Shit. I needed not to picture that while standing in the middle of a public restaurant.
“You—” she started again, but the door opened.
We both snapped to attention, professional masks with too-wide smiles sliding into place.
Manny Kussikov entered first. He was shorter than I expected, and his fiancée, director Lia Martin, was a few inches taller than him. She followed with a smile on her face.
“Mr. Gable,” Manny nodded to me, then turned to Mari. “Ms. Landry. Thank you for coming.”
“We hope you don’t mind the joint meeting,” Lia added.
“Not at all,” I replied, catching Mari’s slight eye-roll in my peripheral vision.
“Actually,” Mari countered, her professional voice considerablyless profane than her normal register, “I’m curious why you’d schedule two wedding planners for the same meeting slot.”
“It’s more efficient like this,” Lia said, taking a seat at the head of the table. “Please sit.”
I finally lowered myself into a chair, maintaining perfect posture while Mari leaned back in her chair across from me.
Mari’s portfolio continued its invasion of my space. I reached across to straighten it, earning a glare.
“Touch my stuff again and you’ll pull back a stump,” she whispered, her smile never faltering for the clients.
“Your stuff is contaminating the presentation space,” I whispered back.
“Your face is contaminating the presentation space.”
“Is that really the best you can?—”
“So,” Lia interrupted, “I assume you’re wondering why we’ve invited you both here today.”
“I assume it was to talk weddings, so let’s talk weddings.” Mari launched into her pitch without being asked. “Knot Your Average Wedding specializes in creating emotionally resonant events that tell your love story through immersive, authentic experiences.”
“Perfect Day Planning brings precision and excellence to every detail,” I countered, “ensuring a flawless experience with nearly perfect client satisfaction and minimal errors.”
Manny and Lia exchanged a look that made me uneasy. Something wasn’t right.
“Yes, we’ve researched both of your companies extensively,” Lia said, reaching for her phone. “But what really caught our attention was this.”
She slid it across the table, showing a video that made my stomach drop.
There we were at the wedding expo, locked in a wrestling match. The video was taken after Mari had knocked over the candle, my backdrop had ignited, and both of us had been doused by the sprinkler system. It showed the aftermath; both of us covered in soot, golden glitter, and water. I had her in a headlock, and she was trying to bite me. Again.
The view counter showed 12.7 million.
“You’ve gone viral,” Manny said. “The Wedding Planners War, they’re calling it.”
Mari looked like she might vomit, which would have been unfortunate for my suit positioned in the likely trajectory. I maintained my neutral expression.
“I can explain,” Mari began, her voice uncharacteristically small.
“We don’t want explanations,” Lia interrupted. “We want exactly what we’re seeing in this video.”
I blinked, unable to process this response. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Passion. Intensity. Creative friction,” Manny clarified, leaning forward.
“Our wedding isn’t just a personal celebration,” Lia continued, her hands sketching a frame in the air as if visualizing a shot. “It’s also a professional statement. The event will be featured in multiple publications and spread across social media.”
