Chapter 1
Rebecca took a bite of pumpkin pie and quickly swallowed. She hated pumpkin pie. She hated the texture, the smell, and most definitely the taste, only made slightly better by a generous dollop of whipped cream. She’d eaten the whipped cream first, like a little kid, and all that was left was the icky part. But the slice had been placed in front of her by her formidable grandmother, so she couldn’t do anything but slide her fork around and pretend she was enjoying this special Thanksgiving tradition.
Grandma had controlled her only son’s life for years with threats to cut him out of the will, and Mom and Dad marched to her beat like wooden puppets. They all did. Well, except for Great Aunt Dora, but she was a whole different story.
Rebecca marched at one point, too. Not wanting to end up like her parents, drowning in debt from countless frivolous decisions only to be saved by Grandma’s bailouts, she’d almost married the wrong man. For money. At the time, she’d convinced herself it was the responsible thing to do, to fall in love with someone stable and going places in life. Such denial. Money and character were not synonymous, especially when it came to someone like Patrick. Thank goodness she’d caught him making out with his sister’s nanny three weeks before the wedding.
If she hadn’t caught him then, it very well could have been a tryst withtheirnanny years down the road. The thought made her want to chuck her pie across the room and watch it smoosh down the striped wallpaper. She caught Ian’s eye across the table, and her brother bit back a grin, as if he could read her secret wish.
So, yes, she would muscle this slice of pie down, but that was all the concessions she’d be making this Thanksgiving, or ever again.
“Rebecca, tell Aunt Dora about your new job,” Ian said, finishing off his pie slice with relish.
At last. A reason to put down her fork. Rebecca smiled across the table at Great Aunt Dora. “I’m an assistant wedding planner. I had my interview with Marlise Miles last week, and she called and offered me the job yesterday.”
“And who is Marlise Miles?” Grandma asked, staring at Rebecca’s uneaten pie slice.
Rebecca picked up a small crumb with the edge of her fork and put it in her mouth. Blech. “Marlise Miles is the richest wedding planner in California and the smartest. Getting to be her assistant is like the best internship ever, only I’m being paid well.”
Aunt Dora beamed at Rebecca. “It sounds wonderful.”
“Yes, wonderful,” Mom and Dad echoed. They were just happy she was employed again.
Rebecca loved being in event planning, but when companies went through hard times, events was the first department to go. She’d been let go from three jobs in the last two years.
“Why is she the richest?” Aunt Dora asked. Her eyes appeared two sizes too small through the thick lenses she wore. It was quite the contrast to her gigantic auburn hairdo. And yet, she totally pulled off the look. Rebecca hoped to be half as awesome as Great Aunt Dora when she was eighty. Grandma was Aunt Dora’s older sister, and the two couldn’t have been more different. Grandma rarely smiled, and when she did, you worried about why.
“She’s the richest because she owns the venues, including this amazing castle built by some rich eccentric in the 1890s. The grounds are perfect for weddings. So, Marlise isn’t just being paid to plan the wedding, sheisthe wedding. All the tables, chairs, arches, benches—she already has them onsite. Her crew sets everything up and takes it down. When the bride comes to look at the venue, she can pick out her flowers, cake, catered food, music, everything all at the same time, and it will all be handled by Marlise. Florists and bakers fall all over themselves to subcontract for her.”
Grandma harrumphed. “Sounds like a Costco.”
“I like Costco,” Aunt Dora said, taking a sip of coffee. “All those fun samples. I like that I can buy a beach towel and hummus at the same time.”
“So proud of you, honey.” Mom patted Rebecca’s hand. “How nice to get to be around all those weddings, everyone so excited and happy.”
Grandma stared at them as she dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “And what does Rebecca know about weddings?”
Rebecca ignored the dig. She was perfect for this job. Wedding planners had to be practical, even a bit jaded about the whole thing in order to offset the emotions of everyone else involved.
Just because Rebecca never had her own wedding did not mean she couldn’t give someone else their special day.
***
Picking an outfit for her first day of work took thirty minutes. Marlise Miles always looked as amazing as the events she planned, and Rebecca wanted to fit in. Which was proving harder than she’d expected.
Event jobs in the past had required pulled-back hair and black, non-descript clothing. A look that would fade into the background. And unfortunately, that bled over into what Rebecca wore when she wasn’t at work. She hadn’t spent more than fifteen minutes on her hair in months.
All that would have to change. She’d bought a curling wand on Black Friday which promised “lust-worthy curls,” and after an hour of trying not to burn herself, her dark blonde hair looked just as good as the pouty-lipped model on the box.
Rebecca slipped into her favorite high-heeled boots and hurried out to her car before rush-hour traffic prevented her from being on time.
Marlise’s office was conveniently located right next to a Starbucks, and Rebecca ran in and ordered two tall caramel lattes, two black coffees, and one iced chai latte. After her interview last week, she’d questioned the secretary about how everyone liked their coffee, just in case she got the job.
It was time to impress.
She walked in fifteen minutes early with the drinks in hand and immediately brought the iced chai latte over to the secretary, Dorothy.
Dorothy propped her reading glasses up on her fluff of white hair and sat back, taking a sip. “I’m so glad you got the job. The other girls who interviewed were too snooty to chat with me.”
