Chapter 15 – Katie
Fifteen
KATIE
The Jordan & Megan Powell Wedding
Clayton House
Scottsdale, Arizona
“My mother-in-law hates dogs.” The bride-to-be looked at me. “Can you make sure Piper and Penelope are nowhere near here today?”
“Of course.” I nodded and bit my tongue. I’d handled this issue already, and this was her twelfth time mentioning it this morning.
Well, twentieth time if I counted yesterday’s mentions…
“And for some reason, my cousin Winona is claiming she lost her luggage and all she has left is a white dress for the ceremony.”
“We have plenty of alternate dresses in our wardrobe closet,” I said. “If she or anyone else shows up in anything close to white, security will direct her away to change.”
“Thanks.” She wrung her hands so hard they reddened.
As she paced the suite, her veil floated against the floor.
My eyes fixated on a loose bead.
Madison, tell one of the interns to bring a sewing kit up to the bridal suite. STAT.
Madison
On it. They’ll slide it under the door.
I focused my attention on the bride’s hair, making sure not a strand was out of place when she suddenly stepped in front of me.
“Are you ready to let in the bridesmaids and put on your dress?” I asked.
“Yes and no.”
“The answer can’t be both…”
“My fiancé asked me to sign the worst prenup in the world last night,” she said.
“I honestly thought it was a joke when I read all the terms, but he had his lawyer call and ask if I needed help understanding anything between the ‘can’t gain any more than five pounds during the marriage’ and the ‘sex must happen at least six times a week’ clauses. ”
I blinked.
“There’s even a clause about how I’m required to get Botox whenever my wrinkles appear…”
My heart sank. I had no idea what to say.
Worse, I couldn’t bear to fake a smile and tell her it was “just nerves,” or “calm down, he’s the one,” like I usually did.
“I mean, I get it. He’s wealthy as hell and everyone has expectations, but…” She tapped her lip. “We’ve been together six years, and I did gain a little weight a few years ago, but… I honestly thought he loved me for me.”
“Okay, there.” She leaned closer to me. “So?”
“So, what?”
“Give me your thoughts,” she said. “This is your lane.”
“No, no, no…” I could barely hear my voice. “Weddings are my lane. I don’t know anything about relationship stuff, honestly.”
“Relationship stuff?” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure you can give more fairytale and villain stats like the ones you spouted off to get us to sign you for our big day.”
“I think you should call in your friends and family to discuss this situation.”
“My friends aren’t here.” She shook her head. “They all despise him and always said he wasn’t the right guy for me… And I paid my cousin to come here so I wouldn’t be completely alone.”
“What about your bridesmaids?” I asked. “I thought—”
“They’re all from his side of the family.” Her voice cracked. “Minus the two that are influencers. We’re paying them to promote his champagne brand on Instagram.”
“I wouldn’t be upset if the prenup was actually fair, but… I’ve lost so much of my life for him already, and I can’t afford to give up control of what’s left.”
Tears rolled past her cheeks, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sewing kit scooting under the door.
“What should I do?” she asked. “He’s demanding that I sign the prenup before the ceremony, and…”
She didn’t finish her sentence.
“Okay.” I pressed a Kleenex against her face, dabbing her tears. “Give me a few minutes to think, but before I do that… On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the highest, how close are you to not wanting to marry Jordan anymore?”
“Fifty.”
“Very well.” I walked over to the window and pulled out a chair. “Sit here and let me figure out a way to handle this.”
She obliged, and I stepped into the adjoining suite. I grabbed a pillow from a chaise and screamed into it.
WHYYYY? WHYYYY? WHYYYY?
I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t imagining this, and I didn’t feel any pain at all.
Maybe I am?
I looked out the window to see staff setting up the hot chocolate bar—another sign of “have to be dreaming,” but then I felt beads of sweat forming on my brow.
And the pain from my hard pinch slowly began to sting.
“Okay, fine,” I said to myself. “This is happening, and it’s fine.”
My options over the next couple of hours were limited.
A) Immediately alert my staff to code red and start preparing for damage control with the venue and every arriving guest.
B) Do nothing and let her fend for herself.
C) Make a call to the most loathsome person in my contacts and ask for help with this.
It took me five seconds to settle on option A.
I began typing a text to my team, but before I could finish, a new message crossed my screen.
Megan
While you’re thinking about this… Here are some pictures of the prenup pages. In case you think I was exaggerating. [image] [image] [image]
I clicked on the first one.
“The wife is entitled to no properties upon marriage nor in the event of a divorce. She will receive a generous monthly allowance that can be adjusted and/or withheld upon her completion of her monthly duties.”
I didn’t need to read anything else.
I swallowed my pride and opted for Option C.
I scrolled to Asher’s business number and took a deep breath before calling.
It rang once.
It rang twice.
“This is Asher speaking,” he answered on the third ring. “Who are you, and how did you get this number?”
“I’m someone who despises you, and you gave this number to me.”
“So, you deleted my other one?”
“No…”
“Well, that’s good to know.” There was a smile in his voice. “Let me guess. You’re ready to bury the hatchet and let me show you what good sex is?”
“Ugh, no!” I scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’d ever be desperate enough to call you for that?”
“Yes.” He let out a low laugh that sent butterflies fluttering in my chest. “And I would never judge you for it.”
“Get real.” I waved a hand. “I’m calling because I need a huge favor, and you’re the only one who can help me with it.”
“I’m listening.”
“I need you to ruin a wedding.”
“Come again?”
“This marriage can’t happen, okay? The bride cannot marry this guy, and I’m her only hope to get out of it.”
“I see.” He paused. “When is the wedding scheduled for?”
“Today.”
Silence.
“Hello?” I asked. “Hello?”
“I don’t usually work on short notice,” he said. “It takes me months to prepare, and I usually know one side of the couple or some of the reasons they want out.”
“The groom is a misogynistic asshole who wants her to sign a prenup with weight gain and sex clauses.” The words rushed out of my mouth. “Her entire family hates him so much that they’re not even here…”
“Say less,” he said. “Where are you right now?”
“Scottsdale, Arizona.”
“Which venue?”
“Clayton House.”
“How many hours before showtime?”
“Four.”
“And she hasn’t signed the prenup, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, good to know,” he said. “I’ll handle it.”
“Handle it how?”
“It’s best if you don’t know the details. Just trust me.”
“Okay… Well, what should I tell Megan in the meantime?”
“Nothing. Pack her bags and get her to the airport without being seen by any of the guests,” he said. “I’ll call you back when my work is done.”
“Oh. Well, um… Thank you.”
“You can hold that for later.” The smile in his voice returned. “You officially owe me.”
He ended the call before I could say another word.
Slipping into the bridal suite, I saw Megan pacing the floor again.
“Well?” she asked. “Are you going to help me?”
“Yes.” I nodded and took off my blazer. Then I unzipped my pants.
“You’re going to put on my clothes, ditch the veil, and then take the freight elevator to the ski rental level,” I pushed my pants to the floor. “You’re going to get into the grey SUV that has the ‘Happily Ever After’ Events tag on it, and tell the driver to take you to the airport.”
“My staff will pack up your room in the meantime and meet you within the next forty minutes.”
“Thank you.” She pulled me into a hug, crying. “Thank you so much…”
* * *
Later that night, Asher called me and I answered on the first ring.
“Hello?” I said.
“The words I was hoping to hear are ‘Thank you, Asher.’”
“Thank you, Asher.” I sat up on my bed. “Truly.”
“Did she manage to get on the flight before the groom left the resort?”
“She did,” I said.
“I’d like to cash in on my ‘IOU’ now,” he said.
“That’s quick…”
“I want two things.”
“Let me hear them before I agree.”
“One, my assistant wants a personal session and a custom gown from your mom’s bridal shop.”
“She’s getting married?”
“No…She just wants to have the dress in her closet for whenever the time comes.” He paused. “She’s almost as delusional as you are.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, and that’s an easy deal. What’s the second thing?”
“It’s more like a promise to ‘tell me when’ type of thing.”
“Tell you what?”
“Whenever you finally break up with Brad.”
“If that ever happens, that doesn’t mean anything for you. You don’t date, remember?”
He let out a low laugh that sent tingles up and down my spine, that made me remember the feel of his mouth against my neck.
“Just promise that you’ll tell me,” he said. “Preferably within the same week, but I’ll accept a month.”
“Deal,” I said. “Have your assistant call my shop whenever she’s ready to schedule her dress.”
“Will do.”
“These small favors don’t change anything between us, by the way.”
“I’m well aware.” He hung up, taking the last word with him.