Picture Perfect (Weddings by Design Book #1): A Novel (20 page)

“No one will think I went behind her back?”

“Not at all. And she’s fine with that.”

“You’re sure?”

“Definitely.” Bella sighed. “Hannah, the truth is, she’s so caught up in the wedding plans that she’s overwhelmed. That’s all.”

“Still . . .”

“She’s a bride, Hannah. Brides miss most of the details of everyday life when they’re in wedding-planning mode. I’ll tell you, a bride-to-be’s house could go up in flames and she would only think about one thing—making sure she didn’t lose her guest list. Or her gown. Or her shoes.” Bella laughed. “There’s just so much to keep up with. That’s why people hire me, so I can fret over that stuff for them.”

“You’ve worked with a few overwhelmed brides, I see.”

“More than a few. And I’ve handled my share of crises, but none that could’ve ended up in a courtroom—till now. Well, unless you count that time Brock and I ended up in jail, but that’s kind of an anomaly.”

“Thank goodness.” I grinned. “Because I thought for a while there that I might end up in some serious legal trouble if I signed that addendum.”

“You probably would have. Thank God you had the foresight not to sign.”

Indeed. I thanked God for that little detail as we ended the call. And as Drew and I said our goodbyes less than an hour later—our parents looking on—I thanked God for him as well. And for parents willing to change. And for ravioli. Basically, for every good thing the day had brought my way.

Minutes after saying good night, I headed up to my room and reached for my laptop, curious to glance at my email to see if George had ever responded. He hadn’t, but I saw a note from Jacquie Goldfarb. Weird. Signing onto Facebook, I sent her an instant message.

“I’m here now. What’s up?”

Took a minute to get a response, but she finally came back with, “Me. Having trouble sleeping tonight.”

I thought about my words before typing, “Aw, sorry.”

“You?” she typed in response.

“Just finished dinner with the family.” I fought the temptation to add, “And the guy I’m crazy about.”

She responded with “*sigh*.”

“Why the sigh?” I asked.

“Oh, just the mention of your family, that’s all. You might as well know, I was always so jealous of your family.”

I stared at the screen, blown away by what she’d written. I finally managed one word in response: “What?”

“You had the perfect life. A great family. Wonderful sisters.”

True. But she’d never hinted at being jealous of my life before. Why now?

“I was so jealous I couldn’t see straight.” She followed this with a smiley face, though I had a feeling she wasn’t smiling as she typed.

“Wait.” None of this made sense. “You were jealous of me?”

After you got every position I ever wanted and ended up with my date to the prom?

“Well, yeah, you had the one thing I didn’t—parents who loved you. And sisters. I had a mom who didn’t think anything I did was good enough, a dad who was away on business trips most of the time, and a brother who basically made my life miserable. So from where I was sitting, your life looked pretty ideal.”

She ended up signing off after that, but her words stuck with me as I dressed for bed. In all the years I’d known her, it had never occurred to me that Jacquie Goldfarb might be jealous of me. I could hardly comprehend such a thing. It stood in direct opposition to everything I’d believed about the girl.

A mixture of emotions danced through me as I snuggled into bed. When I closed my eyes, I saw the day in little snatches, sort of like a string of photos. There was the shot of George’s email and the shiver that ran through me as I read it. There was the snapshot—a close-up—of Drew kissing me. Yum. Then the shot of driving to Bella’s. Next came the shot with me holding a spear in hand, pointed in victory as Twila prayed the house down. This was followed by a snapshot of the McDermott and Kincaid clans eating ravioli. An odd photo, indeed.

The last frame—well, that was the one that threw me a little. In that one, I saw a weary Jacquie Goldfarb, tearstained cheeks and sad countenance, seated at her computer, completely alone. Somehow, that last little glimpse put everything else in perspective.

Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves,

For they will never cease to be amused.

Irish saying

I
couldn’t remember spending a happier holiday season. Thanksgiving approached and I found more than usual to be thankful for. We celebrated with all of my sisters and their children, but we also invited Drew and his mother, who took to them with both joy and ease. My sisters gave me the thumbs-up once they got to know Drew. Deidre even called him my perfect match. So much for my years of envying my younger sisters for their picture-perfect lives. Looked like my days of “almosts” were truly behind me. Now, to conquer that wedding and move forward with my life and my business, apart from diva country singers.

The week after Thanksgiving, Galveston Island prepared herself for the annual Dickens on the Strand event. You couldn’t go anywhere on the island without feeling the Victorian celebration of Christmas. I always loved this time of year. So much so that I decided to do some over-the-top decorating at my studio so it would match the other businesses in the area.

Capping off the holiday for me? I would get to meet Brock Benson in person. My thoughts turned to mush every time I thought about it. Not that I cared to replace my hunky Drew with the handsome dancing/singing/acting star. Oh no. Brock Benson might be superstar material, but he couldn’t hold a candle to my guy.

On the day before Brock’s arrival, I drove to my studio early in the morning, anxious to tidy up and then deal with the day’s work in a hurry. A heavier-than-usual agenda included a morning photo shoot involving twin baby girls. In Christmas attire, of course. They arrived early, and I dove right in, catching some of the best shots imaginable.

Around eleven, just after wrapping up the shoot, I received a phone call that caught me off guard. I didn’t recognize the number on the phone right away, but I took the call anyway. The words from the other end of the line threw me a little.

“George is gone.”

“What?” I struggled to recognize the voice on the other end of the line. Didn’t sound like Bella.

“George. My publicist. He’s gone. I fired him.”

Sierra Caswell . . . calling me? Personally?

“You . . . you did?”
But George handles everything for you.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “If you want the truth, he was all about promoting me, not about caring for the real me.”

Well, that’s kind of what a publicist does.

Still, I couldn’t argue with the fact that letting him go was the best news I’d heard in a while. Thankful that my clients had already gone, I settled into my chair and leaned back, anxious to hear what she might say.

“So it’s just us now, Hannah,” Sierra said, her usual practicality waning. “And I might as well tell you that the whole music video at the wedding thing . . .”

I pulled the phone a bit closer to listen.

“Ain’t happenin’.” She chuckled. “Every time I mentioned it to David, he looked like he wanted to hurl. I mean, the guy can hardly stand being on camera under the best of circumstances. Apparently the idea of landing in the middle of a music video on our wedding day was giving him cold feet and he was too afraid to tell me.” She giggled. “Can you imagine someone you love being that afraid to tell you what they really feel?”

“Actually, I can. I tend to run on the overly cautious side too. When it comes to sharing what’s on my heart, I mean.”

“Really?” She laughed. “I guess I’m the sort to just blab whatever’s on my mind. Maybe that’s why George was paranoid about protecting me, because he knows me so well. I guess, on some strange level, he was really looking out for me.”

“I’m sure he was.”
At everyone else’s expense.

“Anyway, I’m glad David finally told me what he was feeling. It helps to know we’re just having a wedding and nothing more. The whole thing was starting to feel a little surreal.”

Tell me about it.

“So here’s what I’m thinking. I know we said you couldn’t photograph me from the left side. But honestly, I kind of like my crooked nose. George wasn’t into letting people see my imperfections, but I don’t mind them. I want my fans to know
me and love me for who I really am. If I go on hiding my flaws, they’ll fall in love with someone who isn’t real. You know?”

“I do.”
More than you can imagine.

“Hey, and speaking of keeping it real, I want you to know that David and I are coming down for this parade thing that Brock’s going to be in. I’ll be staying at Bella’s place. David is going to stay at the Tremont.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Our rehearsal dinner is that same night, you know, so we’ll be there already. Might as well go to the parade. I haven’t been to Dickens on the Strand before, so give me some ideas of fun things we can do while we’re there.”

Sierra Caswell was asking me for advice? Outside the realm of photography? Girlfriend to girlfriend? Crazy.

“There’s no better season on Galveston Island than Christmas.” I closed my eyes and could almost envision it. “The whole thing is like a picture book. Like stepping back in time. Imagine a Victorian Christmas, one with music and costumes and food and every good thing.”

“Sounds amazing,” she said. “So, I should show up in a costume?”

“Well, you get in free if you do.” Not that Sierra Caswell needed to get in free, but whatever.

“What do we do, though?”

“Shop, mostly. And eat. We have the best funnel cakes in the world. There’s a costume showcase. You can win all sorts of prizes for dressing up as the Loveliest Lady or the Best-Dressed Family. That sort of thing.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it is. My grandpa Aengus won the Most Dapper Gent contest once, years ago. The cool part is, if you win, you get to show off your costumes in Pickwick’s Lanternlight Parade.
But if you’re not really into coming in costume, don’t worry about it. There’s plenty to do. They’ve got madrigal music, live musicians, jugglers . . .”

I went off on a rabbit trail about the jugglers, but then worked my way back to the topic at hand. “Oh, and some couples even get married at Dickens on the Strand. There’s always a group wedding at noon on Saturday. You can get married there or renew your wedding vows. Whatever you like.”

She laughed. “Well, if things get any crazier with my wedding, I might go that route. Sure would be easier than planning my own ceremony.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, look on the bright side. You won’t ever have to go through this again.”

“You’re right.” She sighed. “I can’t wait for you to meet David. He’s the best. He’s been through so much, being engaged to me. You have no idea how stressful it is, especially with the paparazzi involved. Sometimes I wish I could go back to the way things were before any of this fame stuff ever started.” She paused. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I feel so . . . lucky.”

“No such thing as luck, girl. I’d have to say you’re blessed. Or as my grandpa Aengus would say, ‘Blessed by the best.’”

She laughed. “Is your grandpa a Texan?”

“He lived in Texas, but his heart was still in Ireland.”

Her voice softened. “Has he passed away?”

“Yeah.” A catch in my throat made me stop. “I . . . I miss him a lot.”

“I miss my grandfather too. He was always so good at giving me advice. I didn’t always take it, but his heart was in the right place.”

“Mine too.”

We both sighed in unison and then laughed.

“Didn’t mean to get off on all that,” she said. “I just wanted to give you a call and tell you about George. I’ve already told Bella. She’s happy, I think.”

Me too.
But I wouldn’t say that out loud.

At this point the conversation continued to how cute Bella’s children were. I filled her in on the details of little Rosie’s new tooth. Before long I had Sierra laughing with some of my stories about the antics the Rossi children had pulled.

Just before we ended the call, I thought of something I’d better share. “Hey, do you mind if I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

“You remember Drew Kincaid?” I asked.

“Of course. You’re not still worried that I’m going to hire him instead, are you?” she asked. “I feel really bad for telling you all of that.”

“No, just the opposite, in fact. I want to ask if it’s okay for him to help me out at your wedding.”

“No way. I get two for the price of one?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Drew and I are . . . well, we’re . . .”

“No way. You’re dating?” She let out a squeal and lit into how cool it was to have both of us on the same team. I couldn’t agree more.

As we prepared to end the conversation, I thanked Sierra for sticking with me. She countered with, “Girl, it’s the right thing. I can feel it. I can’t wait to meet you in person, by the way. You seem like my kind of girl.”

“You . . . you too.”

Who knew? The diva wasn’t such a diva after all. Bella had been right all along.

After ending the call, I raced to Drew’s studio to tell him all about my day, especially as it pertained to Sierra’s wedding
plans. I found him under the sink in the bathroom, working on the pipes, his hair a mess and smudges of dirt all over his face.

“What’s happening here?” I asked.

He groaned and sat up, nearly smacking his head as he did. “Same thing as before, only worse. The plumbing is shot. When the freeze hit last night, the pipes froze and then split off at the seams. I had a water leak like you wouldn’t believe. Water went under the wall and soaked my office. Almost ruined the power adapter leading to my computer.”

“Oh no. You caught it in time?”

“Just.” He crawled out from under the sink and raked his fingers through his messy hair. “It doesn’t make any sense, as much as I pay to rent this place. You would think they’d take better care of things. I’ve tried talking to my landlord, but he just loads me up on more stories of things he’s going to do next week. But next week never comes.”

“It’s an old building,” I observed. “Probably needs a complete overhaul.”

“Yeah, plumbing, electrical . . . everything.” Under the sink, the steady
drip
,
drip
,
drip
of water sounded, and Drew groaned again. “It’s not ‘quaint old,’ like your place. Far from it, in fact.”

I shrugged, unsure of what to say. My heart went out to him.

“Just seems like a lot of money with little to show for it.”

“I’ve got the same problem. Sort of, anyway. I pay a lot for my studio but don’t spend much time there. So much of my work is out on location. Weddings, family events, personal photos. I only spend about half of my time indoors, if that.”

“Same here.”

He appeared to be thinking—I knew it because the tiny
crevices between his eyes deepened. After a moment he snapped his fingers. “Hannah, that’s it.”

“W-what?”

“We should share an office space. I’ve got some great backdrops. You’ve got a great location. I’ve got a wonderful marketing strategy. You’ve got the best ambience in town. We both do at least half of our work outside the studio, so we wouldn’t be tripping over each other.”

My heart raced as I pondered his words. “I—I’m not sure what you’re saying. You think we can run two separate businesses out of one location? Won’t that confuse people?”

“No.” He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Not two businesses. One business.”

“One business?”

Was he talking about merging . . . everything? At this news, I wanted to sit down. Only, I couldn’t find a chair that didn’t have some sort of plumbing supply on it.

“Think about it, Hannah. It would be half of the rent but double the proceeds. We’d have each other to lean on. If I didn’t have time for a shoot, you could cover it, and vice versa.”

“I don’t know, Drew.” Releasing a slow breath, I began to pace the room.

But the idea did hold some merit. With the rent on my place so high, splitting it down the middle would give me some breathing room. I wouldn’t have to depend on large photo shoots to cover my expenses. We could split them. And who better to split them with?

“We’ve competed against each other for too long.” He drew near and took my hand again, which caused a delicious shiver to wriggle its way down my spine. “We need to be working with each other, not against. We can pull from each other’s strengths.”

I had to admit, the idea held merit. How long had I searched for the chink in his armor so that I could bring him down? If we merged forces, I could let all of that go.

Merge forces. Hmm.

Gazing into Drew’s gorgeous baby blues, I had to conclude one thing: letting go of my competitive spirit was getting easier every day. No telling what Grandpa Aengus would say . . . but did it really matter?

“Okay, I like this idea,” I said after a moment’s reflection. “But I have to ask you something first. And answer me honestly.”

“Of course.”

“I just have to know . . . do you put your business first?”

He shrugged. “I would guess that most new business owners do, especially those who don’t have large families. I mean, I’ve got no siblings to distract me, ya know?”

I laughed. “I have three married sisters, two parents who know every detail of my life, and a best friend who still thinks that having a slumber party is a good idea. I’m drowning—at home and at work. I want to give 100 percent on all fronts, but there are only so many 100 percents you can give before you realize there’s nothing left. And I hate to admit it, but I feel pretty . . . I don’t know . . . blah inside. Sometimes, anyway. I mean, I’m energized about the business to the point of thinking about it nonstop. But I don’t have as much energy left over to give to some of the things that really matter. Or, rather, things that used to matter.”

A wave of guilt washed over me as I remembered how much I used to enjoy taking photos at church, or going on mission trips. “Years ago, I would’ve been out on the streets at Christmastime, doing outreaches with the homeless. Now I’m so busy taking pictures of people who have everything that
I don’t see the people who have nothing. It’s like I’ve cropped that image out of my life. I can try as hard as I want, but in the end, something’s gotta give.”