Read Three Girls And A Wedding Online

Authors: Rachel Schurig

Three Girls And A Wedding (3 page)

Annie was waiting for me at a table
in Café Jade—with two full glasses of red wine. “Hey,” she welcomed me,
raising her glass. “Thanks for meeting me. This day is murder.”

“What’s going on?” I asked,
shrugging out of my coat and sitting across from her.

“We have a grant renewal coming
up,” she sighed. “I’ve been trying to put together our proposal.” Annie hated
anything office-related, almost as much as she hated having to schmooze for
money. But the non-profit theater was terminally low on funding and it fell to
Annie to try and make up for it.

“Sorry,” I told her. “That’s
rough.”

“I’ll be happier when the new term
starts and I spend more time with the kids.” She took a big gulp of her wine.
“Anyways, how’s your day?”

“Pretty good, actually.” I told her
about the new account and she was suitably impressed.

“Sounds pretty awesome. Congrats,
hon.”

The waitress came by to take our
orders. I could feel myself start to relax, start to feel the omnipresent
stress of the office melt away

“Hey,
wanna
go to movies or something tonight?” Annie asked.

“Can’t; I’m
gonna
be working on this client proposal all night.”

“Damn,” she said, making a face at
her wine glass.

“Why? What’s up?”

“Josh is coming over.”

“Jesus, Annie,” I muttered, taking
a long drink of wine. “When are you going to drop it?”

“I can’t stand him, Jen,” she said
firmly. “And I can’t stand that she took him back just like that.”

I sighed. Annie and I’d had this
conversation many times before.

Josh and Ginny’s breakup had been
pretty bad, for both of them. After they hooked up, when it became clear that
he still didn’t want to get back together, Ginny had asked Josh to give her
some space, to leave her alone for a while so she could try to get over him. He
had taken her directive a bit too far—he changed his phone number, moved,
and didn’t contact her for nearly a year.

Of course, this was the same time
that Ginny was finding out about the baby. She tried to contact Josh to no
avail. To make matters much worse, Josh’s mother found out about the baby and
did everything she could to keep Josh away, going so far as to tell Gin that he
knew about the baby but didn’t want anything to do with it.

It was a terrible situation. Ginny
was heartbroken and Annie and I both were terrified for our friend. We weren’t
sure if she would be strong enough to get through it, strong enough to actually
have and raise the baby. But she did—in fact, she completely changed her
entire life. It’s almost like she’s a new person—or rather, she’s still
Ginny, only better. She’s much stronger now, much more happy with herself and
less likely to rely on a man for anything, the way she used to. She even
managed to get an awesome new job managing a bookstore, a huge step up from the
nannying
gigs she used to settle for.

And when Josh came back, when it
became clear that he had never known about the baby, Ginny was able to forgive
him. She had never stopped loving him, and it was pretty clear that he had
never gotten over her either.

“She forgave him, Annie,” I said
patiently. “So much of it was misunderstanding. And she loves him. She always
loved him.”

“I don’t care what his mom did, or
what he misunderstood,” Annie said flatly. “He slept with her and then didn’t
talk to her again for ten months. That’s what we call an asshole.”

“It doesn’t matter what we think,
Annie,” I said, starting to get a little irritated now. “He’s Danny’s father,
he’s in her life, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No, Ann. It doesn’t
matter
. All you’re doing by treating him
like this is hurting Ginny. You’re driving her nuts. You have to let it go.”

She stared sullenly at her napkin.

“She loves him, Ann.”

“Fine,” she sighed dramatically.
“I’ll try to be…civil. That’s the best I can promise.”

“Good girl.” I smiled at her. She,
predictably, flipped me off.

The waitress brought over our food
and I decided to bring the conversation back to safer waters. “Okay. So you’re
never going to believe what the bride-to-be’s name is.”

Annie scrunched up her nose,
thinking hard. “Rich girl, right?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Hmm…Candy?”

I shook my head.

“Astrid? Blair?”

“Nope. Give up?”

Annie nodded and I leaned in closer
to her. “Kiki. Kiki Barker.”

A huge grin spread over Annie’s
face and she sighed. “That is just too, too good.”

 

 

Chapter Four

 

‘When you begin to
plan your wedding, one of the first things you will want to think about is the
overall feeling you want to convey. In other words, what is your theme? What
kind of wedding have you always dreamed of? Will it be elegant? Romantic? Do you
want to incorporate nature? Music? Is there some hobby or passion you share
with your hubby-to-be that you’d like to base your day around? Don’t be afraid
to get creative with your theme. The only rule is this: it should reflect you
and your fiancé and the relationship you’ve developed!’

The
Bride’s Guide to a Fabulous Wedding

 

“You nearly ready?”

I looked up from my desk, where I
was hurriedly shoving files into my briefcase, to see Jason standing in the
doorway to my office. I suppressed a grimace at the sight of him. It was
Wednesday, half an hour before we were due to meet our client, and I was not
looking forward to spending the evening with Jason.

“Just about.”

Jason looked down at his watch with
raised eyebrows. God, I hated him.

I finished packing my case and
stood, straightening my skirt. “All set.”

Jason looked me over appraisingly
in a way that made me want to slap him. “Do I meet your standards?” I asked
icily. I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but I just couldn’t help myself.
Jason was so condescending—it practically oozed off of him.

“But of course, Jennifer,” he said,
clearly amused.

“Well, let’s go then,” I mumbled,
somewhat embarrassed. It was clear he was laughing at me.

“After you.”

I walked ahead of Jason into the
hallway, completely dreading the next few hours.

“Where are we meeting them?” I
asked when we reached the elevator.

“Coach Insignia, at the
RenCen
.”

“Nice,” I murmured in spite of
myself. The view from the top of the Renaissance Center over the river to
Canada was second to none.

“Nothing but the best,” Jason said,
busying himself with his Blackberry as the elevator descended.

I closed my eyes briefly, thinking
of the girls. They should both be home from work now. Ginny was probably
feeding Danny, or maybe they were settling down in front of the TV. I wished I
was there with them. The thought of meeting scary important people, trying to
be impressive, made my stomach clench slightly. I wasn’t quite as comfortable
with the high- rolling life as I might like people to believe.

“Listen, Jennifer,” Jason began,
but the elevator had reached the lobby and the doors were opening with a ding.
“After you,” he said again, motioning me forward.

We walked briskly through the
nearly empty lobby and out the front door. There was a black sedan, our hired
car, waiting for us just outside the main entrance. To my surprise, Jason held
my door open for me and waited for me to sit before shutting it and walking
around to the other side.

Once we were settled and the car
was pulling away from the curb, he turned to face me.

“As I was saying,” he started
again. “This meeting is very important. We’ve never worked together before, so
I just wanted to touch base about our respective…styles.”

I looked at him evenly, unsure of
what he was getting at.

“These are powerful people,
Jennifer. Very powerful. It is imperative that we make them feel like the
center of our world. No request from them is too big. If they need it, if they
want
it, they get it, no questions
asked.”

“Are you under the impression that I
don’t know how to please clients?”

Jason shrugged. “You seem to have a
tendency—a need—to insert your opinion, to state your case. I’ve
noticed that around the office. You put a lot of yourself into your work. That
may all be well and good in the little parties you’ve planned up until now, but
it doesn’t fly on my account. I demand professionalism at all times.”

I felt my cheeks flush. The
bastard!

“I can assure you, the client is my
only priority.” My voice was steely, cold, and I was proud of myself that it
betrayed no wobble, no sign of the emotion I was feeling. I was getting better
at this.

There was a time when a criticism
like that would have sent me reeling. A time when any question on my ability or
professionalism would have resulted in my tears. A time when I was weak.

But that was ages ago. Things had
changed.
I
had changed. And there was
no way I was going to let Jason fucking Richardson see through me.

“Good,” he said simply, spreading
his hands wide. “Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page, Jennifer.”
He turned his attention back to his Blackberry.

“Oh, and Jason?” I said, my voice
sickly sweet. He looked up at me. “It’s Jen. Please try to remember that.”

 

***

 

We arrived at the restaurant ahead
of the client. I took that as a good sign; you never wanted to keep these
people waiting. We were shown to a private booth overlooking the glass outer
wall. You could see Canada from here—it was gorgeous.

“I’ll take the lead on this,” Jason
said, pulling a leather-bound file from his case. “But I will be asking for
your input.”

I nodded, starting to feel a little
nervous.

“This is going to go great, Jen,”
Jason said softly. I looked up at him, surprised—his words were as close
to kind and supportive as I had ever heard this guy get. Jason was looking at
me, a relaxed, confident expression on his face.

Before I could answer, the waiter
reappeared. Next to him stood a short blond girl. Her face was pretty, her
smile so large it seemed in danger of stretching right off her cheeks. Behind
her was a tall man, also blond, a very all-American football type.

Jason and I immediately stood,
smiling to greet our guests, snapping into schmooze mode faster than you could
say “commission”.

“Kiki! Eric! It’s so wonderful to
see you again!” To see Jason’s face you would assume the two people before him
were his closest friends.

He stepped forward to kiss Kiki’s
cheek. “You look lovely tonight, dear, absolutely lovely.” He turned his
attention to the man behind her. “Eric, great to see you, man.” He reached out
to shake his hand.

I couldn’t help but feel impressed,
watching Jason in action. His face was completely alight, his voice
enthusiastic without being over the top. There was a slight change in his
inflection when he addressed the two of them—with Kiki he was charming,
almost flirtatious, but when he directed his attention to Eric, he immediately,
almost imperceptibly, transitioned into guy’s guy mode.
 
He certainly wasn’t messing around here.

“Let me introduce you to Jen
Campbell,” he said warmly, gesturing toward me. “She’s going to be working with
us. You’ll love her, she’s absolutely wonderful.”

I knew he was playing to the client
and ordered myself not to feel flattered. Instead, I plastered a huge smile on
my face and shook hands with the couple.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” I
gushed.

“Oh Jen,” Kiki breathed, squeezing
my hand and leaning close to me. “I’m so happy to have another girl on the
team. Oh, this is going to be so much fun! Just you wait, the two of us are
going to be the best of friends!”

I managed to not roll my eyes at
this over the top ridiculousness. Instead I kept my smile plastered firmly on
and squeezed her hand right back.

“Let’s sit,” Jason said, gesturing
for Kiki and Eric to take their seats. “We have so much to talk about!”

“Mom and Daddy are going to be
joining us later for coffee,” Kiki said happily as Eric pushed her chair in for
her. “They had an early dinner to attend, but they’re so totally excited to
meet you guys.”

I felt a flash of fear at the idea
of meeting David Barker so early in the process, but I pushed it down. This was
the world in which I worked, and I wasn’t about to let anyone see how much I
didn’t really belong.

I took mental notes on the couple
before me as we made small talk and perused the menu. I knew from experience
that the definitive deciding factor in our success was getting a feel for the
bride and groom and forming a relationship with them. Eric
 
seemed amiable to me, but quiet. More
than likely he had accepted by now the inevitability that he would be completely
overshadowed by the hurricane force that was his fiancée.

Kiki was the most energetic, happy,
excited human being I had ever come across. I had a feeling her sweetness was
genuine; despite her massive wealth I detected no note of snobbishness in her
demeanor. She talked a mile a minute, her voice just short of being annoyingly
high-pitched. She used her entire body: she threw her hands around with
abandon, leaning forward to make her point, turning her body in the direction
of the person she was addressing. After ten minutes, I was completely
exhausted.

We drank white wine, ate
prosciutto, and discussed, in detail, Kiki’s vision for the wedding.

She wanted a fairy theme. I kid you
not. Fairies. For a twenty-four-year-old.

In Kiki’s mind, the fairy theme
encompassed a vast array of seemingly disparate ideas. She wanted crystals on
just about everything, and feathers on everything else. She thought a posh
night club area would be “so completely, totally, awesome” for the cocktail
hour. She wanted all the females in the wedding party to wear tiaras and
thought it would be “super great” if the guys wore top hats (Eric perked up a
little at this, shaking his head in what I could only assume was mute horror).

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