Evan cut into one of the deep-fried chicken cutlets that was wrapped around an herby butter. “Man, it’s a squirter,” he said, looking at me.
“The fish is halibut with a creamy lemon-caper sauce, lemon-braised fennel and fingerling potatoes, and charred Brussels sprouts.”
“This is all amazing!” Mika gushed to Elsie.
“It’s not fancy enough,” Imogen interjected.
“These are the best-quality ingredients,” Elsie assured her. “They’re all locally sourced. This is some of the best beef in the country, and we use heirloom chickens.”
“It looks like what everyone else had at their wedding. I want something different. I’m giving every one of my guests a corgi, after all,” Imogen said, turning up her nose.
Time to woman up and manage some expectations.
“I don’t think that we will be able to have a corgi for every guest,” I told her. “We could provide corgi-related gift items—”
Imogen slammed her water glass down on the table. It shattered, and water dripped on the floor.
“I will have corgis as my wedding. I will not have a basic wedding that everyone else has. Your company is supposed to be the hot new thing. Well, let me tell you, I am unimpressed. I’m going to make sure everyone knows how incompetent you are if you don’t deliver. Now when I say I want unique, I mean it. I want something better than what she brought here,” Imogen spat, jabbing her finger at Elsie. “I want my wedding to be talked about for years. I want people to have never seen anything like that. You need to revise the menu.”
I glanced at Elsie.
“Would you like more exotic ingredients?” she offered.
“Immie,” Teddy said, “I’m going moose hunting for my bachelor party. Elsie could serve what we shoot.”
“I’m not serving moose at my wedding!” the bride shrieked. “You’re making a mockery of me! This is my day, and you’re trying to ruin it! You are all trying to ruin it!”
“What if we did a tasting menu?” Mika suggested, nervously eating a crab cake. “That’s classy and different.”
“It’s also lengthy,” I stated. “Normally, tasting menus can be several hours long.”
“It’s my wedding, and if I want my guests to sit for hours for a tasting menu, then that’s what’s going to happen,” Imogen said, crossing her arms.
“We can do a shortened tasting menu,” Elsie suggested. “It can be more like tapas at each table.”
“No. I want it like Alinea, that fancy Chicago restaurant.”
Elsie was doing the calculations in her head. “That’s not what was originally budgeted.”
“Evan, pay for it and make it happen,” Imogen ordered. “God, Ivy, you’re such a nag and so incompetent. First, the invitations were wrong, then the dress, then you refuse to get my corgis for party favors, now you’re trying to ruin my reception.”
“I’m just trying to make sure that it’s a wonderful event for you and the guests,” I assured her.
“I don’t care about the guests!”
“Obviously,” Evan scoffed.
“Shut up!”
Evan glared at her. Mika ate a mini lobster roll in one bite then hastily grabbed another. I highly sympathized with her. My go-to stress relief was eating too.
“You need to act more grateful,” Imogen hissed at Evan. “Your mom left you and your sister, and my mom took care of you. You owe us.”
Evan stood up, face a cold mask. Mika darted between her siblings.
“Immie, let’s go have a drink, okay? Evan’s going to pay for the upgraded menu, and Elsie will make it tasty.”
“And Instagram worthy,” Imogen added.
