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We worked flat out for the next couple of hours until tires crunched on the gravel out front. They were here!
“Isla, can you tell Cruz we’ll need the first lot of canapés in twenty minutes?”
She nodded and glided away.
Amory raced over, her face shining with happiness. Outside, car doors shut with a bang and high-pitched chatter filled the air. This was always the best part of an event, the moment all of our hard work came together, and our guests arrived, wide-eyed with awe.
Our brides entered the lobby, wearing big smiles. Amory and I stood next to each other and shook their hands one by one. We went into wedding and event planner mode, and spent time greeting each bride, handing out name-tags to ensure everyone felt at home and important, before Isla ushered them into the ballroom where they let out gasps of delight at the wedding beauty displayed before them.
Suave Micah appeared carrying a tray of canapés. He winked and strode into the ballroom, but not before we snagged a Moroccan lamb cigar, a crispy deep-fried morsel of perfection. Discreetly wiping crumbs away, I said, “Wow, that guy can cook.”
Amory raised a brow. “Wait until you try his South American dishes.”
Would I get to try them? Maybe he’d stay around for a while. I did need help for Christmas Eve and the fancy dinner party I envisaged hosting for my friends. Not to mention the guests who’d booked in after New Year…
“What’s my lipstick like? No crumbs stuck to me?”
“Fine, fine. And mine?” Usually we stayed well away from the food at our parties, but being the boss had its advantages. We were merely doing quality control, right?
“Let’s mingle.”
Moving with the group of brides, we took them from table to table, highlighting the ways in which their weddings could be spectacular and, more importantly, unique to them if only they held them here.
One of the more outspoken of the brides, a Texan named Barbie, grabbed my arm and ushered me to one side. “How quickly can you get a wedding organized?” With her bouffant blonde curls and twangy accent she was impossible to miss. Even lowering her voice, she drew the eye of the other brides.
“How quickly do you need it?” I wasn’t going to shoot myself in the foot by saying a timeframe that didn’t suit. I needed a booking, and just hoped the approval for the chapel came through in time.
Noticing she was being watched, she bundled me further away, and whispered. “Is January too soon? February at a push?”
It was December! When would we get a client who wasn’t in a hurry? What if the chapel approval took six months? Amory must have overhead, as she gave me a desperate look and mouthed say yes! Wasn’t that my own advice – say yes, always? Worry about the finer details later?
I managed a jittery smile. “Sure, we can do it for February, as long as you choose local suppliers as much as possible.”
She patted her belly. “Time is of the essence, you see.”
Ah! “There’s something very special about the fact your baby will attend your wedding, whether anyone knows or not.”
She gave me a genuine smile, one that reached her eyes. “I hadn’t thought about it like that before. The jellybean will be our guest of honor, and you’ll be one of the few who knows about him or her…”
“Did you have any themes in mind? Color combinations…”
“Vintage grandeur. Think Gatsby. The jazz age. That kind of thing.”
I wanted to shriek! Vintage grandeur would suit the lodge and show it off in its best light. Did I risk taking the booking without approval? She hadn’t confirmed yet, she’d only enquired about timeframes, so instead I focused on making her fall in love with the lodge. I waved Isla over. “Would you like to see the chapel? It has the most glorious stained-glass windows, and we can decorate it to suit the jazz era…”
“I’d love to,” she said, and I made introductions and asked Isla to take Barbie on a tour. “Don’t forget to visit the honeymoon suite,” I said. “It’s spectacular.”
Another bride walked over exclaiming about the canapés. “Is this the same chef you’ll use if we book Cedarwood as a venue? Please say yes!”
Amory answered: “Yes, Cruz can be requested, definitely.”
I held my breath. She hadn’t asked him, and surely this bride would insist on knowing it was in fact Cruz in the kitchen on her wedding day.
Just then, Cruz walked in carrying a plate of sweet canapés. “Let me introduce you?” Amory gave her a saccharine smile. “Cruz, this is Ebony, she’s enquired whether you’ll be the chef if she hires Cedarwood for her nuptials.”
Without missing a beat, Cruz nodded. “That can easily be arranged.”
They were totally on the same wavelength, and interpreted what the right answer would be. My heart just about exploded that they’d say yes, knowing it would help sway her decision. We’d worry about the practicalities of it later. Worry later, Clio! Smile and schmooze and do your job!
“Great,” she said, beaming. “Let’s talk dates.”
Amory said, “Follow me, Ebony. Can I get you a glass of champagne while we chat?”
Two potential bookings! I wanted to jump for joy until I remembered the damn approval certification. I needed Kai and I needed him here fast.
At the florist’s table, a trio of women stood chatting away, exclaiming over prices. I’d told the vendors to be vague about pricing, because we’d try to do the weddings as a package deal, but if they pushed for it, then to do their best to wow the brides with the quality of their products. The raven-haired beauty said, “I’m not sure it’s worth all that! What are they, exotic blooms shipped from Amsterdam?” Her friends tittered behind their hands. I frowned and hoped the florist wasn’t offended. His flowers were first-rate and worth every penny.
A twenty-something girl dithered alone, clutching her champagne glass so tight I thought she might break it. “Hello, Felicity,” I said, reading her name badge. “Can I introduce you to my aunt who makes the most delicious donuts you’ll ever taste?”
Felicity shot me a grateful smile and nodded. “Thank you, I’m a little out of my comfort zone here. Makes me wonder how I’ll have the courage to walk down the aisle. Right now, eloping seems like a better idea.” The apples of her cheeks were pink with nerves.
I took her by the elbow, and led her to Aunt Bessie. “Eloping is cute,” I said. “But what about your family? Wouldn’t they miss seeing you marry the love of your life?” I understood her nerves. Many brides felt the same way, until they’d done it. Then they wanted to do it over and over again. Once they started the slow walk down the aisle, time stopped, and all they could see was the person waiting at the other end for them, the one who loved them above all else, and was about to promise to love them for eternity.
“Yeah,” Felicity admitted. “My mom would never forgive me. But she’s one of those social types, and I’m more of an introvert.”
“The good thing about location weddings,” I said, “is that they can be intimate. You’ve always got that excuse to keep your party to a minimum. Keep it small, with only the people you feel totally comfortable around.”
Her eyes brightened. “I guess you’re right. Does that mean I can leave his mom off the invite list?”
I giggled. “Monster-in-law?”
“Times ten. She’s a nightmare! I think that’s half the problem, that I’ll be worrying about what she’s thinking about my dress, my hair, the way I’m walking. She intimidates me.”