Wedding colors? “Money green and stock-option black. Though I’m open to something more traditional, like Gold Trust Fund and Platinum Merger.”
First dance song? “Haven’t thought about it. ‘Gold Digger’ maybe? Or perhaps ‘Billionaire’ by Travie McCoy. If I’m feeling traditional, ‘Money, Money, Money’ by ABBA.”
Preferred cake flavor? “Whatever doesn’t clash with my future bride’s dress. Do cakes and dresses clash? Is that a thing wedding planners worry about? If so, chocolate. Dark, like my soul. But expensive, like my watch.”
My eye twitched as I flipped through his responses. They just got more and more inappropriate as I went through them. A vein pulsed in my forehead, but I forced myself to remain professional despite wanting to strangle him with his undoubtedly custom-made tie.
“This isn’t helpful,” I said finally, placing the questionnaire down.
“I thought I was quite thorough.” He leaned back in his chair, the picture of innocence. “Question twenty-three was particularly thought-provoking. I’ve never considered whether my wedding party should coordinate their underwear with the overall color scheme.”
“That’s not—” I stopped, narrowing my eyes. “That question isn’t on the form.”
“No?” He widened his eyes in mock confusion. “Must have been my own addition. I got carried away with the spirit of planning.”
Mari snorted from across the room, not even pretending not to eavesdrop. “I vote yes on coordinated underwear. And I volunteer to be on the underwear selection committee. As your wedding planner’s business partner, it’s practically my duty.”
“Mari!” I hissed.
“What? I’m being supportive.”
“You’re being inappropriate.”
“No, I’m being efficient,” she countered. “If we’re planning a wedding with a bride to be named later, someone has to think about these critical details.”
“Mr. Burkhardt,” I began, summoning what remained of my professionalism.
“I think we’re at the ‘Callan’ stage now, don’t you? Considering I’m about to pay you a million dollars to find me a wife.”
“I’m not finding you a wife,” I corrected through gritted teeth. “I’m planning a wedding. Your spouse acquisition is your own problem.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.” He leaned forward, suddenly all business. “The wedding and the bride are a package deal. I need both, within three months, to win the bet.”
“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”
“It was implied.”
“Nothing in wedding planning is implied, Mr. Burkhardt. That’s why I have a twelve-page questionnaire and contracts with more clauses than a Christmas movie marathon.”
He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Let me be explicit: I need your help finding a suitable bride as well as planning the wedding. Consider it... an extension of your existing services.”
“We’re wedding planners, not matchmakers.”
“But you have connections throughout the social scene. You know which society daughters are looking to settle down, which divorcées are back on the market, which career women might consider a strategic partnership.”
I stared at him, appalled. “You’re talking about women like they’re companies ripe for acquisition.”
“I’m talking about mutually beneficial arrangements between consenting adults. No different from the dozens of strategic marriages that happen in high society every year.” He shrugged. “Just with more honesty about the underlying motivations.”
“This is insane,” I muttered, but my mind was already racing despite myself. I did know several women who might consider Callan’s proposal, not that I’d ever admit it to him.
“Is it?” he challenged. “Or is it simply pragmatic? Marriage has been a business transaction for most of human history. I’m just removing the romantic delusions.”
“Clearly you’ve never been in love,” I shot back.
Something flickered across his face, so quickly I almost missed it. “Love is irrelevant to a successful partnership. Honestly, compatible sex partners seem to have more successful relationships than the average ‘love match’ marriage.”
“Yeah, well my ex-fiancé would probably agree with you,” I said before I could stop myself. “He found a more compatible ‘sex partner’ in a client, it would seem.”
