say, you really do have the best job. I am totally hiring you to plan my wedding. Wait. Can you be the planner and also be in the wedding?”
I arch a curious brow at her. “Back up. Are you and Rex making plans I should know about?”
She plops onto my bed. “I wish. But I am starting to get the itch, you know? I mean, I feel like a cliché, but I think he’s the one.” She whispers that last bit as if he were secretly hiding in the apartment and might overhear.
Rex and Beth have been dating for almost two years and they are the epitome of compatible. “Aw, Beth! That’s really great. How does he feel? Has he hinted at anything?”
She shrugs and lays another dress out for our inspection. “I think he’s on the same page. We haven’t talked about it, but last month we were at Angie and Sophie’s wedding, and when they were saying their vows Rex held my hand and pulled me close, like in a meaningful way, you know?”
I smile as I remember that wedding. Bryony planned it—which meant I could attend as a guest—and it was perfect. “Their vows were pretty spectacular.”
“Right?” She sighs. “I don’t know. I think I need to stop dwelling on it. I don’t want to get bummed out.”
I take the latest dress off the bed and put it next to my garment bag. “You know, you could ask him… why does it always have to be the guy who proposes?”
Beth thinks about that for a moment. “I don’t know. I think there is a part of me that’s super old fashioned. I want Rex to ask. I want him to ask my dad first… maybe I’m being dumb. It all seems so fussy when I think about it, but…” She sighs.
“Yeah, I know.” Weddings are fussy. They’re supposed to be. It’s a big day, and I think it’s important to make a fuss.
She folds a tee shirt and tucks in into my bag. “What about you? You’re such a sucker for the perfect wedding, don’t you see yourself walking down the aisle one day?”
Her question sends a zing of panic through me. She doesn’t know about my history with Jesse and our wedding from hell; nobody here in St. Louis does—except my business partner, Bryony.
How pathetic would it be if people knew that one of the city’s most popular wedding planners was once left at the altar? Yeah, that’s not something I share when I’m taking on excited new brides and grooms as clients.
You’d think that being a wedding planner would be a constant reminder of my own failed wedding, but the opposite is true. Despite my own horrible history, I still love weddings. I dream about planning perfect ones. I love helping brides make their magical day perfect. I love seeing couples in love tie the knot. I swoon over meeting grooms who are as eager for their big day as their fiancées. All of it serves to push the memories of my own wedding back where they belong: in the past.
But my current client, and this destination wedding has brought it all back. Heather was part of the old crowd—the group Jesse and I used to hang with back home. I am sure she remembers my wedding day—it’s one of those things that sticks with you, trust me—but she’s been great and hasn’t mentioned it once.
Many of the guests are old friends, though I haven’t seen any of them since my wedding. I checked the list twice—Jesse won’t be there; he wasn’t invited, and Heather mentioned something in passing about losing touch with him.
After leaving me at the altar, he ran away instead of facing everyone. Not that I blame him; it’s exactly what I did.
I spent my non-wedding day getting wasted on the booze that was purchased to celebrate with everyone we knew, then I had a pity party for a few days before I got on a plane to St. Louis and showed up at Bryony’s doorstep, grateful that one of my oldest friends was willing to take me in and help me get back on my feet.
The memories come flooding back despite my best efforts to ignore them.
It should have been the perfect wedding—everything was planned from the music, to the readings, to the flowers adorning the church pews, all the way down to the embossed hand towels in the restrooms at the reception venue.
My entire family was there—which is no small feat for us Blazes. My four sisters, all my aunts, uncles, and cousins, my friends, and all the kids were present and excited. Even my cousin, Elias, who never shows up for family events anymore made a point of being there for me. It should have been the perfect day.
My dad hooked my arm around his and we entered the church. When we stepped into the vestibule, the wedding party was lined up at the altar, but there was something wrong. Jesse wasn’t standing at the front with the rest of the groomsmen. Several people were craning their necks to look across to the left, to a side entrance up near the front of the pews.
Our best man, Luke, hurried down the aisle toward me with a look on his face that I couldn’t read, but it was obvious he was trying hard to hold it together. I smiled and clutched my dad’s arm, praying Luke was worried over nothing—like maybe Jesse forgot his shoes or they lost the rings or something we could manage.
“Luke? What’s happening? Where’s Jesse?” I whispered.
“David’s gone after him. I am so sorry, Olivia. I knew he was nervous, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”
“Didn’t think what was this bad?” I asked. I handed my dad my flowers and pulled Luke into an alcove next to a baptismal fountain.
Luke touched my shoulder and looked at me with tenderness. “Liv. I am so sorry. Jesse’s changed his mind. He’s gone.”
His words hit me like a slap. “Gone? Like gone? Today?”
“I know. I am so sorry. I didn’t think he’d leav
e you. Not like this.”
There are some situations that go beyond anything anyone could possibly prepare for. I am a planner. I plan everything. But when Jesse left me at the altar, all the details that were supposed to come next turned to ash and got carried off on the breeze.
I don’t remember walking to the front of the church to tell everyone the wedding was off and that they should all join us at the reception anyway. I don’t remember my voice being steady as I swallowed my humiliation and addressed the gathering of people who loved me and Jesse. I don’t remember asking my dad to make sure mom didn’t cry. I don’t remember the drive to the reception, the drinking, the tears with my family and friends as my wedding celebration turned into a fuck-you Jesse party.
There is only one thing I remember with clarity. The one moment of that day that I can recall with perfect detail was Luke’s face as he told me the news. “Jesse’s changed his mind. He’s gone.” It was a look of absolute torture. Luke didn’t want to tell me. He didn’t want to be the one. And not because it was awkward or anything, but because he knew how much it would hurt me.
Jesse Grayson broke my heart. But he didn’t break me, and while I don’t think I’ll ever walk down the aisle again—I’m strong but I am not that strong—there is nothing that is going to stop me from making weddings special for every bride I can.
“This is perfect.” I shake off the memory and lift the latest dress off my bed. Beth’s got the jewelry to go with it and we walk over to my waiting suitcase and tuck everything inside.
Beth hangs my garment bag from the door and sighs. “You really do have the best job.”
LUKE
“I am so, so sorry to do this to you last minute, but I am just so sick. It might be the flu. It might be pneumonia. Oh my god, I could be dying.” My event coordinator sounds miserable through the phone, but it’s just the same awful head cold the staff has been passing to each other all month long.
“Ginny. You’re not a superwoman. Even you can get sick. Don’t worry about it. Take however long you need. We’ll manage.”
“But the Pearson-Greene wedding is the day after tomorrow and then we have the Hubbard’s fiftieth anniversary party on Sunday afternoon, and the new caterer is coming this week and I need to go over the plans for the Dixon party on Fri—”
“Everything is covered, Ginny. Katie is managing the food, Michael is on top of the florist, I called Guy and he and Tomas are managing the wait staff. It’s going to be all right.”
“But the planner needs to be present at the wedding, Luke. Everything needs to be perfect.”
“And that’s why you’re the best. I am going to cover the Pearson-Greene wedding. Maurice has been working with you on this since the start. He will be with me. Besides, Heather Pearson is an old friend.”
“That puts more pressure on us, not less, Luke.”
I laugh. “That’s true. But seriously, you need to rest, and let us take care of things here for a change. The quicker you get better, the sooner you’ll be back.”
She sighs and I know she’s given in. “All right. But I am not happy about this.”
“I know.”
“OK. A few more things and then I’ll go. The Pearson group arrives tonight. They have arranged for their own transportation from the airport to the resort, and I’ve booked an excursion for most of them tomorrow morning. Their wedding planner is arriving with them and I have a meeting with her scheduled in the morning at my office.”
“Right. I have it in your notes right here.”
“The Hubbards arrive first thing and will need the shuttle to the resort at six in the morning. And the Dixon’s…”
“I have all of your notes in your event book, Ginny. Please, don’t worry.”
“I know. Sorry. I just… I am a control freak, in case you didn’t know.”
“Ah, there’s where you’re wrong. You think you’re a control freak but I see that you have an impeccable eye for detail and you just want everything to be perfect.”
“Aw, you’re too good to me, Boss.” I can hear her smile through the phone.
“Your crew is on top of everything. They know all of your plans and they are making sure I have everything I need. It is all handled. You’ve taught them well, and I happen to own the place so I think they will listen to me.”
She laughs and it makes her voice sound hoarse. “All right. But if you need anything—anything at all—you call me. All right? Promise me.”
“I promise, Ginny. We will call if we have any questions.”
I end our call and grab Ginny’s event books. She has one master calendar book I’ve been scouring since she called in sick this morning, and then a separate binder for each event. Between me and Maurice, we’ve split up six books to cover the week’s events. Luckily, we only have two big things for the coming weekend. I’ve got the Pearson-Greene wedding and Maurice is covering the Hubbard’s anniversary party. Tomas and Guy are all over the Dixon party.
I sit at my desk and flip open the Pearson-Greene wedding book. I haven’t seen Heather Pearson in years. I don’t know the guy she’s marrying—Steven Greene—but I am more interested in the guest list. I flip to the proper tab labeled in Ginny’s neat handwriting and move my finger down the alphabetical list.
There are so many old friends on the list, I find myself smiling at all the memories flooding through. There’s one name I don’t find and I can’t ignore my disappointment.
Olivia Blaze isn’t listed among the guests. I run through the list again, looking for her first name with a different last name. She hadn’t gotten married last I’d heard, but you never know. I check it again and I am sure. There are no Olivias on the guest list at all.
Heather and Olivia were always such good friends that it’s a surprise that she isn’t coming, but then again, Olivia kind of dropped out of our group after what happened with Jesse.
I flip back through the binder to the section that holds the details for Ginny’s meeting tomorrow with Heather’s wedding planner and stare at the page. Right there, written in block print at the top are two words in the space allotted for the planner’s name: Olivia Blaze.
Her face fills my mind as my mouth goes dry. Her green eyes and the sprinkle of freckles across her cheeks bring on a longing inside me that I have not let myself feel in years. And her smile… she has the sweetest smile.
But the last time I saw Olivia Blaze, she wasn’t smiling. She’d been dressed for her wedding and I had to explain how the man she was planning to marry left her on their wedding day.
Jesse and I had talked for hours the night before. He’d come to my apartment after a late night out with the guys—a second and final bachelor party of sorts with just a handful of our closest buddies. I had grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge and came back to the living room to find Jesse with his head in his hands.
“I don’t know if I can go through with it.” His words were loud in the quiet apartment, and totally unexpected.
I dropped onto the couch and stared at my best friend for a second, then realized what was happening. “The wedding is tomorrow, man. It’s just cold feet.”
Jesse ran his hands through his dark hair. He wouldn’t look at me. “No. I don’t think so. I’m not sure about this anymore. I think I am making a mistake.”
“What the fuck, Jesse? You’re not sure? How is that even possible? Olivia is fantastic. She’s…” I had to stop myself. Olivia was fantastic and smart and amazing and beautiful, and so much more, but she loved him, and there was nothing I could do about that. I couldn’t let my own feelings about my best friend’s girl show. Not now, not ever.
“I know she is. She’s perfect, but something doesn’t feel right.” He looked up then and I saw the truth in his eyes.
“Oh man, you’re serious.” I could tell he was miserable.
“Fuck!” He stood up and started pacing the floor. “The wedding is in less than twelve hours. I am supposed to be happy. But it feels like I am tied to
the tracks and there is no way to stop the freight train coming at me. You have to help me, man. I don’t know what to do.”
All I could think about was Olivia. Sure, my friend was a mess at the moment, but Olivia… this would crush her. I would do anything in my power to protect her from being hurt, but this… how could I protect her from this?
“If you’re not sure, you need to tell Olivia, like right now.” I pulled out my phone. “Call her and ask her to meet you. I’ll go with you if you want. She deserves to know.” I struggled to keep the intensity from my voice. “Jesse. We’re talking about Olivia. She doesn’t deserve this. If you don’t love her, you have to call it off before it’s too late.”
“I do love her. Jesus, whose side are you on?”
“Sides? There are no sides here, man. Come on, Jesse. You’re my best friend. You’re like a brother to me. But we all love Olivia, too.”
He popped the cap on the water bottle and took a swig. Then he leaned back and sat there with his eyes closed, as if lost in thought. “Maybe you’re right.”
“About which part?”
“I think I’m just nervous.”
Relief mingled with a twinge of regret in that moment and I realized that a part of me wanted him to call it off. A part of me saw a glimmer of hope that if he broke up with her perhaps there would be a chance…
I’ve loved Olivia Blaze since Jesse met her years ago. From the moment she came into his life there has been nobody else that even kind of lit a spark inside me. It always felt disloyal thinking about her in that way. They were in love. She picked him, but I’ve never let go of that torch I’ve carried for her.
Jesse and I hung out the rest of the night and talked until we were both convinced that he was just nervous about the wedding and the ‘forever’ part. He crashed on my couch and I set the alarm to make sure I got him home in time to get ready for his big day.
