Monster in My Closet (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Saturday was a traditional Bay Area overcast, which did not bode well for an outdoor reception. They were holding the whole thing at a gorgeous, restored Colonial Revival complex overlooking the Bay. The wedding would be inside the chapel where we’d rehearsed, then move outside to the gardens for the reception.

The venue offered everything a bride could want—catering, setup, linens, crystal. However, Alma Dickson had declined all the in-house services and preferred to have us use outside vendors instead. Financially good for us, but a logistical nightmare, since the location coordinator did not approve of our meddling and made it clear we were on our own.

I arrived an hour earlier than I was expected, and this put a wild hair up her ass from the start.

She pursed her lips and gave me a once-over. At the end of her perusal, I wasn’t sure if my nose was on backward or if she disapproved of my eye color.

She sniffed. “I suppose we can accommodate you with a space to work for the time being. In the future, please be aware of appointment times. Yours may not be the only event planned for the day, and we must give priority to those who retain their given schedule.”

Bitch. I knew damn well they never scheduled more than one event in an entire weekend. What a load of crap. “Thank you, Margaret. I appreciate your assistance.” I ducked my head and followed her
. Play nice, Zo. Let’s get through this day with our reputation and our temper intact.

She dropped me in a corner of the delivery area in back. I don’t know if she meant it as a slight, but it was exactly where I needed to be. It was a good thing I was early. Vendors started showing up about a half hour later.

There was a minor difficulty with the cake when it arrived. Somehow, they’d managed to leave the top tier at the bakery. I sent them scurrying home to retrieve it, while I paced. This is what happens when a client doesn’t use my vendors. Moira never would have made a mistake like that. If I hadn’t stood over them and made them assemble the cake right then, we might not have known in time.

Of course, screw-ups like that look bad for the coordinator. Brides and their tyrannical mothers don’t care who made the mistake. It was me they paid to catch it.

Right on time, Brad sauntered in, with Adrianne and Frankie giggling on his arms. I rolled my eyes. Now there was a problem I hadn’t considered. Brad the Charmer needed to stay away from my temps, or nobody was going to get any work done.

I set the three of them to work on table settings. Boxes of linens, crystal, flowers and place settings were piled up in the delivery area. Much of it had arrived in the days previous, but some had to wait till the last minute. According to my super-functional dinosaur of a clipboard, everything was present and accounted for.

With the setup underway, I went in search of the bride. Knowing her, she was probably either throwing up or breathing into a paper bag.

On the way to Gail’s room, I shot off a text to Sara. She should have been there already and I was getting nervous.

Sara may not have been in her pre-arranged spot, but Gail was right where I expected. Five bridesmaids flittered around her, all in different stages of undress. Mrs. Dickson was uncharacteristically quiet, hovering in front of a mirror with her cheeks sucked in, trying to apply fake eyelashes to her already over-made-up face.

Gail was in sweatpants, her hair pinned and hanging in ringlets. She was sitting on the edge of a bed, professionally painted eyes getting ready to overflow with tears. When she saw me walk through the door, she blinked and the first tears plopped in her lap.

“Zoey, it’s ruined. I can’t do this.” Someone handed her a tissue and she blotted at her face with a dainty motion.

“Everything’s perfect, Gail. We’re setting up for the reception as we speak. Everything is exactly what you wanted.” I knelt down next to her and dabbed at a wet cheek. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

“Everything’s wrong!” I swear, her voice sounded like a moaning banshee. If I hadn’t known she was an accountant, I’d have pegged her for a B-movie actress. “I haven’t seen or heard from Aidan since he went off to his bachelor party last night. I don’t know where he is. Karen’s dress has a rip in it. Tammy’s got a run in her hose with no spares, and look at this!”

She shoved a monogrammed, lavender hand towel into my hand. I didn’t understand what she wanted me to see, at first. The towel was clean. Then I noticed the monograms: AsS & GaS. The letters were in gold and quite elegant.

“What are your middle names?” I asked, trying not to smirk.

“Stephen and Alison. My Aunt Charlotte had these made for us. We’re Ass and Gas!”

There was absolutely nothing I could say to fix this one. The best I could do was not laugh. “Honey, this is a problem for another day. Let’s focus on today, okay?”

She nodded and reached for the offensive hand towel, rubbing at the letters with her fingers.

As part of our on-site coordination, I carried a large leather satchel filled with every imaginable damage-control item. I reached into my bag of tricks and took control of the room.

“Tammy. Where’s Tammy?” The girls were milling around, paying little attention. Wedding-planner-voice kicked in. “Ladies, I need your attention. Where’s Tammy?”

A mousy girl with dirty-blond hair stepped forward in her bra and pantyhose. “Me. That’s me.”

“Where’s the run?”

She pointed to a spot mid-thigh where a small nick in the threads was running upward. Good. Not a bad spot. The dresses were at knee level. If we acted quickly, no one need know.

I pulled out my bottle of clear nail polish and dabbed it around the run. “Don’t touch it until it’s dry,” I said. “Otherwise, it’ll keep growing.” I capped the polish and dropped it in the bag. “Now. Where’s Karen?”

It always amazed me when people didn’t bring essential emergency items to a wedding—especially when the party was as big as this one. I found it hard to believe nobody had thought to bring spare hose, nail polish, safety pins or a sewing kit.

Amateurs.

Karen’s problem was a little bigger. Somehow she’d managed to snag the waistline, and part of it had unraveled from the bodice. If it had been one of the seams at her bust line, I might have understood. Karen was a girl blessed with boobs. This, however, was the sign of inferior sewing. How nice for Alma to spend an outrageous sum on an extravagant location, a planner and vendors she didn’t need, yet cheap-out on the bridesmaid dresses. It was a nice gesture for her to pay for all the dresses, but I was betting Gail’s friends would have been happy to take over the expense if it meant dresses that wouldn’t split open and expose them in the middle of the chicken dance at the reception.

No wonder they didn’t bother helping her with anything. I needed something to eat. I was getting cranky.

Out of my emergency kit, I pulled a hand sewing machine. I wasn’t able to match the thread exactly, but it was close enough. Once Karen was out of her dress, I had it fixed in three minutes.

I’m so organized.

Having dealt with the first round of catastrophes, I ran out the door promising to check on Aidan. Gail wasn’t exactly perky, but her eyes were dry and she was making progress toward getting dressed.

In the hallway, I ran into Andrew. I wanted to stop and hug him, but I had no time.

“Walk with me,” I said. I checked my texts while we sprinted to the groom’s quarters. Sara was running late but should be there any minute. “For the time being, will you be me? I need you to run down to the reception area and direct traffic. I have a horrible feeling work has stopped while I’m up here. Brad’s alone with two giggly females. Can you crack a whip over them?”

“That’s my dream job.” He gave my shoulders a squeeze and disappeared into the elevator.

Aidan and his boys were, of course, hung over and self-medicating with the proverbial hair of the dog. They were obnoxious as hell, and one of them actually grabbed my butt, but they were getting ready.

On my way out the door, I pointed at the stubble-faced guy in the corner. “Somebody get the ass-man a razor. No grizzly bears in the wedding photos.”

I trekked to the bride’s room and stuck my head through the door. “Aidan’s fine, Gail. Everybody’s getting ready. No worries. Do you need anything else before I go?”

She looked much more relaxed than she had a half hour before. “I’m kind of thirsty.”

I scowled at the women lounging around the room. “Ladies, room service. Get her a drink. Your job today is to get yourselves ready and to wait on her. She should not have to be thirsty. Not with all these people here to take care of her.”

The women looked startled and stopped chattering. Erin picked up the phone and dialed. Externally, I smiled my brightest smile. Inside, I was rolling my eyes. These women were in their mid-to late-twenties. They were behaving like teenagers. I was going to have to make several more trips up there before the ceremony.

By the time I reached the parking lot, Sara was pulling herself out from behind the steering wheel. Her skin was pale and papery, her eyes ringed with dark puffiness. But she was dressed nicely, if slightly wrinkled by her standards (not mine), and her hair was tidy. I knew at a glance she would be lagging behind.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “My alarm didn’t go off.”

I almost pointed out that it was well after noon, but it didn’t seem worth the effort. First thing Monday morning, I was taking her to a doctor whether she agreed to it or not. Possibly sooner.

Normally at a wedding this size, she’d be running as hard as I was. She was far too out of it for that this time. I got her set up folding napkins and passing them over to Brad and his mini-harem.

“Just keep an eye on them and keep things going, okay?”

She smiled at me in an absent way and started humming while she folded.

I snagged Andrew by the arm and pulled him aside.

“She looks like hell,” he said.

I nodded. “I’ll take care of her. The sooner we get through today, the sooner I can get her to a doctor.”

“Zoey, what’s wrong with her? I’ve never seen an aura like that. It looks so thin and brittle.”

I watched her for a moment, frowning with worry. “She hasn’t been sleeping. Should we take her to the emergency room?”

Andrew squinted at her. “It doesn’t look like she’s sick, exactly. Just worn out. I think she can make it through the wedding. I’ll keep an eye on her, then we’ll take her in tonight.”

I nodded, relieved to have him there. Sara was okay for the moment. We just had to get through this afternoon.

Andrew and I stepped into the chapel for a quick once-over. “Where the hell are the decorations? The extra chairs are here, but the runner and the flowers haven’t been set up.”

I dashed out the door with Andrew trailing behind me. We located the chapel decorations and pulled Frankie in to help us haul them over and set up. Halfway through, I left them to it, ran back to check on Sara, then tore up to the bride’s room to look in on her.

If I’d had time for my mind to wander, I’d have been daydreaming about the upcoming vacation I hadn’t realized I needed.

Alma Dickson had given up on her false eyelashes and was now harassing her daughter.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you had a tighter rein on your fiancé,” she said. “I have two hundred and fifty people waiting to see my daughter get married, and you let him and his no-good friends go out drinking last night.” She paced the floor, shooting eyeball darts at each of the women in the room before returning to her daughter. “I can’t have anything go wrong today.”

Gail huddled on the bed in a sea of white satin, lace and tulle, her face pink, tears threatening to spill.

I stood in the doorway, fuming. I’d had enough of this hateful woman.

My smile was fierce. “Mrs. Dickson, I need to see you in the hallway, please.”

She waved me off. “In a minute. I’m speaking to my daughter.”

“Now.”

The chill in my voice broke through to her, and her head swiveled in my direction.

“Excuse me?” Her painted eyebrows shot up into her hairline.

“I need to see you in the hall. Now.” I pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped aside.

She was fuming by the time I got her outside the room and closed the door behind us. “You do not speak to me that way,” she said. “You work for me, and I…”

I raised my hand to stop her. “This is not your day. This is hers. You are not the main event today, Mrs. Dickson, and browbeating the bride is unacceptable behavior from anyone, even you. Making the bride cry on her happy day is something you wouldn’t allow anyone else to do. I don’t know why you think it’s okay for you.”

I could feel her anger pounding against my defenses like a drummer in a middle school band.

She sputtered, but didn’t find any words. She probably didn’t have enough experience with people standing up to her to know what an appropriate response might be.

“Now,” I said. “You hired us to coordinate all this. Everyone has a job to do, and I need you to do what you do best.” I gave her my most professional smile. “I have members of the press downstairs needing direction. Would you be so kind as to answer their questions and show them where they need to be, Councilwoman Dickson?”

Her entire demeanor changed. Her professional smile matched mine, she straightened the jacket on her pantsuit and stalked to the elevator without another word.

Frankly, I didn’t care anymore if she dropped a truck full of dead sea bass into my office.
Shut us down, I dare you. I’ll run for city council myself and kick your ass to the street, you old bat.

Forty-five minutes later, I had the bridal party in their places and ready for the ceremony. I’m not sure how I pulled it off.

Sara should have been helping me herd the wedding party, but I hadn’t seen her since planting her at the reception tables with the napkins. I could only hope she was busy arranging centerpieces and overseeing the catering staff. The groom and his half of the party were at the front of the chapel. I sent the bridesmaids down at regular intervals, Gail and her parents went through the door, and I was free. My shoulders had been up around my ears, but with the bride sailing down the aisle with a smile on her face, I relaxed in tiny increments. Round one was complete.