Danica pulled her champagne glass toward her and downed half of it in one long sip. Somehow she made the gesture look classy and elegant. Heather suspected it was the hair. Women with shiny, straight hair could get away with just about anything.
Danica and her mother stood in unison, despite the fact that there’d been no words exchanged or even eye contact.
Annnd, the weirdness continues.
“I’m confident you’ll take care of it,” Danica said with a bright smile. “Unless you think maybe one of the other planners might be better suited for the job?”
Heather stood, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of handing this wedding off to Alexis or Brooke. They’d never take her seriously enough to promote her to full-fledged planner if her biggest client to date fired her on the first day. “No, of course not,” she said smoothly. “I’ll absolutely take care of it.”
You idiot. How will you “take care of” securing a Saturday reservation at the freaking Plaza in three months?
Heather ignored the voice of reason in her head. She’d deal with her later. If this were Alexis’s wedding, she’d make it work.
“I do have a few more questions about what you’re looking for,” Heather said, trying not to panic as Danica started looking around for her coat.
And by a few questions, Heather meant all of them. She hadn’t even started the questionnaire that the Belles opened each of their consultation with.
Mariah gave a derisive laugh. “Um, Helen, was it? Isn’t it your job to come up with the ideas?”
“It’s Heather,” Heather said through gritted teeth. “And yes, it is. But I want to make sure this wedding is your vision. Not my own.”
“You’ll handle it,” Danica said, moving toward the main reception area in her impossibly high-heeled suede Jimmy Choo boots. “I’ll be in touch for questions. Text is best, but call as needed for emergencies.”
Heather’s mouth dropped open. “You don’t want to be more . . . involved?”
“What for?” Danica said as she pulled on her white coat and tugged her long hair out of the collar.
“Well, for the dress, for starters.”
“Oh. Yes, of course, I’ll be involved for that. Set up some dates for next week and text me where to be. I’ll fit it in.”
Oh, could you fit it in? I’d be ever so grateful.
“All right,” Heather said slowly. “And as for the flowers, the colors, the cake, food, music, seating, ceremony, tuxes, bridesmaid dresses, honeymoon transportation—”
“All you,” Danica said sweetly. “I’ll want final approval, of course, but quite frankly I really don’t have time to be assessing the merits of different kinds of cake, you know? I’m more of a show up and have it be fabulous kind of girl.”
“Then fabulous is what you’ll get,” Heather said, trying to ignore the way her hands had turned completely clammy at the thought of putting together the biggest wedding of her career without the bride.
And based on what she’d seen so far, if the Robinsons weren’t happy with her choices, they’d have absolutely no problem tearing Heather’s career to shreds.
Publicly.
To all fifty freaking million Instagram followers.
Somehow Heather managed to keep her smile in place until the two women left, choosing to ignore the loudly uttered I can’t believe they didn’t have Dom as she closed the door behind them.
Heather turned slowly on her heel, her eyes searching and immediately finding Jessie’s. The adorable Belles receptionist looked torn between laughter and horror, and she wasn’t alone.
Alexis and Brooke stood nearby as well. Brooke had her hand over her mouth, and even the implacable Alexis looked a little wide-eyed.
“Sooooo,” Heather said slowly. “Did I hear that wrong, or are they thinking that I’m going to do this whole thing? Alone. And that I’m just to text her for her approval?”
Brooke’s hand slowly dropped from her mouth. “Look on the bright side. At least she won’t be a bridezilla?”
Heather gave her a look.
“Okay, she won’t be a hands-on bridezilla. The ones that try to control every little detail are way worse.”