First published by Tektime 2021

Copyright © 2021 by Francois Keyser

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission

from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or

distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents

portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance

to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Francois Keyser asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this

work.

First edition

Cover art by Kseniia Lopyreva

FRANCOIS KEYSER

Cold Feet

VIOLA

The Los Angeles Wedding Exhibition. The largest and most important annual wedding exhibition in Los Angeles. Anyone who is anyone in the industry is there and anyone who wants to be someone in the industry should be there.

It’s the first year I’ve been able to rent a booth. My initial doubts about whether I can justify the cost and whether I’ll recover the investment from a brand awareness and income perspective remain to be seen. So far, it would appear that renting a booth was the right thing to do.

I have had plenty of customers register with me for follow-up appointments and even a few confirmed bookings on the spot. All told, I’m on top of the world.

Then I see her. My role model in the industry. Christine Jackson. She is the number one in the industry. I have admired her from afar for so long. While we are competitors, I hold her in the highest regard. There’s room enough for both of us and then some in the industry. I’ve never met her though but today, at last, I see her in the flesh.

She is as beautiful as the photos I have seen of her. Her long, straight blonde hair is perfect and seems to be magically held in place. Her voice is welcoming and soothing and her emerald green eyes sparkle. She wears a smart suit that accentuates her figure in all the right places. It has the effect of creating a professional image as opposed to a sexy one, depending on who she’s talking to. I’m sure men want to talk to her for the reason that she is so sexy while their wives talk to her because she looks so professional and confident. It’s a no-brainer for a husband and wife to agree on using her for their children’s wedding or for a couple to agree to use her for their wedding even if they have different reasons for being convinced to use her.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to stereotype, and not everyone will fall for the trick but there is a reason why dressing sexy is one of the oldest tricks in the book to getting attention. It works.

Mentally, I take a page out of her book as I study myself surreptitiously in the mirror of the booth opposite mine. I might not be dressed as sexy as Christine but I’m not doing badly at all businesswise. So maybe I don’t need to dress like her and I just need to keep doing what I’m doing.

I’m surprised by a voice behind me.

“Are you Viola?”

I turn around hastily blushing at having been caught studying myself in the mirror. It’s Christine and I blush even more just because it’s her. I recover quickly and nod.

“Yes. I am. You are Christine Jackson.” I offer my hand but she ignores it.

“Everyone knows me,” she smiles.

“You have no idea. I’ve been a fan of yours ever since I started in the industry. You’re my role model.”

“Really?” Christine’s eyes flash as she takes in my remark. “I’m happy to hear that. I had no idea that someone like you was just a follower.”

I’m fawning over Christine like a school girl when her first crush notices her for the first time. Before I can say anything more my assistant, Jessica catches my attention. I look at her and she holds up her mobile phone and indicates that someone wants to talk to me.

“Um… excuse me for a moment,” I say. I cross to Jessica who takes me by the arm and turns away from Christine.

“Who’s on the phone?”

“No-one,” she whispers. “but take my advice. Pretend there’s someone on the phone and walk away right now. Come back when she’s gone.”

I look at her quizzically but her expression tells me she’s in charge and furious. I take the phone and press it to my ear. I start a fake conversation with no-one and walk away.

Jessica steps up to Christine.

“I’m so sorry. Viola had to take that call. Another booking.”

Christine nods and smiles. She extends her hand, “No problem. And you are?”

Jessica ignores Christine’s hand just as Christine ignored mine. “Jessica. Can I help you?”

“You are,” Christine smiles as she picks up one of our brochures. “I just came to see your booth to make sure I’m not making any amateur mistakes.”

“Well then I guess you can see that you have a lot of fixing to do,” Jessica retorts coldly.

Christine’s eyes harden and she casts one last glance around my booth. Despite Jessica’s loyalty to me, Christine presses on, “If ever you want to work with a true professional, call me. I’ll pay more. Besides, I don’t think your boss is going to be in business much longer.”

“Why is that?” Jessica asks.

“Just a hunch,” Christine says. “My offer stands as long as this joke is in business. When it’s not in business anymore, my offer will be gone. Get out while you’re ahead.”

“I am ahead,” Jessica responds. “We are ahead of you. Now, why don’t you go and be men’s fantasy at your booth before I have to call the cleaners.”

Christine’s face flushes with anger. She opens her mouth then closes it again before walking briskly away.

I watch Jessica and Christine from afar but can’t hear what is said. After Christine leaves, I return to the booth.

“What was that about?” I ask Jessica.

“Jesus, girl! You were fawning all over that tart!” She mimics me, “You’re my role model. She’s probably telling the guests at her booth that she’s your role model. She even offered me a job and said that you won’t be in business much longer.”

“What?” I ask astounded.

“Yeah, so much for your role model,” Jessica says.

“Let me go over there and give her a piece of my mind…”

Jessica stops me. “Leave it, Vi. There’s no need to make this any worse. She’s just jealous because we’re better than her and she knows it. Take the high road and let it go. There’s more than enough room for both of us in this game.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, Jessica.” I enter the booth and sit down. Inside I am still fuming. I had nothing but respect for Christine but with what Jessica just told me, I have lost all respect for her. I’m hurt too and finally take a walk to calm myself down.

The rest of the exhibition passes without further contact between Christine and myself. The clients we have gained from being present have made the exhibition well worth it and help me to forget about the disappointment of what happened with Christine.

CHRISTINE

I’ve been a wedding planner for a long time. I’m the best in the game and I’m not about to let a young upstart challenge for my crown. There’s one person who I come up against more and more and it’s her. Viola. I’ve lost a lot of business to her. I’m still doing great numbers and growing but I could grow so much faster if she wasn’t fishing in my pond.

Who the hell does she think she is? I know this business inside out. There isn’t that much to it when you’re an expert. It’s easy to pinpoint the weak points in any wedding planner’s business. Hell, they’re the same weak spots as mine and that makes it even easier to take her down. Her assistant didn’t want to take my offer but that’s okay. It’s just one point of attack.

When I’m finished, they’ll both be crawling to me.

I look at the brochure I took from their booth and start to formulate my plan of attack. I boot up my laptop and am soon on Viola’s website looking for the information I need. I can’t find what I’m looking for so I try another angle. I go to the gallery and testimonials.

Bingo! I make notes of the information I am looking for and then close the site.

I pick up the phone and dial Viola’s office number.

The phone is answered promptly.

“Hi, this is Mrs. Anderson.”

“Yes, Mrs. Anderson. How can I help you? This is Jessica.”

The assistant. “We’re having a party soon for Mr. Anderson’s office and he asked me about the band that we had at the wedding. I thought I’d give you a call and find out if I could contact them to see if they’re available. Would it be possible to give me their number?”

“Sure, Mrs. Anderson. I’d be only too happy to. Hold on while I get the details.”

I wait a few moments and then Jessica comes on the line again. “Here you go, Mrs. Anderson.”

She gives me the contact name and number for Steve from the band called ‘Plastered’. I thank her and hang up.

I smile and mentally congratulate myself. It’s that easy.

When Steve answers the phone I arrange to meet him to discuss hiring the band for a party.

Steve is already waiting when I enter the coffee shop. He recognizes me from the clothes I told him I’d be wearing and waves to me. I cross to the booth and slide in opposite him. I feel his eyes appraise me as I sit down. I’ve worn a short skirt and a tight, white cotton blouse that accentuates my breasts. It’s unbuttoned just far enough to reveal a glimpse of my bra which is visible through the soft material of the blouse anyway. I shake Steve’s hand.

“How can I help you?” Steve asks.

“I have a confession, Steve,” I reply conspiratorially.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, intrigued.

“Well, when I said I need a band for a party, I wasn’t being totally honest. I’d like your band to play for all my parties unless my clients insist otherwise.”

“All your parties?” Steve frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m a wedding planner, just like Viola who you work with regularly.”

Steve nods as the penny drops. “Well, you know we go back a long way. I mean I’d be happy to support you when you have a wedding if we don’t have a wedding booked with Viola.”

I smile and shake my head. “I thought you’d say that Steve but I have to say I’m looking for a reversal of that proposed arrangement. You play all my weddings and fit her in where you can. I’ll pay you one and a half times what she pays you per wedding.”

Steve looks at me and says nothing. I can tell his mind is working overtime and I can tell where it’s headed so I cut it off.

“This is a one-time deal. Right here, right now. There’s no going to Viola and bargaining with her. I’m not into horse-trading.”

“Well, what about if I call the band and discuss it with them?” Steve asks.

“Why would they care? A gig’s a gig. Doesn’t matter who you play for or where you play. Right?”

Steve sighs. He’s tempted but his loyalty is still to Viola. “When’s the first gig?”

‘Saturday.”

“Saturday? That’s two days away!”

“And?”

“We’re booked for a wedding with Viola. We can’t just drop her at such short notice. It’s not ethical.”

“Look,” I say hardening my tone. “You guys have a good name out there. It’s why I came to you first. But you’re not the only band. I’ll say this too, and I don’t mean to sound like I’m bragging but when it comes to wedding planners, I. Am. The. Best. So, you can decide if you’re going to be loyal to number two or three or whatever the hell Viola is, or you can come along with me. Success breeds success. You know that as well as I do.”

Steve ponders my words. I can tell he’s not happy. Then he shakes his head. “We can start next week. Not this weekend. I just can’t do that to Viola or her client.”

I look at Steve. He’s serious. “Well, I guess I’ll have to find another band then,” I say and begin to gather my things to leave.

“No deal?” Steve asks.

“I offered you a deal,” I say firmly.

“A deal’s only a deal where both parties are happy”

I pause. “And what wouldn’t make you happy about the deal? One weekend? One weekend when you could be earning one and a half times what you get now every weekend from now on?”

“You know, I think this isn’t so much as our band being paid more as it is a personal issue between you and Viola. Am I right? Because if that’s the case, the band isn’t going to make a difference. If you don’t have what she offers she’s always going to be one ahead of you…”

“…and pray tell me, Steve, what does she have that I don’t have?”

“Aside from the band, she’s got a great assistant…”

“…got one,” I say.

“…rapport with clients…”

“Got it,” I add.

“…Wedding Whisperer…”

“A what?” I ask frowning.

Steve smiles. “See. You’re not close to what she offers.”

I ignore his remark. “What is a Wedding Whisperer?”

“A person who encourages the bride or groom to work through their fear of getting married at the last minute. You know, ‘cold feet’?” He makes inverted commas in the air with his fingers.

I sit back. “Oh, that! Who doesn’t have that?” I lie. “I just don’t call it that.”

“Well, I have to be going. It’s been a pleasure to meet you but I guess we won’t be doing business,” Steve says.

“Well, remember I did try to help.”

“Thank you for that,” Steve says as I stand. He stands too and we shake hands. I leave the coffee shop and he sits down again and takes out his cellphone. I know he’s going to try to horse trade anyway. Maybe I’ll let him do it. I’ll see how I feel later. Right now, I’m more interested in the ‘wedding whisperer’ concept that he mentioned to me.

I think of the cancellations I’ve had when the wedding has been about to kick off in church. Not many but it happens. It’s ingenious and I’m even more adamant to shut Viola’s business down than before.

VIOLA

“Steve, this is really difficult. I can’t just increase the band’s fee. You know this wedding was booked months ago. I calculated the fee based on what I was paying you then. Whoever is offering you this, obviously has the budget to pay what they’re offering.”

“I’ve spoken to the band,” Steve replies. “They want extra pay.”

“Look, let’s talk about extra pay for the wedding after this one and all future weddings. Just not this one. I’ve cut my profit a lot already just to get this wedding. It’s important to me. Having this wedding is good for my resume.”

“Well, it’s not good for our pockets,” Steve replies firmly.

“Steve, c’mon. Where is this coming from? We’ve always been able to negotiate. Why the big push now?”

“I only have a few hours and then the offer’s off the table.”

“Well, can I ask who it is that’s making this offer?”

“Does it matter? It’s not going to change anything,” Steve replies.

“Sure, but I’ll find out anyway.”

“Christine. Christine Jackson.”

I feel my anger rise instantly. The woman who I idolized and held as a role model until recently. My heart tells me this is deliberate. It’s not a coincidence. I almost swear but I bite my tongue.

“Vi?” Steve asks.

“Yes. Okay, look. I’ll pay you fifty percent more this weekend and from now on. Just don’t do this to me again, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise me, Steve,” I say firmly. “I can’t afford these kinds of problems so late before a wedding.”

“Okay,” Steve says. “I’m sorry.”

“Do me a favor please.”

“What’s that?” Steve asks.

“Not a word of this to anyone okay? If this gets out, everyone else is going to demand more money and I can’t pay it right now. Okay? Will you tell your band?”

“Sure. We can keep it quiet.”

“You better,” I say.

“Um, Vi,” Steve says.

He wants to tell me something and seems hesitant about doing so.

“What is it, Steve?” I ask.

“I let it slip that you use a wedding whisperer,” Steve says.

“What is a wedding whisperer?” I ask, confused.

“Ashley,” Steve replies.

I hang my head. I don’t know what to say. I have always thought of Ashley as a counselor. And I’ve kept her a secret for so long. Everyone in my team knows about her but that’s as far as it goes. It's something I don’t advertise not even to my clients. No-one else in the game uses one, at least not that I know of and now the cat is out of the bag.

I want to scream at Steve but I hold back.

“Vi?” he asks prompting me to break my silence.

“I’m here,” I reply.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make any problems or let your secrets slip. I was just trying to tell her how much better you are than her.”

And yet, you’ll go and work for her because she’s offering more money, I think to myself. I immediately feel guilty for the thought. I have known Steve for a long time. We have worked together for a long time too and I would have expected that he would approach me in a more professional manner about increasing their income.

“I appreciate that, Steve,” I say. “Just don’t say another word about it to her or anyone okay?”

“Sure. I’m sorry,” Steve says.

We end the call and I pace my living room angrily. I am livid. I want to call Christine and give her a piece of my mind but I resist the urge to do so. I’m even angrier that she knows about the wedding whisperer. I’m angry at her and I’m angry at Steve.

For some reason, I have a bad feeling about the fact that Steve has told Christine about my ‘wedding whisperer’. I never advertise it to anyone as I don’t think it’s something to advertise as something that sets me apart from other wedding planners. Sure, I charge for it but the fee is built into other fees when I provide a breakdown to clients.

It’s not about the cost because I’m still cheaper than people like Christine. It’s about the fact that I don’t think people will feel it’s nice to feel like they’re being pushed into a wedding if they’re having last-minute, second thoughts about getting married. The truth is that many people do have last-minute, second thoughts and it’s a silly thing really since they usually go ahead anyway and get married. But if they don’t, just in case they don’t, they stand to lose a lot of money which is non-refundable. Money paid for the caterer, the MC, the venue, the band and so much more. There is my reputation to think about too and I’m not about to have a wedding canceled because someone’s having second thoughts. I do have a reputation to uphold. So, is it ethical? My own jury’s still out on that but so far, it’s worked and everyone’s been happy.

I’m sure Christine will be quick to copy the idea now that she knows about it. Especially since I’ve managed to prevent Steve from leaving. She’ll be pissed about that and will surely be looking for the next thing she can come at me with.

I guess she’s taken a dislike to me because I’m her competition. I can’t imagine why though other than that I might have taken a client that she dearly wanted. A client like the one whose wedding I am doing this weekend.

Well, she can go after my band and whatever else she wants but it’s too late to take this client.

Better luck next time, bitch, I think to myself. I am quite amazed at how fast my view of her has gone from idol and role model to stomach twisting anger when I think of her or hear her name.

I wonder if she’s going to go after my other resources as well now that she has failed with Steve. Rather than sit and fume, I decide to start finding alternate resources to step in at short notice if necessary. That’s the right thing to do.

CHRISTINE

I’m angry. I failed with Steve and his band.

I take a few deep breaths and begin to relax. Getting a wedding planner’s band is just one part of their business. There are many other parts to go after. However, I push the thought of other parts of the business aside as I think about the concept of the ‘wedding whisperer’ that Steve let slip to me.

I know there’s something important in it. It hovers just beyond my mental grasp like a carrot on a stick for the time being. I have to admit it’s a genius idea and I should be thinking of doing it myself. But there’s something else about it that I think is much more important than simply copying the idea.

I grab the brochure that I took from Viola’s booth and study it. There’s not a word in the brochure about a wedding whisperer. Nothing that even alludes to it as a service.

I check her website again. Nothing. Nowhere. The testimonials say nothing about it. How can she keep it secret? Surely the clients should be impressed with the added value?

Why would clients keep it secret? It’s not possible. Unless…

Unless what? I know it’s there but I just can’t grasp it. Frustrated, I finally try to push it away and focus on other work I have to do.

My assistant enters my office and I decide to bounce the idea off her.

“Lacy?”

“Yes?”

“I want to bounce something off you. An idea to possibly improve our service and differentiate us from other wedding planners.”

“Okay,” Lacy says as she sits down opposite me. “What is it?”

“A wedding whisperer.”

“A what?” Lacy asks not understanding what I’m talking about.

“A wedding whisperer. A person who I employ to encourage the bride or groom to put their last-minute fears of getting married away and go through with the wedding anyway.”

“Why on earth would you want to do that?” Lacy asks.

“Because clients fork out a lot of money on a wedding. Money they lose if the bride or groom decides to stand the other up at the altar. This person would help them get through their fear and walk down the aisle anyway.”

Lacy shakes her head. She’s conservative and I know I’ve done the right thing asking her. If anyone will have a negative objection it’s her. As much as her objections are negative, they do make sense most of the time.

“No way. That’s asking for trouble.”

‘Trouble? From who?”

Chris,” she says using the shortened version of my name. “It’s dangerous. A good idea but dangerous. Too dangerous.”

“Why do you say it’s dangerous?”

She leans forward, crosses her legs, and rests her elbow on her knee. In turn, she rests her chin on her hand as she always does when she’s about to make a very important point. “What happens if this wedding whisperer talks the bride or groom into getting married and a few months or years later, they get divorced?”

“I’m not sure I follow you, Lacy.”

“Well, people get pretty bitter when they get divorced. They need people to blame. They need to put their anger on someone else and if they can say they got married because they felt pressured to do so by a wedding whisperer, I’d say you’re going to have lawyers kicking down your door very quickly.”

I absorb what Lacy has just told me. I know she’s right and in my mind, the donkey finally gets the carrot on the stick.

I nod my understanding. “Thanks, Lacy. That makes sense. I can always count on you.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she smiles.

“That’s all for now.”

Lacy gets up and leaves my office.

I almost jump for joy. I can’t believe I didn’t see the possibilities of what she just told me. I look at the brochure again. Nothing. Not a word about a wedding whisperer.

And now I know why. It’s a bomb looking for a detonator and a place to be set off. Any wedding could be the place and the detonator.

I laugh with joy.

I know what I need to do.

VIOLA

Cold feet.

No, I don’t mean cold feet as in the kind you get from being out in the cold or swimming in water that’s too cold or simply not dressing warm enough.

I mean the other kind of cold feet.

The worst kind.

The kind that some women, and to a lesser extent, some men get just before their wedding. Yes, that kind.

My biggest pet hate. Why? Because in my line of work, they can ruin everything.

What is my line of work?

I’m a wedding planner. Any wedding planner hates and fears cold feet. They can derail everything. The whole day. Ruin you financially and possibly your reputation too.

I’ve been in this game a long time though and I’ve learned the hard way. When you’ve had enough cancellations because of cold feet you become hard. It becomes a matter of survival as well as doing what you love.

I now insist on non-refundable deposits from clients. They sign a contract when they hire me and they accept that they will lose their hard-earned money if they dare cancel. The deposit covers the location rental, decorations, cakes, caterers, furniture and marquee, photographer, band, and absolutely everything I need to cover.

I’ve gone a step further with my service. I include a counselor who provides last-minute counseling if the bride or the groom gets cold feet. They don’t know the person they’re speaking to is a counselor if I send them in. The counselor works the magic they need to, to keep the show on the road.

I’m the best. Not just as far as clients are concerned but also as far as my suppliers are concerned. They know they’ll get paid even if the show doesn’t go on.

I’m inundated with clients and they even delay their weddings just so I can be the wedding planner. I’m not boasting, just saying how it is.

For me, it’s not about the business aspect. There’s something about seeing a couple walk down the aisle to that moment in time when they will commit to each other before God and everyone present. Seeing the love and caring in their eyes and their kiss and the celebrations that follow. I love it. I love to see a couple in love and happy. That’s why I do it. I help couples make a dream come true with their wedding day.

But right now, I’m waiting with bated breath. It’s early Saturday afternoon.

The groom is waiting in church and the bride hasn’t even left her home yet. The counselor is doing her best but this one is her hardest to date.

I’m beginning to think that I’m about to lose the first wedding I’ve lost in ages. I am seeing my record run of talking brides and grooms out of cold feet threatening to end here and now. The groom is restless as are the people in the church.

I wait with bated breath for the message to update me.

My phone pings. The bride is on her way.

I say a silent prayer of thanks and heave a sigh of relief. I key the walkie-talkie and speak to my team. “Bride’s on the way. Positions please.”

I receive crackled confirmations from the team and head inside to tell the groom the bride is on the way. I lie and tell him that there was a traffic jam because of an accident. That’s usually the story I give them. The bride, or groom, whichever one of them had cold feet is always told what to say beforehand. As far as possible, no-one wants to admit they had cold feet on their wedding day. It’s not the way to start a marriage. They can sort it out later if the bride or groom wants to give their new spouse the real reason why they were late.

The drive to the church isn’t far and thankfully the bride’s car arrives soon enough. The bride steps out and the organ starts playing as she enters the church with the flower girls and maid of honor trailing behind her.

The groom watches her and his face lights up with joy. He can’t see her face that well because of the veil. I hope the bride is giving none of her fear away. My counselor climbed out of the car when they arrived. It must have been bad if the counselor had to drive with her to the church.

It worries me that she might still at this stage back out but thankfully she doesn’t. I say another prayer of thanks when she says ‘I do” and kisses her husband.

I wait outside as the newly married couple exit the church. Guests and well-wishers sprinkle confetti and smile as the couple walks down the church steps and climbs into the waiting carriage.

We made it this far, I think with relief. Now it’s on to the reception which I expect will go off without a hitch. The couple will do their photos just before the reception so there is time for me to have lunch and regroup with the team.

As I turn to reenter the church, I notice him for the first time. I pause as I take him in.

He is slim and muscular. Not too muscular but he clearly spends time in the gym. His hair is jet black and short but not military style. His blue eyes sparkle and his strong jaw is perfectly proportioned. White teeth sparkle with his smile and everything about him says ‘I am in charge.”

He can be in charge of me any day, I think as I take him in. He’s looking at the newly married couple but must feel my eyes on him because he turns and our eyes meet for the briefest of moments. I blush and look away quickly as I soak my panties.

I didn’t see that he was with someone and I wonder where his partner is. Surely, he can’t be at this wedding alone? Not someone as gorgeous as him!

I feel his eyes on me but I resist the urge to look at him again. I wait until the couple is heading down the road in the wedding carriage and then I key my walkie-talkie and call the team together for a meeting.

We meet on the church grounds where we eat lunch. In my business, I have a lot of contacts. One of them is a caterer I use regularly for food for the team. They’re not expensive and the food is always good. They also know what food is needed for every team member so I don’t have to worry that someone might get the order wrong. It just makes everything so much easier. One more part of the well-oiled machine that my wedding planner business is.

Catering also lets us eat somewhere away from crowds in a restaurant with no distractions. We can focus on what needs to be done and adapt our plan any way we need to without interference.

The team all confirm they are ready for the role they will play in the reception. The photographer is the only one who is absent since he has a full day with the bride and groom.

The band confirms that they are ready with their equipment and will head to the reception location after lunch to begin setting up and testing their equipment.

I move through the checklist and mark off items one by one as the team members confirm that their part in the ‘show’ is ready to go.

Catering. Check. Band. Check. Decorations. Check. Flowers. Check. MC. Check. The list goes on and each item is a check.

I finish the checklist and everyone continues eating.

Ashley approaches me. She’s the counselor I use when the bride or groom get’s cold feet. I never expect her to stay around after the wedding. Her job is pretty much done after the couple has said ‘I do’.

“Ashley,” I smile and embrace her. We have worked together for a long time and are good friends now.

“You did a great job as usual,” I smile when we end our embrace and I look at her.

Ashley looks at the team quickly and then back at me. “Can we speak somewhere privately?”

I sense concern in her voice and nod my head. “Sure. Let’s go inside.” We enter the church through a side door and take a pew beside each other.

“What is it?” I ask Ashley.

Ashley looks at me. “This was the hardest session ever,” she says. “I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing.”

I frown in confusion, “What do you mean you don’t know if you’ve done the right thing?”

Ashley wipes away a stray wisp of black hair from her face and continues, “I get that people have cold feet sometimes and I know it’s my job to get them through that so the wedding can go off well. But sometimes there’s more to the reason for their cold feet than it just being cold feet. No-one has ever given me a reason before today but today the bride gave me a reason.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” I say.

Ashley looks as if she’s about to cry and she opens her mouth to continue but then closes it.

“Is everything okay?” a voice asks from behind me.

I turn around and see the minister who married the bride and groom.

“Yes father,” I say standing out of respect. “Ashley is just emotional to see her sister is married.” I wait for the lightning to turn me to a crisp for lying to the father but it doesn’t come.

“As long as it’s happy emotions,” the father smiles.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I smile. Ashley simply nods. I know she doesn’t trust her voice as she looks as if she is about to break down altogether.

“Very well then,” the father says and pats Ashley’s shoulder as he moves off.

Ashley’s eyes close and she begins to sob silently. I sit beside her and put my arm around her. “It’s okay. Talk to me. What is the problem?”

Ashley cries for a long time and then finally she calms enough to stop crying. I have given her all my tissues and she blows her nose again and dabs at her makeup which is ruined. At least she has time to fix it before the reception. She doesn’t have to attend but normally she does.

She becomes silent for a moment and then finally, trusting her voice to be stable she tells me what has her so upset. “The bride had cold feet because… because she thinks the groom is cheating on her.”

The words hit me like a Mack truck. “What? Are you serious?”

Ashley nods her head and, as she begins to cry again, she manages to say, “I may have convinced the bride to marry a cheater!”

VIOLA

I’ve never had this situation before. Ashley tells me that the bride has no proof. She’s not even sure who the groom might be cheating with if he is cheating.

I calm Ashley enough that she stops crying and I try to make her feel better. I remind her of what a great job she has done for me every time I have needed her and that everything has been fine. I try to assure her that everything will be fine today too. I suggest that she rather goes home and does not attend the reception but she insists that she will.

I am tempted to pull the groom to one side before the reception and tell him what I’ve been told and tell him to keep his dick in his pants at least for today figuratively speaking. But it’s no business of mine. If the bride is wrong and I bring this up, I could be sued, and so could Ashley. I would probably lose my whole reputation and my business, never mind the fact that I would have to refund the money I have been paid for this wedding. I could do it but that’s beside the point. I would possibly never get another wedding in my life.

No, the show must go on. I think positively and try to assure Ashley again that everything will be fine. There’s no harm in positive thinking. Right?

Ashley goes home to rest and fix her makeup before returning for the reception. The team has finished their lunch and has left by the time I go outside again.

I leave and head home where I rest a bit and have a shower. I always build in the time to get home, get changed, and have a shower before the reception. The job of a wedding planner is not an easy one and the amount of sweating that I do at the church is unbelievable. There is no way I can go all day without a shower and a change of clothes.

Ready for ‘round two’ as I refer to the reception, I get in my car and head to the location. I’m early as always. The reception is being held at the Bel Air Bay Club.

I move through the building and out to the gardens making sure that everything is going according to plan. I search for the man I saw outside the church earlier but he doesn’t appear to have arrived yet. It’s still early though and not many guests have arrived yet.

There are no hiccups and aside from what Ashley told me, I think the reception will go off perfectly.

The wedding couple and their families arrive and are directed to the gardens. It’s time for the photos to be done before the reception starts.

I watch the bride and groom together. The bride seems happy. I watch her and notice that her face gives away nothing other than the appearance of being happy. I’m sure it was just nerves and paranoia I tell myself. Now the bride is married and she realizes there is nothing to be worried about at all.

The families gather, meet, greet and chat as they wait for their turn to pose in the photos with the happy couple. It always makes me happy to see the union of two families through one happy couple. The marriages don’t always last but I don’t think of that. What matters is today and the happiness that the couple shares. The bride seems to relax and even smiles and laughs.

There you go, I think. Sure, she was the toughest bride yet for Ashley but there’s nothing to worry about.

The photos take a long time and by the time they’re finished the guests are waiting where they are seated in the garden area. Using my walkie-talkie, I check with everyone that we are ‘green’ and get confirmation from all of them.

I make my way to the table furthest from the tables of honor. I sit down and run through things again. Everything is taken care of.

The reception begins and the MC has the guests in laughter as he tells tales about the newlyweds and jokes with them. From here on out the MC runs the show. I take orders from him if need be and make sure what he needs at any given moment is taken care of.

The reception couldn’t be better. I think it’s one of the best ever. Ashley has arrived and is seated with me at the table. I assure her repeatedly that everything is okay and she seems to relax.

As we begin to eat, I see him. He doesn’t see me and my eyes follow him as he mingles with the other guests, smiling and talking with nothing but god-given confidence. I watch him because I want to know if he is with someone but at no stage do I see a partner.

I wonder who he is. I did not see him at the photo session so I doubt he is family. He must be here with an invite and I wonder who has invited him. He sees me again and smiles. I blush and look away again quickly. I feel my face grow redder as I see him approaching with my peripheral vision.

I realize he is looking straight at me. I feel my panties soaking again as I blush. Control yourself! I scold myself mentally. The man hasn’t even spoken to you yet and you’re flooding your panties! He probably only needs salt or something anyway.

I look up at him as he stops beside me. He looks down at me and his lips part in a smile revealing sparkling white teeth. I give him the quick once over. He is wearing a grey suit and a white shirt that looks as if it’s been pressed by a steamroller. There is not a single crease on it. It’s immaculate. He wears a tie which looks black in the light. It’s the right length. His suit fits perfectly. It’s neither too big nor too tight for his toned frame. His shoes finish his outfit and they simply gleam as if they’ve been waxed and polished at a car wash.

My eyes meet his again. He is still smiling. I blush again like a little girl who has just been spoken to by her first high school crush.

“Hi. I’m Rick,” he says offering his hand. His voice is so calm yet masculine and firm.

And I am so wet. No man has ever had this effect on me.

I stand so I won’t be craning my neck to admire this gorgeous, heaven-sent gift of a man. I take his hand and shake it without realizing what I am doing. I feel as if I have no control over my body and it’s simply acting of its own volition. His skin is soft and warm and I picture his hands running over my naked skin as I blush again.

“I’m Viola,” I say. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Rick smiles. He leans across the table and offers his hand to Ashley who takes it and blushes as well. They greet each other before Rick turns back to me.

“Could we take a walk?” he asks.

“I… I…,” I stutter. I’m at a loss for words and look at Ashley desperately for help.

She is smiling and nods waving me away with her hand.

“… okay,” I manage to say.

VIOLA

He offers his arm and I link my arm through his. We wander away from the party into the gardens. There is still some time before the reception begins. I’m sure whatever he wishes to discuss will be over by then.

“It’s a lovely evening,” he says, sounding as if he is observing something working exactly the way it should.

“I think it’s perfect,” I reply.

“Nearly perfect.” His remark tells me that he thinks something is missing.

“And what would make it perfect if I may ask?” I say looking up at him as we walk towards the beach.

“Getting to know you better,” he replies confidently.

I blush, thankful that it is night and there is little light for him to see how red my face is. My skin is a golden brown but despite its color, I’m sure he could see me blushing if there was enough light. Despite the cool breeze, I feel warmer than expected and I know it’s Rick’s remark and his closeness that is having this effect on me. What is wrong with you? No man has ever had this effect on me this quickly. I know I’m feeling like a little girl who has just been spoken to by her first high school crush. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I haven’t had someone in my life for a long time.

“Do you gatecrash weddings looking for women that you can charm and flirt with? Is that your strategy to find a girlfriend?” I tease.

He chuckles. “Not at all. I just happened to be invited to this wedding as a friend of a friend.”

“I had no idea that people were in the habit of inviting friends of friends to wedding receptions these days.”

Rick laughs. “Well, I’m glad I was invited otherwise I would never have met you.”

“Oh really?” I smile. “Tell me, does the hard sell really work with women for you?” I’m guessing it does. He’s so damn gorgeous. And while he’s straightforward and confident, he doesn’t come across as being arrogant.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Mm-hmm,” I reply.

“Well, then I must admit I don’t usually do the hard sell but tonight when I saw you, I thought I probably don’t have much time. You’re very busy with coordinating the wedding and, I might add, you’re doing an absolutely stellar job of it but I’m guessing that you walking with me right now is a luxury that you can scarcely afford unless you have someone who can hold the fort a while.”

“You seem to know me well,” I say glancing at him.

He stops and turns to look at me taking my hand in his with ease. If anyone saw us, they would easily think we were a couple. I am amazed at how he does not seem to think it might be considered creepy or think it might be crossing a line considering that we’ve only just met.

The truth is I don’t mind. As he holds my hand, I make no move to withdraw it from his. His hands are soft, and his touch gentle. His touch is setting my skin on fire and I don’t think a fire extinguisher can put out the fire between my thighs. His eyes, his voice, his smile are all so perfect and are all having an effect on me that no man has ever had.

“When I saw you tonight, I knew I had to get to know you better. I just felt … something. When our eyes met, I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”

“Careful then. You might get burned,” I tease.

“I somehow don’t think so,” he smiles. “I’m grateful you’re giving me this time and I don’t know how long we have so I’ll just come right out and say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to see you again. I want to get to know you better. Will you give me your number?” As he asks, he releases my hand and he places his hand on my cheek. I lean into his touch. It’s warm. Comforting.

I say nothing but simply look into his eyes. He leans into me bringing his face to my level. Our noses touch. He is asking permission without saying a word. I don’t reply and he takes my silence as permission.

Our lips brush softly, briefly. It’s another request for permission. When he senses no resistance, his lips settle on mine and I hungrily clamp his lower lip between my teeth as I suck it. Our tongues clash and briefly battle for entry before we acknowledge we both want the same thing and they start to dance with our passion. Our breathing quickens as he pulls me close. He wraps his arms around me and I feel so safe and warm as if I am in a cocoon. I wrap my arms around him but my hands can’t join behind him. I let them roam up and down his back and I can feel his toned body under his shirt.

As our hands explore, I feel his desire pressing against me. I drop my hands to his waist and then to his ass and pull him closer increasing the pressure of him against me.

A soft moan escapes me. When I grab his ass, he quickly follows and his hands settle on my ass. They squeeze my ass cheeks and then massage them softly but firmly.

We eventually come up for air and I hastily look around wondering if anyone has seen us. I am beginning to feel guilty at being gone so long. He looks around too as if he senses my concern. He looks around again and in the next moment sweeps me off my feet.

I let out a surprised squeal and he quickly hushes me with his lips on mine.

Up ahead the path is lined by trees and he carries me through a gap in the trees on the left. A bigger tree stands behind the trees lining the path and he sets me down behind it out of sight of the path. Pressing me against the tree, he kisses me hungrily again. His hands are all over me and mine are all over him.

What are you doing? You don’t even know this man that well. My inner voice is talking non-stop, taken aback by my sudden recklessness. I don’t normally do this. No, wait. I never do this, have never done this. I’m living a little, I answer my inner voice. Now shut up!

Rick’s hands find the hem of my skirt. I feel his hands as they settle between my thighs. He ends our kiss and looks at me astounded.

“You little tart,” he whispers. “You’re soaking!”

“I… cannot… tell a lie,” I whisper with a smile.

It’s all it takes. He lifts my skirt over my ass and I feel the tree’s bark press against my ass briefly. His fingers find the elastic of my panties and pull them downward.

I don’t stop him. I don’t resist. I should be getting back to the reception but dammit, I can’t help myself right now. I have never been this hot for anyone in my life. There are so many elements right here that make me want this here and now.

We’re outside, we could be discovered, he is a handsome, confident, sexy stranger who could have anyone he wants but he wants me. This is so passionate. We hardly know each other but we want each other. There’s nothing to make us overthink this. It’s just a man and a woman giving in to their carnal desire.

He pulls my panties down and I step out of them as I rest my hands on his back. He straightens and holds up my white lace thong. It’s my favorite. It must be lucky.

I look from my panties to him and blush. He brings them to his nose and smells them. He inhales deeply and then lowers them as he looks at me.

“You smell so good,” he whispers. “I want you.” He moves closer and I let him. I want him. My walkie-talkie crackles sounding like a scream in the quiet darkness around us.

I grab it and key it.

“V here, go,” I say.

It’s Jessica. Her voice crackles over the walkie-talkie, “We need you at the reception.”

“I’m on my way,” I say.

Rick looks at me, his eyebrows raised.

I blush. “I have to go. Sorry.”

He holds up my panties, with a questioning look.

“Later,” I say as I straighten my skirt. “I need to get back…”

He pulls me to him and kisses me again quickly. “Don’t let me keep you. Maybe we can continue this after the wedding?”

“Maybe,” I say as I pull away and make my way back to the path. I feel the coolness of the night air and freedom now that I am commando. I have to admit that it feels good. You little slut, my inner voice says. I answer it and it falls silent, Yeah, you’re loving it as much as I am. You’re in the same body remember? I realize I’ll have to remember to be careful when I bend over and sit down. I can do that I tell myself.

I key the walkie-talkie as I walk briskly back to the reception. “What’s needed?” I ask. I never ask ‘what’s the problem?’ It has negative connotations and I am superstitious that it will bring bad luck and so I avoid referring to anything as a problem.

“Bar limit checkpoint,” my assistant replies.

Wow! I think to myself. This party is pumping. The bar limit checkpoint comes when eighty percent of the allocated budget had been reached. It is one of my standard operating procedures. When this point is reached, I seek approval to exceed the limit and confirm a new limit with whoever is footing the bill booze bill. I estimate the party still has at least two hours to go and there is no way the budget will last. There are a variety of options available to limit the cost and it’s time to speak to Trish’s father who is paying in this instance.

“Okay. I’ll get back to you,” I tell Jessica.

VIOLA

I get back to the table and sit down beside Ashley after the new bar limit has been confirmed. She looks at me and smiles.

“You were gone a while,” she smiles knowingly waiting for me to spill the beans.

“I had to sort out the bar limit,” I reply blushing. “I wasn’t with him all the time.”

“Could have fooled me,” Ashley says. Bursting with curiosity, she asks, “What did he want?”

“To get together after the wedding,” I smile.

“Really?” Ashley asks surprised. “He doesn’t take it slow does he?”

I blush again as I think of just how slow we didn’t take it. I shake my head not trusting my voice to answer as I avoid Ashley’s gaze.

“You tart!” she whispers. “You didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” I ask feigning ignorance but still not looking at her.

“I know you,” Ashley whispers again. “You dirty little girl!” she teases.

I look at her and feign offense. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” I smile.

“C’mon. Tell me, tell me!” she whispers, begging like a little child.

I have worked with Ashley for a long time and we are good friends. She knows me well and I know her well too. I’m enjoying stringing her along.

“We didn’t…” I say and let the thought hang in the air.

“…but?” she prompts.

“I had to come back here for the bar limit but you can call me commando,” I say as I sip my drink.

“Commando?” Ashley asks confused and then it hits her. Her hand flies to her mouth as she realizes what I mean. “Oh my…”

I smile at her and wink. Then her eyes flick to a point above and behind my head and a moment later I hear his voice again.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks.

Of course not, and if it was, it would have become vacant right now just for you, I think before I reply. “No, but I’m guessing it’s about to be.”

“That all depends on whether you’ll permit me to be seated,” he smiles as he waits for permission.

What a gentleman, I think wondering what he’s done with my panties.

“Please be seated,” I say and then add, “You don’t need my permission.”

He pulls the chair out and sits as I look at Ashley. She gives me a quick wink and then excuses herself from the table. I want to ask her to stay but it’s too late.

“Can I steal you from your busy schedule for a few more moments?”

“You may,” I reply.

“I have to say that you’ve truly outdone yourself with the immaculate planning and execution of this wedding. It’s fabulous.” Rick says lightly. His voice is confident. It has an authoritative but kind tone. One that says, I’m in charge and I know what I want. I get what I want too.

I catch the scent of his cologne again. It carries a hint of wood and it’s strong. Not in the sense that he has used too much, the scent is simply strong, powerful, masculine.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I say blushing again. I’m blushing between my thighs and I’m pretty sure he knows it. I squeeze my thighs together and feel how soaked I am. My blush deepens.

“A little birdie told me that you’re one of the top wedding planners in Los Angeles,” he says as he studies me.

“Well, I don’t concern myself with classifications. I simply do the best I can for my clients. They are important and it’s a very special day so they deserve the best.”

“That’s a very noble way of thinking. Very humble too.”

“Thank you,” I blush again. “Do you normally compliment women this much? You do know it works wonders, don’t you? I will add though that you had me under the tree. You don’t need to flatter me more.”

He smiles. “I’m not flattering you. I simply believe in giving credit where credit is due,” he smiles.

“Thank you again,” I incline my head towards him.

He leans closer and lowers his voice. “Can we put our earlier moment aside? There’s something else I want to talk to you about,” he says.

“What about?” I ask surprised.

“Well, you are one of the best at what you do whether you want to admit it or not. I believe I’m also one of the best at what I do and I was thinking that perhaps we could agree to collaborate.”

What? I ask myself. Did he just start to talk business? I start to feel deflated, disappointed. Cloud number nine is suddenly descending fast.

“I’m sure we can talk about collaborating. I have a big network of people already though,” I reply.

“I understand that but I provide a niche service,” he replies. “I doubt you have someone like me on your team. Very few wedding planners do.”

“Okay,” I respond. “What exactly is it that you do?”

Rick smiles and reaches into his jacket. He removes his wallet and takes out a business card. He returns his wallet to his jacket pocket and hands the card to me.

I take it but don’t look at it immediately. I am mesmerized by his moves. They seem so fluid, lithe is the word that comes to mind.

“I’m a lawyer,” Rick says.

His words hit me hard. A lawyer? What on earth…?

My brow furrows in confusion. “Why would I want to collaborate with a lawyer?” I don’t like lawyers for personal reasons and I can’t help the hint of irritation that creeps into my voice when I answer.

“Why?” he smiles and looks at me before continuing, “Well, many couples prefer to have prenups drawn up before they get married. Some even want a last will and testament. I do it all.”

I nod slowly. “Okay, that makes sense.”

“Of course,” he smiles. He sits forward and continues, “That’s just the beginning though.”

“What do you mean by ‘just the beginning’?”

“Well, there’s the divorce later.”

I am sipping my drink when he says it and it goes down the wrong hole. I cough and splutter as I put down the glass. When my coughing fit is done, I take another few sips so my voice can return to normal. “Divorce?” I say a little too loudly and the guests at the next table glance our way. I am disgusted and shocked.

“Yes, divorce,” he repeats.

In an instant, everything that happened between us earlier is wiped out. I feel like I have crossed into an alternate world.

“You do realize that this is one of the most beautiful days a couple will ever have in their lives?”

Rick nods. “Yes. One of the most beautiful days. It doesn’t last forever though. Life happens.”

“So, you assume every marriage is going to end in divorce sooner or later?” I ask incredulously. This time I keep my voice low enough so that the other guests don’t hear.

“Not all of them,” Rick replies. “But let me give you an idea of what I’m talking about. In California alone, divorce rates are estimated to be ten percent higher than the national average.”

“There is a national average for something as bad as divorce?” I ask in disgust.

“Yes. Would you like to guess what the national average is? It’ll make you wonder why ‘till death do us part’ is still being included in couples’ vows.”

“I don’t care to guess,” I reply.

“Well let me enlighten you then. The national average is fifty percent. That means in California it’s…”

“… sixty percent,” I finish in disgust. I feel my anger rising. “You are aware that this is a wedding reception?”

“Of course,” Rick replies. “What is your point?’

I ignore his question. “Are you for real? What have you done with the man who was in the garden a short while ago?”

Rick chuckles. “Cute. He’s right here.”

“What happened to the man who said, when our eyes met, I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame? How can you whisper such romantic things to me while you have such a skewed perception of marriage?”“It’s not skewed,” he replies. “Aren’t we all entitled to our opinions?”

“Sure, but why don’t you tell me where you see anything between us going if that’s your view of marriage?”

“Aren’t you taking things a bit fast? We haven’t even had our first date and you’re asking about ‘things between us’.

“I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression then,” I say as I struggle to suppress my anger. “You had an effect on me like no man I have ever known. Despite that my heart was telling me to cautious and I was telling it to shut up. I was throwing caution to the wind because I thought I felt something special with you. I guess I was wrong.”

“I beg to differ. You did feel something special. I felt it too.”

“No. I wasn’t thinking with my heart. I was thinking with the puddle between my legs. Dammit, you drove me wild with desire but that’s where it would end. Lust, desire, passion, sex. That’s all. Isn’t it? A one-night stand.”

Rick shook his head looking disappointed.

I’m on a roll now and I push on. “Do they even know that you’re peddling your services here?”

He studies me for a moment. “Look, perhaps we’re starting off on the wrong foot. All I am saying is that clients need lawyers when they get married and divorced. Just take my perspective of divorce out of it if you don’t like it and think about offering your clients a service they need. I do offer a commission for business introductions.”

“We have started on the wrong foot. Why would I work with someone who has such as skewed attitude towards one of the greatest days in a couple’s life?”

“We are all entitled to our own opinions, aren’t we?” Rick asks calmly. He doesn’t look so confident anymore but he’s not backing down.

“We are. I agree,” I say, sitting forward and looking into Rick’s eyes. I wonder why God makes assholes so attractive. Maybe it’s the only way they stand a chance in life. I want to ask him to give my panties back but I don’t. He’ll probably embarrass me and put them on the table for all to see. “I happen to believe in the beauty and magic of love and the blessedness of every wedding day that I help create for every client. I don’t think of what might happen in the future but you’re positively wishing divorce on couples before they’re even married and my opinion about that, is it’s abhorrent. I prefer to work with like-minded people, something that we, evidently are not.”

Rick sighs. “I’m sorry to hear that. My door’s always open to collaborating if you decide differently. It’s been a pleasure meeting you.” He smiles and winks as he gets up and leaves the table. I watch him go. His ass is perfect and his form is perfect. It’s a pity he’s such an asshole.

Ashley returns with a huge smile on her face. “Wow! He’s such a hunk! Did he ask you out?”

“No. He asked me to collaborate with him.” The disappointment in my voice is clear.

“Collaborate? In what way?”

I push his card over to Ashley. She picks it up and reads it. “Oh,” she says then asks, “Seriously?”

I nod as I try to continue eating my dinner. I’ve lost my appetite. I try not to look his way but find that as luck would have it, every time I look up, my eyes seem to find his.

I push my plate away and get up. “I’m going to check on the team,” I say. I want to be anywhere except where I’m going to meet his eyes again.

RICK

I sit down at my table again. My chat with Viola didn’t go the way I had hoped. I know I’ve blown what we started outside in the garden. I am disappointed. She has had an effect on me like no other woman and I still can’t stop looking at her.

She’s one of the best at what she does. I’m one of the best at what I do too.

I know if we collaborated it would be great. With her reputation in her industry, Viola attracts top-tier clients because of her reputation. My kind of clients. The wealthier they are, the bigger the divorce settlements are. Makes sense doesn’t it?

That aside, they can also pay for the best legal advice before they get married if we collaborate. This is what Viola failed to recognize. My commissions are good and she stands to make good money simply from a referral. Why should she even care what happens later down the road? If anything, she’s likely to get at least one repeat client if the couple divorces and they remarry later. They’ll probably call her for their next wedding. Hell, there’s even their children a generation from now who’ll be getting married. She can easily get the children’s weddings too depending on how close she stays to her clients after they get married. I’ll cut her in on all the business I get from a client she refers to me and I’ll even refer business her way too.

I keep looking at her. I can’t help it. I’m wondering what’s got her so upset about what I said. Maybe it was just the wrong time and I should have arranged to speak with her after the wedding or on a day when she wasn’t running a wedding reception.

There is another reason why I can’t stop looking at her. She is unbelievably beautiful. I don’t believe in love but she is my type. By my type, I mean confident, sassy, proud, sexy, independent. The kind that doesn’t have time for relationships but takes what she needs from men when she needs it. Just as I take from women what I need when I need it. I don’t have time for relationships. I also don’t believe in them.

She catches me looking at her again and she shifts uncomfortably in her chair then sits forward, putting up her hand to cut me from her view. She says something to Ashley and then pushes her plate away. She hasn’t finished her food. Then she gets up and leaves the room.

My gaze follows her as she heads for the door. The sway of her hips is accentuated perfectly by the figure-hugging outfit she is wearing. The high heels she is wearing add height to her form and her long, silken black hair bounces softly with every step she takes.

I touch her panties in my pocket and remember how good she smells. I’m instantly hard again as I think of our encounter earlier tonight in the garden.

She doesn’t know she’s a goddess. Perfect. I’ve seen her type many times before. I hunt for her type. I have the most fun with them. First, I show them how beautiful they are and make them realize the effect they have on men. I like to make them self-aware. When a woman like Viola becomes self-aware of her beauty and sexuality, it increases her beauty and sexuality. Stripping away her innocence and teaching her the ways of the world, my world actually, is what I enjoy most.

My interest in Viola is more than just business. Hell, if she gives me no business and just lets me tame her, I guess I can live with it. It would be a pity though.

I realize everyone else is standing and so I stand as a waiter passes with a tray of champagne glasses. I lighten his tray by taking a glass and look at the main table where the toasts are beginning. The happy couple is whispering and smiling as the MC talks and jokes. They seem happy and I wish them all the best. I really do. Not everyone divorces. I just want to plant the seed that I’m here if ever either of them should need me. It’s not asking much.

The toasts continue for a while and I glance over to where Viola was sitting but she hasn’t returned. Ashley is there and she’s not looking at me. The toasts finish and the band begins to play. People cross to the happy couple at the table and offer their congratulations. I join in and congratulate the happy couple. A short while later the couple steps out onto the dance floor for their first dance. I watch them move around the dance floor gracefully. They don’t say much as they dance. The groom is almost a head taller than the bride and while she presses her head against his chest he is looking around as if he is looking for someone.

They are joined on the dance floor by some of the guests and soon the floor is crowded with happy couples. When the wedding couple finishes their dance, they return to the table and the groom excuses himself. I assume he’s going to relieve himself. The bride watches him go before she is distracted by a guest.

With the festivities almost in full swing, I decide it’s almost time for me to leave. Weddings are not my favorite events, even less so when I am without a partner.

I decide to go and look for Viola and try to speak to her again before I leave. I grab myself another drink from a passing waiter and begin to make my way through the guests to the main garden.

I find Viola halfway between the reception area the main building. Her back is turned to me and she is speaking into her walkie-talkie. She finishes and turns around. She jumps back in surprise.

“Oh my God!” she exclaims. “You gave me such a fright!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I reply. I give her a moment to recover and then continue. “Look, I’m sorry for earlier. I think everything just came out wrong. Normally I can express myself quite clearly and I just don’t know what happened earlier…”

Viola is studying me coldly, “… I think you expressed yourself quite clearly back there Rick. You see the institution of marriage as an opportunity for future business, preying on the sorrow and anguish of others to make a living when that time comes, if ever. I have never met a lawyer like you. I’ve heard of, even seen ambulance chasers in action but this, you must have a hundred percent market share of your chosen niche…”

Viola breaks off as someone passes by. It’s the bride. She seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Trish, is everything okay?” Viola asks.

Trish barely stops and turns. “Yes. I just need the bathroom. I’ve waited too long already.”

“Okay. Don’t let me keep you,” Viola smiles.

Trish turns and continues her walk up to the main building.

Something in Trish’s manner tells me something is wrong. It’s not my wedding though and I am leaving anyway. Nevertheless, I decide to say something to Viola.

“I think somethings wrong with the bride…”

“So now you’re a doctor too?” Viola asks angrily in a low tone afraid that Trish might still be in earshot.

“No… I just want to help…”

“I don’t need your help, marriage killer. This is my wedding and I think everything’s going just fine…”

A woman’s shouts suddenly become audible from the main building. I can’t say for sure who it is but I have a pretty good idea.

Viola turns and runs for the main building. It takes me a moment before I follow her.

“Trish!” Viola calls as she runs to the building.

As we near the building the words of the woman’s shouts become clear.

“You… son… of… a… two… timing… bitch! And you! You… goddamn… damn… whore!”

Viola has entered the building with me in tow. She pushes her way through the crowd that has gathered already around the open bathroom door.

I follow Viola’s wake through the crowd and arrive at the front of the people just behind Viola. Trish is standing in front of the open bathroom door screaming at the groom whose pants are pooled around his ankles. He is still buried cock deep in the woman with him in the bathroom. I recognize the girl. Cherise. She is the bridesmaid. She looks away and exclaims to the groom, “Close the goddamn door, you idiot!”

He reaches to close it but can’t without slipping out of the bridesmaid and revealing himself to everyone watching.

Trish steps forward. She brandishes the cake knife threateningly, “You dare close this fucking door and I’ll cut your cock off you cheating son of a bitch!”

The groom, Eric, goes a deeper shade of red and tries to placate Trish, “Babe, I’m sorry. I am, I didn’t mean to…”

“Shut up!” Trish screams. “Shut up! Don’t try to sell me your lies!”

Viola takes Trish’s arm but she shrugs it off. Camera flashes are going off intermittently and the situation is becoming increasingly embarrassing for everyone. I step forward around Trish and I close the door. When I turn, Trish screams at me.

“Who the hell are you! Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not defending him,” I reply calmly but firmly as I step up to Trish. She does not resist as she lets me gently relieve her of the cake knife. I lower my voice, “It is embarrassing you and everyone.”

She looks up at me and bursts into tears as she collapses against me. I put my arms around her and support her as she is wracked by huge sobs. She tries to talk as she sobs and I cannot understand a word she is saying. Over her head, I meet Viola’s eyes which are looking at me with a mixture of fading anger and newfound respect. I hold Trish close as she continues to sob. Finally, a couple presses through the crowd and approaches us.

I recognize them as Trish’s parents.

“Thanks,” her father says. He gently takes her arm. “Honey, daddy’s here. It’s okay,” he says softly. Her father gently pries her loose from me and she turns to her father, hugs him, and continues sobbing.

“I’m sorry for what’s happened, sir. Truly sorry,” I say.

Her father nods, “Thank you,” he says again.

I remove a business card and hand it to Trish’s mother since her father’s hands are full holding Trish. Her mother takes the card, looks at it, and then at me. I don’t need to say anything. The message is clear.

“Thank you, Rick,” Trish’s mother says. I simply nod and then turn to leave.

When I turn, Viola is there. She is looking at me again with narrowed eyes. I can tell she’s angry.

I sidestep her and push my way through the crowd that has already started thinning.

I can feel Viola’s eyes on my back as I leave. I almost expect her to chase me down but I think she knows that wouldn’t be a good idea on so many fronts. In a way I want her to chase me down. I want to see her, talk to her, even argue with her as long as I get to speak to her again. She has no idea of the effect she has had on me.

I reach the lobby and give the valet my ticket. My car arrives soon enough and I leave.

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