Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
To Do:
- Background check on Nicole’s obstetrician
- Call ice cream shop
- Review West Coast applicants
Dinner with her father had left Claire in a heightened state of stress. She had woken up that morning in the walk-in closet, one leg in a pair of Luke’s cargo shorts while carrying a footlong dill pickle. If she wasn’t careful, the sleepwalking was going to get out of hand again.
The air conditioning in the corner of the warehouse cranked noisily. It was only ten a.m., but the temperature had already hit the eighties.
Claire gripped the edge of the whiteboard and flipped it over, revealing notes on the upcoming Los Angeles proposal. Less than five weeks separated them for what promised to be the biggest, splashiest project of their entire career. That needed to be her focus; not whatever retaliation may or may not be coming from ESA.
“Did we get a response from the city about the permit?” She held her breath.
Mindy smirked. “Yes, as of this morning, we officially have a permit.”
All the breath rushed out of her lungs. “You should have led with that. Thank god.”
Mindy slid a pen into her topknot and leaned forward. “I can’t believe you convinced the city of Los Angeles to let you change the Hollywood sign.”
Claire smiled. “Only for one evening. Well, until Brad inevitably changes his mind.”
“Brad,” Mindy muttered with a groan.
“I’m going to start adding an extra dollar to our hourly consulting fee every time he alters the plan.”
Much like the groom-to-be, every part of the proposal had been a colossal pain in the ass.
Brad was Claire’s first (and if things continued to be this vexing, only,) non-local client. He had hounded her and the business for months following her kidnapping, offering larger and larger sums of money. She had only given in because he was Luke’s friend. But his proposal grew more elaborate every day. Normally a proposal fit neatly into one three-ring binder. Brad’s spanned six.
His bride-to-be was Karen Rager, a forty-year-old accountant for a Los Angeles hospital. Despite the memefication of her first name, she was a sweet, level-headed, lovely woman who ran charity 5ks and volunteered for Habitat for Humanity. It would be a second marriage for both of them. She grounded Brad, a fifty-year-old movie producer.
“It still bothers me that we couldn’t observe them on a date,” Claire muttered. Happily Ever Afters had a rigid screening process involving intense social media stalking, sweeping for online dating profiles, background checks, and more. Being three thousand miles away from their latest couple had forced her to compromise.
Mindy whipped the pen out of her hair and chucked it at Claire. “Hey. Not everyone is a serial killer. Luke vetted him. You trust Luke, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. So let’s go over the order one more time. First, lunch at the restaurant where they had their first date.”
“Check. Solar Flare. Pre-planned four-course lunch. They’ll be the only ones on the outer deck of the restaurant. The chef confirmed the menu last week.”
Claire put a checkmark next to Solar Flare on the whiteboard. “Great. Then, a limo ride to the Santa Monica Pier, where they will play Skee-Ball and then ride the Ferris wheel, where the bucket truck containing the a cappella quartet will serenade them at the top.”
Mindy smiled broadly and clasped her hands. “Amazing. Then the gardens with the ice cream cones?”
“Yes, then they’ll go to the Getty Gardens where an associate will deliver the absurdly expensive and obscure ice cream from Karen’s hometown in New Jersey.”
“And by an ‘associate,’ you mean you?”
“Probably,” Claire conceded.
“Great. Then the horses?”
Claire nodded and pointed to the board. “I’m guessing the Los Angeles traffic will make the trip to the ranch excruciatingly long, which is why they’ll be in the limo with a bottle of champagne and Karen’s favorite movie.”
“You really think she won’t be suspicious with all this trouble?” Mindy lifted her eyes from her tablet. One brow arched skyward.
Claire shrugged. “It’s their dating anniversary, and Brad has a long history of over-the-top dates.”
“’Kay. So, the horses,” Mindy prompted again.
“Yes. They will then have a horseback ride through the hills of Los Angeles, culminating in their arrival at the base of the Hollywood sign at sunset where Brad will propose, surrounded by their friends and family and a lovely catered dinner. The props company we contacted sent confirmation that the letters are finished. They are each fifty feet tall, solar-powered and self-lit, not to mention insanely expensive. They will be dropping them in front of the existing Hollywood letters by helicopter on the evening of the proposal.”
Mindy let out a low whistle. “This is insane.”
“I know, right?” Claire whispered. Brad’s proposal was already quadruple the cost of any they’d done before.
“So basically,” Mindy said slowly, “the number of things that could go wrong is exponential.”
“Exactly.”
“Got it. Starting a new document for contingency plans.” Mindy tapped on her tablet, then looked up. “What about backup transportation? You know, in case the limo breaks down or there’s traffic gridlock?”
Claire pressed her lips together. If that happened, she would murder someone. “I reached out to a private helicopter tour company. I’m still waiting on the quote, though I don’t think Brad will care what it is.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t suggest a helicopter himself.”
“Same. Don’t mention it to him. We’re going to need a hell of a vacation after this. I wonder how long of a flight it is from LAX to Maui.”
Mindy flipped the cover on her tablet shut. “You haven’t taken a single vacation since we started the company.”
“I know.”
Aside from a few long weekend trips, Claire hadn’t really taken any time off in a very long time. She had a million excuses—business was booming, her clients needed her. But really it was the stillness that she couldn’t tolerate. As her new therapist had so helpfully pointed out, she had always thrown herself into work to avoid what was going on in her personal life.
She worked long hours in the early days of Happily Ever Afters to ignore the fact that her relationship with her fiancé was crumbling. She plowed through Nicole’s proposal with singular determination after Jason cheated on her at her awards ceremony. Even focusing on Barney’s proposal helped her forget that she had had to cancel her wedding.
Brad was annoying, but he certainly did a great job of distracting her from the trauma of the past year. As long as she kept moving, the ghosts of her past left her alone. But in the stillness, she was vulnerable. Nightmares and intrusive thoughts reminded her she was never truly safe. ESA was still out there, and now they were targeting her sister.
“Don’t you have an appointment?” Mindy asked, glancing at the large, rustic-styled clock on the wall.
“I don’t think—oh. Therapy.” Claire deflated. Speak of the devil. “I guess I better get going. Come, Rosie.”
She had conceded to therapy after developing a dangerous sleepwalking habit that culminated in her driving five miles while unconscious and spray-painting the side of a fraternity house full of homicidal misogynists. Sawyer, Mindy’s boyfriend, had offered the services of his mother, Dr. Bernice Goulding. The sleepwalking hadn’t entirely gone away, but at least it hadn’t gotten worse.
“Mindfulness, girl,” Mindy teased as Claire walked down the long aisle full of proposal props they stored, shuffling around a replica of the Eiffel Tower.
Claire groaned.