Chapter 9
brIGGS
The chapel was not what I pictured. I’d been to plenty of weddings and none of them looked like what I was staring at. I honestly questioned the Uber driver. I was certain he took me to the wrong place.
I had pictured something small and white. Quaint. Traditional. But then I remembered I was in Vegas.
The building that was being generously called a chapel was mostly glass and modern architecture. It looked like a building you’d see in Manhattan in the future. There was an actual neon sign, keeping with the Vegas aesthetic.
I straightened my jacket, confirmed the contract was where I’d put it, and approached the entrance.
That’s when I saw her.
I stood there like an idiot, watching her.
She greeted a couple in their sixties by name with a genuine smile.
None of that fake enthusiasm I’d seen from event coordinators at other functions I’d been to.
She introduced them to an usher—a college-aged kid in a tux who looked nervous but professional—and sent them on their way with a smile.
Then she turned to an older woman dripping in diamonds.
I watched her face light up with recognition.
They embraced like old friends. Mandy said something that made the woman laugh, then gestured to another usher.
The whole exchange took maybe forty-five seconds, but it mattered.
She was personally greeting the guests. To the average person, it looked friendly.
But I knew she was checking the people against the guest list she probably had memorized.
I hung back and watched her work.
Another couple approached, younger this time. The man was vaguely familiar—probably someone I’d seen on television or in the news. Mandy greeted them with the same warmth. She was working the line like it was her own wedding and she knew everyone personally.
I knew she had noticed me. We hadn’t made eye contact, but she saw me out of her peripheral vision. I saw the second she noticed. But she was ignoring me.
It shouldn’t have bothered me. I was here to observe, after all. But it grated.
I was Briggs Blackwell. I flew across the country on short notice to be here. The least she could do was acknowledge my presence. Then again, she was working.
Maybe standing here and waiting was part of the lesson.
I moved off to the side to observe and keep from being seen. I wasn’t sure anybody would recognize me, but just in case. I didn’t want the attention to shift to me.
I tried not to notice how pretty she looked. Or the curves that were subtle in the dress, but definitely there. I tried not to notice the way the fabric moved around her legs. Tried not to notice that she looked even better than she had yesterday at breakfast.
Professional, I reminded myself. This is professional.
She finally glanced my way after the couple moved past her. Our eyes met and then, to my absolute shock, she held up a finger telling me to wait.
I had never been dismissed.
I wasn’t sure I liked it.
But I waited.
I was starting to see the choreography of the little dance she was doing.
The way she kept track of who’d arrived and who hadn’t without once looking at a clipboard.
It was crowd management. Traffic flow. Client relations.
All happening simultaneously, all while making it look like she was just being friendly.
She was making sure the guests saw her, liked her, and would think of her when they planned their own weddings.
Finally the flow of arriving guests slowed. Mandy said something to one of the ushers, who nodded and headed inside. Then she turned to me. I saw the first hint of tiredness around her eyes. But she was smiling.
“Mr. Blackwell,” she said, walking toward me. “You made it.”
“I said I would.”
She looked me over and clearly found my appearance satisfactory. “Ready?” she asked.
“For?”
“The big show,” she said.
She started walking toward the entrance, and I fell into step beside her. I caught the scent of citrus and vanilla. It was her shampoo or lotion or perfume. I didn’t know, but I liked it.
“How many people are you expecting?” I asked, because I needed to say something that wasn’t about how good she smelled.
“Three hundred for the ceremony. About two-eighty for the reception. Some people have flights to catch.”
“And you know all of them?”
She glanced at me, amused. “Not all of them. But I know the important ones. The bride’s family, the groom’s family, the VIPs who need special handling. The rest I can fake.”
“Special handling?”
“The senator who needs to be seated away from the tech CEO he’s currently investigating.
The actress who just went through a messy divorce and needs to be far away from her ex’s new girlfriend.
The venture capitalist who’s hard of hearing but too proud to admit it, so we seat him close to the front.
” She pushed open the chapel door. “It’s like a very expensive game of Tetris. ”
I followed her inside, and I didn’t know what I was expecting, but holy shit. It wasn’t what I was looking at now.
The chapel was stunning. So many flowers. It looked soft and romantic.
“Wow,” I said, because sometimes simple was best.
“Right?” Mandy’s voice had softened. “Victoria wanted something classic. Romantic but not cheesy. This is what we came up with.”
“You designed this?”
“I design the overall themes and tones and then I coordinate with everyone else to bring that vision to life,” she said, nodding.
“The florist designed the arrangements under my guidance, using my color palette and style. The lighting is all mine” She gestured around the space.
“This is what I do, Briggs. I take a bride’s dreams and turn them into reality.
And that’s just before the wedding. I also make sure that on the most important day of her life, she doesn’t have to worry about whether the flowers arrived or if the sound system works.
Her only job is to walk down the aisle and marry the man she loves. ”
I followed Mandy through the chapel, impressed by the vibes she had created.
She checked in with various people—the photographer, the officiant, someone who appeared to be coordinating the music.
Each conversation was brief but thorough.
She knew exactly what questions to ask and what information she needed.
I noticed the way she touched things as she passed. A slight adjustment to a flower arrangement. Straightening a ribbon on one of the pews. Nothing dramatic. I didn’t think a normal person would even notice. But she noticed. And she fixed them.
“The bride wanted a romantic atmosphere without being overly feminine,” she said without looking at me.
“Her fiancé is very masculine. She wanted him to feel comfortable too. So we went with white and blush instead of a true pink. Classic roses mixed with more modern orchids. It’s traditional.
But wait until you hear the music. Have you ever heard of Baz Luhrmann? ”
I nodded. “Of course. Romeo and Juliet. Moulin Rouge.”
“We did a little something like he does. I worked with a music producer to come up with a soundtrack that is classic and modern.”
“You did all of that?”
She finally looked at me. “That’s literally my job, Briggs. Understanding what the couple wants and making sure every single element reflects that vision.”
“The lighting,” I said, because I was genuinely curious now. “Is it candles?”
“Custom bulbs. Not candles. The fabric installation on the ceiling diffuses everything so it feels softer. No harsh shadows. Everyone will look amazing in photos, no Botox necessary.” She checked her watch. “We’ve got twenty minutes until the ceremony starts. I need to check on the bride.”
“Can I come?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You want to watch me talk to a bride?”
“No. I want to watch you work.”
She nodded. “Fine. But you stay in the hallway. Bride’s room is sacred territory, and right before the ceremony is when tension is highest.”
I followed her down a corridor to a room at the back of the chapel. She knocked once, then opened the door a crack. “Victoria? It’s Mandy. Can I come in?”
Mandy slipped inside. The door closed behind her, leaving me in the hallway like a kid sent to wait in the principal’s office. I pulled out my phone to check my emails, but I found myself listening instead. I could hear Mandy’s voice through the door. She was very calm and reassuring.
Two minutes later, the door opened and Mandy emerged. A woman in a wedding dress stood there with an older woman adjusting her veil. The bride was stunning, but I noticed she looked nervous.
“You’re going to be amazing,” Mandy said, squeezing the bride’s hand. “Bud is already out there, and he looks like he’s going to cry the second he sees you.”
Victoria laughed, a little watery. “Good. I want him to cry.”
“Oh, he will. Trust me. Your dad is waiting by the entrance. I’ll give you the cue when we’re ready. Deep breaths.”
“What should I do?” I asked as she walked back toward the chapel.
“Stay out of the way.”
“Rude.”
She snorted. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Are we still on that?” I sighed. “I thought me being here was my penance.”
“We haven’t even gotten started. Wait until the reception. That’s where the real party is. That’s when shit goes sideways.”
“How do you keep it from becoming a disaster?”
She stopped walking and looked at me. “You’ll see. And then you’re going to see why you want me signing that contract.”
I smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
And I was. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.
The ceremony itself was beautiful. I watched from the back, standing against the wall where I could see everything. Through it all, I watched Mandy.
She stood in the back near me, eyes constantly moving.
Checking the photographer’s positioning.
Watching the guests. Making sure everything flowed smoothly.
When one of the flower girls started to wander off, Mandy caught her attention with a smile and a subtle gesture, guiding her back to her seat without disrupting the ceremony.
It was impressive. She made it look effortless, but I was beginning to understand how much work went into a production like this.
When the ceremony ended and the couple walked back down the aisle to applause, Mandy was already moving. She directed the ushers, coordinated the family photos, and made sure the guests knew where to go for cocktail hour.
“The reception is at the Bellagio,” she said, appearing at my elbow. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes. I need to get over there and make sure everything is still good to go.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She looked at me for a moment, like she was trying to figure out if I was serious. “Okay. But we’re taking an Uber. I’m not dealing with the parking situation.”
We walked out into the Vegas heat, which hit me like a physical thing. It had to be over a hundred degrees. Mandy pulled out her phone and ordered a car without breaking stride.
“How are you not sweating?” I asked, because I could already feel my shirt sticking to my back.
“Practice,” she said. “And there’s no time to sweat.”
The Uber arrived, a black SUV that was blessedly cool inside. Mandy slid in first, and I followed. She immediately pulled out her phone and started typing.
“Problems?” I asked.
“Just confirming everything is ready. My job is to fix any issues before anyone notices.”
Her fingers flew over the screen. She was in her element, completely focused. This was why Adrian had spent months convincing her to partner with us. I was beginning to understand.
“You do this often?” I asked. “Vegas weddings?”
“Few times a year. It’s a good market, lots of money, lots of high-profile clients. But I prefer LA. I know the vendors there. I know the venues. Vegas is fun, but it’s always a little more complicated.”
“Because of the location?”
“Because everyone wants to party.” She finally looked up from her phone. “In LA, people want beautiful and elegant. In Vegas, they want beautiful and elegant and also bottle service until four in the morning. It’s a different energy.”
The Uber pulled up to the Bellagio. Mandy was out of the car before it fully stopped. I followed, catching up to her as she strode through the casino floor like she owned the place.
I noticed people watching her. Men mostly but some women too. She was beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. She moved with confidence and purpose. She knew where she was going and she didn’t hesitate.
We reached the ballroom entrance, and Mandy stopped.
She turned to me, her expression serious.
“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to check everything one more time before the guests arrive.
You can shadow me, but don’t touch anything.
Don’t annoy me with a bunch of questions.
I just need to focus. We can talk after. ”
“Understood.”
“Good.” She pushed open the doors. “Welcome to the main event.”
I stepped inside and stopped.
Holy shit.