Elsie raised an eyebrow.
“But he doesn’t want anything to do with me, so it’s not going to happen, and that’s that.”
“I highly doubt he doesn’t want to exercise his husbandly duties,” she remarked.
“Why do you have to make it sound so dirty?” I complained.
“Because it’s going to be hot and dirty and nasty with him!” Brea said loudly.
“We don’t have time for Grace to spend all day having hot and dirty sex,” Ivy said, frazzled. “We have a bridezilla incoming!”
We all scurried to put on tea, have sparkling water chilled and ready, and to artfully lay out our samples and several scrapbooks of other weddings for the bride to peruse.
The bridezilla arrived wearing a big fur coat, designer sunglasses, and four-inch stilettos. Linneah trailed after her.
“Good morning!” Ivy said cheerfully.
Addison didn’t return the greeting. Instead she shoved her designer bag at me when she walked in.
“Take care of this.”
I set it gingerly on a chair.
“Welcome to the Weddings in the City office,” Ivy said. “Can we offer you tea or water?”
“My maid of honor knows what I want to drink,” Addison said, taking a seat and looking critically at the samples on the table. “Make sure you coordinate with Linneah and have my beverage of preference ready next time.”
“Addison only drinks Perrier with a Meyer lemon peel,” Linneah said. “Make sure you provide it in the future.”
Ivy smiled. “Of course.”
After dealing with an entitled billionaire for the last twenty-four hours, I was in no mood to put up with a bridezilla, but these brides were my livelihood.
Because my part of the wedding wouldn’t come up until later, I let Ivy take the lead as she walked Addison through the wedding planning process while I went to the kitchenette to make more tea for everyone.
Linneah jumped up to follow me.
“I can’t believe Chris is saddled with someone like you,” she said in a low voice as I put the water on to boil. “You’re just the help.”
I forced myself to maintain my bland customer-service persona. “And we love to help brides make their wedding dreams come true.”
Linneah made an ugly face. “The matchmakers made a mistake. You got my husband, and I got yours. You don’t deserve to be with someone as handsome, wealthy, and cultured as Chris. You deserve Teddy, who is an impoverished sad sack who only wants to sit at home in his crummy little apartment watching comedy specials on Netflix.”
“Teddy seems to really like you,” I said lightly as I poured the hot water into the French press.
“Of course. He worships the ground I walk on!” Linneah tossed her hair. “Never in a million years would he land someone as amazing as me on his own.”
She scowled at me. “I bet you rigged the competition somehow. You don’t even care about Chris. Anyone can see that you despise him. I bet the only reason you’re with him is because you want his money.”
“I really don’t,” I murmured.
“I’m going to show him that you don’t care about him, that you’re just trying to use him,” Linneah hissed at me. “Then he’ll dump you at the end of this stupid show and marry me.”
* * *
The meeting had takenmost of the day.
Elsie had catered lunch, though Addison had turned up her nose at all of the excellent food and gone on a thirty-minute tirade picking apart each dish and telling Elsie that she didn’t want anything like that at all at her wedding, and if Elsie tried to serve it, she was going to ruin the wedding.
