Chapter 8 Bridezilla Strikes Again
brIDEZILLA STRIKES AGAIN
Addie
Addie read Naiomi Cross’s intake questionnaire for the sixth time and hoped an idea would spring into her head. Any idea. At this point, she’d take a bad one over a good one because at least with a bad one, she could take it to Maxi or Bails with a doe-eyed, Help me make it better.
Formulating an attack plan shouldn’t be this difficult. She’d orchestrated countless vow exchanges, and Nai’s list, although slim, didn’t include any bizarre requests. No performing aerialists. No guest photo with a Hydra. Everything appeared basic and straightforward.
And that was the damn problem.
Nothing about the intake form screamed Naiomi Cross, the woman who’d created a wedding journal before she even hit double digits, and trying to solve the puzzle brought on a pounding headache that ibuprofen didn’t touch.
Her lack of sleep the night before sure as hell didn’t help. Despite drinking a gallon of Sleepytime tea, taking a lavender-infused bath, and turning her sound machine onto the ultra-sleep setting, sleep still evaded her.
What she hadn’t dodged were her thoughts of a certain sexy drummer and the ridiculous FAMA contract still sitting on her coffee table.
She’d thought the fauxmance thing a bad idea right from the start, but the second they started talking about public dates and pearls, the idea morphed from bad to potentially volatile.
Kids drama camp aside, where she’d been relegated to Tree #3, she hadn’t acted a day in her life.
Hell, her father claimed she was the least talented liar he’d ever come across when she once feigned a stomachache with the hope of getting out of a math test. If she couldn’t fake food poisoning, what made her think she could fake being in love?
“A chamomile tea with lemon for you.” Bailey slid a tall mug across the table toward Addie and took the empty seat on Maxi’s left. “And vanilla mocha fraps with four extra espresso shots for me and Max.”
Addie frowned. “I need caffeine. Not relaxation.”
“Pretty sure you’ve hit your daily caffeine limit.” Bailey shot a pointed look to her knee, bouncing beneath the table.
“Last meeting for tomorrow rescheduled, and to say the clients weren’t happy would be an understatement.” Maxi groaned from behind her laptop. “I still don’t understand how we missed the landlord’s fumigation notice.”
Addie shrugged. “It happens. We’ve all been a little preoccupied.”
When they found out they needed to vacate the HEF building for two days, Bailey sweet-talked the coffee shop owner around the block into letting them commandeer one of their back corner tables. But despite the hipster ambiance and flowing caffeine stream, work progress dragged at a snail’s pace.
In deep concentration, Maxi stared toward the massive line of waiting customers, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Her eyes narrowed and widened before narrowing again as if trying to summon some kind of X-ray vision.
“Keep thinking that hard and we’ll be asking the baristas where they keep the fire extinguisher,” Addie joked.
Bailey snorted as they scanned through the business’s social media accounts. “Or start bringing the fire blanket everywhere we go.”
A little growl escaped Max’s lips as she slouched in her chair with a massive sigh. “I can practically feel flickers of a soul connection just beneath the surface, and the second I try to pull it forward, it disappears.”
“Maybe you’re trying too hard.”
“Once upon a time, I didn’t have to try at all. If two people were a match, I felt it instantly. Mom thinks it’s performance anxiety.”
Addie studied her sister over Naiomi’s questionnaire. “What do you think it is?”
“Hell if I know. But it would almost be easier to deal with if I stopped feeling soul tethers altogether. Not this … slow erosion.” Maxi shot Addie a warning look. “And it’s not because true love doesn’t exist.”
“I wasn’t about to say that.”
“Really?”
“Maybe the thought crossed my mind, but I wouldn’t say it aloud because you’re already having a crappy day,” Addie teased.
Maxi glanced back at the line. “Take that blond woman in the red dress and the guy standing next to her. I swear I felt a connection between them a few minutes ago, but now there’s nothing.”
Bailey and Addie both glanced toward the talking couple, and Addie did a double-take. Not only was there no luminescent love connection linking the two, but the tether appeared tarnished and rusted.
Sick.
“They’re definitely not a match,” Addie heard herself say.
“How do you know?” Maxi studied the couple harder, her eyes narrowing.
Addie shrugged. “Theoretically, they could get together, but the relationship would definitely end—and definitely not in a happily-ever-forever way.”
Bailey and Maxi fastened their gazes on her, questions forming in their eyes.
Maxi asked first. “Again, how do you know?”
“It looks … rusty.”
“What looks rusty?”
“Their link. The tether. The cord. Whatever you call it.” At Maxi’s confused look, Addie sighed.
“You’re the one Mom Cupid-trained. I don’t know how it works.
” Addie glanced back at the couple and the rusted link was gone.
“I’m both overdue a prescription update and caffeine deficient. Ignore everything I’ve said.”
The coffee shop door opened and a stunning woman with long, cascading onyx braids entered, a box of art supplies clutched in her hands. The woman in red glanced her way while speaking to the man at her side, and stumbled over her words.
The air shifted. Addie glanced around for the open window or rotating ceiling fan, but when she didn’t find either, she looked back toward the two women and nearly fell out of her seat.
Another link slowly flickered into existence, its golden glow at first faint and gradually becoming more intense the longer they exchanged small, sweet smiles.
Addie’s heart rate kicked up. “Do you see that?”
“See what?” Maxi asked with a glance toward the counter. “You mean the daily special? I don’t think it’s much of a special deal.”
Careful not to dislodge her contacts, Addie rubbed her eyes and looked again. The pretty gold link between the two women was gone.
No link.
No golden glow.
Nothing.
She exhaled heavily. For one very brief, panic-filled second, she’d thought she’d seen a soul tether. The Anti-Aphrodite morphing into a Cupid and seeing soul connections all throughout Manhattan. Goddess, wouldn’t that be karma biting her on the ass?
Max glanced at Nai’s questionnaire. “How are things moving along with Naiomi and Easton’s ceremony?”
“They’re not. And it’s not like she’s asking for the moon. Red and white roses. Silk aisle runner. Orchestral processional. It just all feels very—”
“Ordinary,” Maxi finished.
“Exactly.”
“Sometimes what people think they want isn’t actually what they want, but what others expect.”
Addie glanced from her sister to the list and back. “You don’t think this is her actual wish list?”
Maxi shrugged, but the more Addie thought about it, the more she wondered if that was the case and why what she knew of the bubbly brunette didn’t match what was written on the form.
She replayed some of their earlier conversations and kept rewinding back to their first one when she mentioned her childhood wedding journal.
“Son-of-a-bi—” Bailey jolted in their seat as they flipped their phone toward her and shoved it across the table. “Bridezilla Kinkaid strikes again.”
A red blinking LIVE notice flashed in the top right corner as Karleigh Kinkaid-Fink stared into the camera, tears catching in her eyelashes. The number of people watching her quickly grew from a hundred, to over a thousand … and more.
Bailey bumped up the volume.
“I want to thank my followers who’ve reached out and who’ve showed me so much support in this dark time,” Karleigh gushed.
“If there’s one good thing to have come from my encounter with the Anti-Aphrodite, it’s realizing that love—my love for all of you—can help me overcome any obstacle.
We are stronger together. Thank you, everyone. ”
Karleigh blew a kiss into the screen, and her tears miraculously dried up. “And don’t forget to hit the follow button if you want to see what’s coming next.”
“Oh. My. Fucking. Goddess.” Addie stared at the video, literally feeling the color drain from her face as the comments flooded in, one after another, so fast she couldn’t read them all, and after catching one that didn’t paint Happily Ever Forever in the best light, she didn’t want to.
Bailey cursed. “It’s going fucking viral.”
Maxi paled. “What the hell are we going to do? She’s got over a million followers, and unlike our summer drama experience, hers was evidently spot-on.”
Addie closed her eyes and released a slow breath as she rummaged through their options.
It didn’t take long because she didn’t have any.
Except one.
She needed to talk to a rock star about a first date.
She pulled out her phone, fingers hovering over the text screen, when it rang with an unknown number. She debated letting it go to voicemail, but picked up anyway. “Happily Ever Forever … how can we make your forever happen?”
“Adalyn, babe,” came a familiar, unexpected voice. “You asked me to touch base if I ever had a last-minute opening, and guess what?”
Addie sat upright in her seat. “Are you serious?”
The voice on the other end of the line laughed. “You know I don’t joke about event planning. How soon can you get here?”
“Let me make one quick call to my co-planner, and we’ll swing right over.” Addie hung up, smile firmly in place as she shot off a quick text to Phoenix.
Received exciting venue news. You free to see a place? ASAP?
“Who was that?” Maxi asked, curious.
“The Globe has a last-minute opening, and we have to jump on it now if we have any hopes of securing it.”
I’m right around the corner from your building. It’s kismet. Will swing by and pick you up in 5. —P