April has FOUR weeks last time I checked.
I’m only asking for three.
You’re missing the point.
Chris wired you an additional fee for week three this morning. What’s the problem?
This isn’t how I operate…
Igroaned and set down my phone.
“Good morning, Katie Elizabeth, Slayer of Weddings, Master of Crafting Happily Ever Afters!” Madison strolled into my office armed with coffee. “Are you ready to start another magical day by helping a couple write their fairytale?”
I stared at her.
“You know how it is here at Epilogues Forever.” She smiled, reciting my usual mantras. “Let us handle any potential plot twists and villains on your wedding day, while you focus on writing the perfect page.”
“Is that how I really sound every day?”
“It’s how you used to sound.” She dropped the mockery as she set the cups on my desk. “Now, you sound like someone who’s questioning everything she’s built.”
“That’s not true.”
“You’ve been off your game since Michelle’s initial dress fitting,” she said.
More like MY dress fitting…
“Everyone on staff is talking about it,” she said. “There’s a bet that you’re going through another Asher Brooks’ wedding crash breakdown, and we just hung a new cork board to track your behavior.”
“I thought that pink board was for tasks?”
“Oh, right.” She looked away from me. “Right…”
“Well, the last wedding he ruined was the Calloway one, and that was over a month ago,” I said. “I’m over it, and I’m not acting any differently.”
She remained silent.
“I’ve been that bad lately?”
“Bad would be a compliment,” she said. “Yesterday, you told a potential client that cakes were overrated and ‘no one cares’ about the little details on the dinner table.”
I sighed. “Please tell me that he and his wife still booked with us…”
“Of course they did,” she said. “I told them you were recovering from an illness and were only operating at sixty percent. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Thank you, Madison.”
“Now, if you could kindly turn into the real Katie Elizabeth for the next couple hours so we can handle some business…”
She dimmed the lights and turned on a projector. Within seconds, my entire back wall lit up with an image of ivory flowers and vines.
“Now that the Brooks wedding is a three-week affair, we need to make some adjustments to the final schedule,” she said.
“We have multiple dinners, brunches, and a slew of parties to plan to make sure that the revolving guest arrivals will be blown away every second.”
I clicked my pen.
“Since they’re loaded, I went all in on florals, and I’m sending two interns to scope out every inch of the resort this weekend. In addition to that?—”
