3
I laugh. “No way. Then I’d be too busy to kick your coordinator’s butt. Now go!”
“Okay. Thank you so much, Lucy. Thank you!”
My smile disappears as Macy hangs up. A message pops up with the coordinator’s contact information.
“Melanie,” I read aloud. I tap the number and call her, trying to keep my scowl from appearing in my tone.
A few rings later, a languid voice answers.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Melanie?”
“Yes,” she answers, sounding annoyed. “Who’s this? How’d you get my number?”
“I’d like to know why you aren’t at my friend Macy’s wedding right now.”
She takes a few seconds before responding with an awkward laugh. “Oh… was that today?”
“Yes, it was today. And you’d better have a fantastic reason as to why you aren’t there right now doing what you were paid to do.”
“I… I came down with a flu,” she says, clearly lying through her teeth. “So I didn’t think I should risk getting anyone else sick.”
“Really? The flu?”
“…Yes?”
I sigh. “So, is that same flu the reason you never placed an order for catering? And is it also why you didn’t bother calling Macy and letting her know you’d be out sick?”
“Well… I… I didn’t—”
“Listen, Melanie,” I say, trying to keep my frustration in check, “I don’t care what your excuse is. You made a commitment to attend Macy’s wedding as the coordinator, and she paid you up front for that. If you can’t make it, you need to find someone who can replace you this instant. I’m going to solve the catering problem right now, and when I get to the venue, someone had better be there ordering people around with a clipboard, even if it’s you in a hazmat suit. Do you understand?”
“Um… yes. I understand.”
“Good. Now get to it.”
I hang up, shaking my head as I make another call. The phone rings just once when a heavily accented Italian man’s voice answers.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Gio!”
“Lucy!” I can hear his wide smile through the phone. “What can I do for my favorite customer? A late lunch order for Monica?”
“Actually, I have a personal favor to ask. A big one.” I hold my breath, hoping with all my might Giovanni won’t hang up at my massive request.
“A personal favor? What is it?”
“Well… a friend of mine is getting married tonight, but her wedding coordinator bailed and never placed an order for catering. I was wondering… if I place an order with you, could you possibly have the food ready for pickup by six thirty?”
I pause a moment, but I’m only answered with silence.
“I’ll pick it up myself as usual. I know you won’t be able to spare staff to bring it on a Friday night.”
“How many people?” Gio’s voice is significantly less cheery now.
I wince as I answer. “Sixty…”
There’s another moment of silence, then I hear him speaking Italian with someone else in a gruff tone. Finally, he addresses me again.
“We can do it. But only this once, for you.”
“Ah! Gio, you’re a total lifesaver!”
“It will be simple food,” he says, though he sounds a little less frustrated. “Nothing fancy.”
“It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s edible,” I laugh, totally relieved.
“As long as… Hey! You insult my food? Giovanni’s is the best Italian restaurant in town! Everything we make is authentic! Even plain pasta tastes fantastic!”
“You’re right!” I scramble to correct my mistake. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I promise! It was just a joke.”
“Hmmph. Fine. Be here at six thirty. I will help you load your car.”
“Thank you!”
I’m grinning as I hang up, though my work isn’t quite done. I need to enlist some help to get the food unloaded and setup. Since it’ll be during the wedding, everyone else who could help will be busy. I need another one of the guests who isn’t in the wedding party and won’t mind missing some of the reception…
I jump as someone taps on my window.
“Jeremiah!” My eyes light up as it clicks. He steps back and I hop out of the car.
“Leaving early today?” He asks.
“I need your help! You’re going to Macy’s wedding, right?”
He blinks at me a few times, probably overwhelmed by my intense demeanor. “Um, yeah. Why, what’s up?”
I hurriedly explain the situation, and he nods along. As I finish, he scratches the back of his neck.
“So you need me to go with you to pick up the food and then help set it up?”
“Yes, please. In return, I’ll buy you lunch any day you want next week.”
He sighs. “That’s what you say every time I save your rear. I want something else this time.”
“Fine, what do you want? A puppy? A lifetime supply of soda? What?”
He stares at me for a few moments, then just shakes his head. “It’s fine. Besides, Macy is the one who’d owe me something, anyway.”
“Don’t you go bugging her about this,” I say, jabbing his arm. “She’s already had enough stress as it is.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he shrugs. “So, we’ll leave the reception at six fifteen to go pickup the food?”
“Mhm. Thank you so much. Again. I don’t know how you do it, but you always show up just in time.” I move to get back in my car, but Jeremiah stops me.
“Well… if we’re leaving to pick up the food together, do you wanna just… ride there together, too? I could pick you up.”
I hesitate. “I mean, I’m going home to get ready, then I was going to go early to help the coordinator. If you don’t mind going early too, then—”
“Yeah, that works for me.”
My eyebrows rise in surprise. Jeremiah usually doesn’t like parties or events, and he especially doesn’t like going early. But, right now, he actually seems happy.
“Um… okay, sure. That would make things easier for me anyway. I need to fix a problem with Monica’s email, and if you’re driving, it’ll give me time.”
“Right. Text me when you’re about ready to leave, okay?”
I nod, opening the door to my car. “Thanks, Jeremiah.”
My phone buzzes as I receive a response from Fred about his availability next week. I get him on Monica’s calendar, then send another text to Macy, letting her know Melanie will be there and the food is taken care of. I turn the key in the ignition and start driving to the bank to deposit the checks for Monica while simultaneously placing a call to the support number for the web hosting company her email goes through.
I’ve been working for Monica for four years now. I’ve definitely improved. I make way fewer mistakes, and I’m much better at staying calm, but I do still get overwhelmed sometimes. Monica consistently presents me with tasks that stretch me and force me to learn new things or think differently. I’m always out of my comfort zone, always feeling in over my head, always out of time and always on call. Many days, I still feel like I have no idea what I’m doing.
But, just like Fred said, I’ve gotten darn good at pretending I do.
Jeremiah follows behind me into the venue. We managed to arrive about forty-five minutes early, which isn’t as early as I’d wanted, but my hair was being its usual frustrating self and took forever to curl.
I glance around and spot a young girl who I assume to be Melanie standing in a corner with a clipboard, speaking with someone else I assume to be Macy’s mother. As I walk over to them, Macy’s mom walks away, and Melanie looks up at me, her features tense.
“Can I help you?” She asks.
“I see you didn’t need a hazmat suit,” I say.
She freezes, her eyes growing wide as she blushes. “Um… so you’re the one who called me?”
Looking at her now, I feel a little guilty about how I spoke to her on the phone. She may be eighteen, but she looks even younger than that, and clearly, she’s stressing out right now.
“I’m here to help,” I say, trying to sound gentler. “What do you need?”
She blinks at me, then glances at Jeremiah beside me before turning her clipboard toward us.
“The tables were all set up wrong,” she explains, pointing to the chart. “We need eight round tables in the middle here, then two long tables in the back. We also need two long tables on the stage for the bride and groom, and the bridal party. And the centerpieces haven’t been set out yet.”
I nod, then glance at Jeremiah. He sighs, looking disinterested. “Fine, I’ll fix the tables. Where are they?”
“Back there.”
As Jeremiah shuffles off, I turn back to Melanie. “Let’s handle the centerpieces.”
She nods. “Okay.”
Working together, we manage to finish fixing the reception area just before the ceremony is about to start.
“I have to go direct the bridal party,” Melanie says, already rushing off, then she pauses. “You… took care of the catering?”
I nod. “The food will be here. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
Jeremiah walks over to me, hands in his pockets. “Should we go in?”
“Yeah, hopefully we can sit down before they all start walking down the aisle.” My phone buzzes again and I pull it out of my purse. This maroon dress I’m wearing is my favorite, but I really wish it had pockets.
It’s a text from Monica. “Is my email fixed?”
I type out a quick response. “It should be. If not, let me know.”
Three dots bounce for awhile, then a thumbs up emoji appears. I glance up to see Jeremiah watching me.
“Okay,” I say as I put my phone away, “let’s go get our seats.”
The music starts just as we sit down. The room is full of smiling faces and teary eyes. I can’t help but smile too, though a pang does roll through my chest.
I’ve been so busy since taking this job as Monica’s PA that my time for a personal life, much less dating, has been nonexistent. Several of my friends have gotten married the past few years, some have bought houses, and some have even started having kids. I’m still single, living with two roommates in a small, overpriced apartment. It’s difficult not to feel behind in life, and maybe even afraid, especially since I still don’t know what it is I really want to do…
The doors open, and my thoughts snap back to the present. The bridal party starts walking down the aisle arm in arm. The bridesmaids’ dresses are beautiful, a soft lilac color, complimented by flowers adorning their hair.
My attention is pulled away by my phone buzzing in my purse. I pull it out to some texts from Monica. She and Gina are having trouble with the livestream.
I text Monica detailed instructions on what to do, trying to do so as quickly as possible so I don’t miss Macy’s entrance. I feel Jeremiah’s gaze on me again. As I send the text, he nudges me with his elbow. I glance up to see Macy coming through the doors. We all stand, and my throat constricts.
“She’s gorgeous,” I whisper.
Jeremiah looks back at me. “Are you crying?” He’s smirking, obviously finding my emotion amusing.
I kick him and keep watching as Macy walks down the aisle. When she passes us, she locks eyes with me and mouths “Thank you.” I smile back. Macy and Jeremiah are the two reasons I made it through those first six months as Monica’s PA, and why I continue to make it. They’ve helped me out so much. I’m glad I could be there for Macy today.
Macy reaches the front, and we all sit down. As the ceremony starts, I look over at the bridesmaids. There are only two, but I don’t recognize either of them. I look at the groomsmen next. Again, there are only two. I don’t recognize the second one, but the first is…
The air whooshes from my lungs as my eyes grow wide.
It’s Scott.
My mouth falls slightly open. It’s been almost six years since that day I said goodbye to him at the café. He’s filled out, no longer the scrawny kid he was back then. His shoulders are broader now, and he seems more mature, more self assured. His dark brown hair is styled nicely, with the sides and back short and the top long. And man alive, does he look good in a tux.
Scott is smiling, watching Macy and Jacob. Suddenly, his gaze shifts, locking with mine. His eyebrows rise in surprise, then he grins, smiling as brightly as I remember.
My heart leaps in my chest, and my stomach turns. After all this time, I thought I’d gotten over my crush on him. I guess I was wrong.
I smile back, caught off guard. Scott waggles his eyebrows at me, and I shake my head, concealing a laugh as I point at Macy and Jacob, trying to tell him to pay attention. He smiles once more, then turns back to them.
My cheeks are blazing, and I’m sure I’m as red as a tomato. I take a breath, squeezing my hands together to keep them from trembling.
Get ahold of yourself, Lucille.
Jeremiah nudges my arm again, and I lean over as he whispers. “What was that?”
I shake my head. “I’ll tell you later.”
He moves back in his seat, crossing his arms.
Try as I might, it’s hard to focus on Macy rather than Scott.
“So, who was that guy? You know him?”
I look at Jeremiah, who was assigned to the same table as me for the reception. He seems annoyed; though, that’s not uncommon for him.
“His name is Scott. We used to work together at the café before he left to work for a family friend in North Carolina. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
“He’s just a friend?”
I furrow my brows. “What are you so mad about?”
Jeremiah frowns and downs the drink in front of him. “Nothing.”
I stare at him for a few more moments, then look around for Melanie. She’s standing in the corner, biting her nails.
“I’m gonna go see if Melanie needs help,” I say. Jeremiah nods, avoiding my gaze by staring at his glass.
I head to the corner and wave at Melanie, who responds with obvious relief.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She flips through the schedule on her clipboard. “Um, I think so. The bridal party and the bride and groom are all with the photographer and videographer right now. At five, the bridesmaids and groomsmen will come back and mingle, while the bride and groom stay with the photographer and videographer until five forty-five or so. Dinner was supposed to be at six, but…” she shakes her head. “Well, now it’s at seven, so I’m not sure what we’re going to do while we wait.”
I chew my lip for a minute, then point at the schedule. “How about we move speeches up before dinner, once the bride and groom are back? I know it’s not really how things usually go, but it should buy us time.”
Melanie nods. “I can check with Macy’s mom.”
“Sure,” I nod. “And there are plenty of appetizers and drinks. The guests will understand.”
“Okay. And what about dinner?”
“I had to get Italian,” I say, glancing at the time. “I’m picking it up at six thirty with Jeremiah’s help. We’ll need help unloading and setting up.”
Melanie nods. “I’ll find a few other people to help.”
“Sounds good.”
Melanie walks off to speak with Macy’s mom, and I head back to the table. Jeremiah is talking with Jacob’s sister. He glances over and points at me.
She smiles. “You’re Lucy, right?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s great. Macy just wants to talk to you, so I came to get you. I’m Gabriella, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you.” I smile and shake her hand, then glance over at Jeremiah. “I’ll be back.”
He nods, plopping back down in his chair. Apparently, he hates weddings even more than I thought.
I follow Gabriella outside to the area where the bridal party is taking photos. Currently, Jacob and his two groomsmen are lined up for a photo. My heart skips a beat at the sight of Scott. Just as he notices me, my attention is pulled elsewhere by a cry from Macy.
“Lucy!”
She rushes over and crushes me in a hug. For someone so small, she’s surprisingly strong.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re my hero!”
I laugh, squeezing her in return. She lets go and steps back, beaming at me.
“You look stunning,” I say, feeling my eyes well up again. “How are you feeling?”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “I have no idea. I feel like I’m dreaming and none of this is real…” Her smile softens as she glances over at Jacob. “But it is real.”
“I’m so happy for you, Macy.”
She smiles at me again, then the photographer calls her over. She squeezes my hand before rushing off. Macy’s mom comes to thank me as well, and we chat for a few minutes about Macy and the wedding. After a while, she turns to go inside and mingle with guests. I move to follow, but stop as someone calls my name.
“Lucy!”
I turn to see Scott jogging toward me. It seems like the groomsmen photos are finished, and the photographer is grouping up the bridesmaids now.
My heart beats faster, and I (embarrassingly) feel myself starting to sweat as he catches up to me.
“Hey,” he smiles, coming to a stop in front of me. “Long time no see.”
I smile back, stuttering a bit. “I… didn’t know you’d be here.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here either.”
I stare up at him. He’s definitely matured. He’s grown. There’s stubble on his face, and his voice is a little deeper. But his eyes are the same green eyes that always made my breath catch. When Scott talks to you, it’s as if you’re the only person in the world. At least, that’s how I used to feel when we worked together.
“I heard you saved the day,” he says, his grin somehow growing impossibly wider.
I shake my head. “Not really. All I did was bully a defenseless eighteen-year-old and order some Italian food.”
Scott laughs, and my nerves lessen a little bit.
“Hey, you missed our date, by the way.”
“Our date…?” I frown, unsure what he means, then it hits me. My eyes widen in realization. “Oh!” I stare up at him in disbelief. “Wait, you actually remembered? Did you really go to the café that day?”
He nods. “Of course I did. I promised you I wouldn’t forget.”
My heart drops. I feel like a jerk. “Oh my gosh, Scott, I’m so sorry. I thought for sure you would have forgotten, or been too busy, or…”