Amalfi Coast (That Wedding Girl Book 2) (6 page)

“Are you on this floor too?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, just walking with me. We reach my door and I fetch my key card out from my wallet. Should I invite him in? “Thanks for tonight, I—”

Without warning, he leans forward to edge close to me. Real close. His lips are inches from mine, and I inhale his intoxicating scent of figs and wine.  Oh god, what is he doing?

He stands in front of me and scans my face, examining me. He stares into my eyes, and I hold his intense gaze. I can’t look away this time because he is so close. I can hear him clearing his throat and my attention is drawn to his voluptuous mouth.
If Tristan was here
...oh god, why am I thinking Tristan at this moment? I pull my head back, and start reaching for the key card in my bag.

“Good night,” I give him a warm smile. “Thanks for tonight, I had a great time.”

“
La prossima volta
…” he whispers to himself and this time he doesn’t tell me what he means. What? What did he say?

I freeze when he edges closer and I think he’s about to kiss me when all of a sudden I feel a downward tug of the yellow scarf. It tugs again and I look down to see his hands not on me, but on the scarf. One more pull and it comes undone, and Matteo quickly grabs it off me.

He takes a deep breath and pulls back, answering my silent question with his suddenly unwavering eyes.

“
Buonasera
,” he murmurs and walks away. Good evening, at least I know what he meant by that.

As soon as he disappears from immediate view, I walk into the room and I don’t know whether to be disappointed or confused. What was that? Was he trying to kiss me? Did he want to come inside?

Why was I only able to see Tristan’s face the whole time?

My pen travels up and down the page for what feels like the millionth time. Notes are scribbled all over it. I’ve made such a mess that I might as well print out another checklist.

“Everything’s been done, right?” Gabe asks.

“Come on, babe. You’ve been so good this whole time. Don’t freak out on me now,” I say calmly, trying to encourage him along.

He sighs and nods. “Alright, sorry. I know it’s just the rehearsal today, but as far as I know everything has been booked that I know of.”

Good. I trust Gabe completely and if he says it’s been taken care of, I know he means it. I keep my eyes on the page, going back up to the top. “Okay, the officiant will be attending today. Just confirmed with her and I got her to arrive ten minutes early just to double check things.”

“Brill. What about the musicians?”

“The orchestra won’t be coming early as it will incur a costly fee, but the DJ will be attending so we’ll just get him to play the ceremony music on his decks. He will be arriving thirty-minutes early,” I tick step two on my checklist.

“And you’re okay with introductions right?” He asks, whipping out his phone to check something.

“Yep, just the wedding party will be here tonight so I’ll get them to walk down the aisle and send them down for the processional.”

“Shall I trust you to ask them to rehearse the processional at least a hundred times?”

I’ve developed a bit of a reputation in the industry as a rehearsal tyrant. I would rather be over prepared than under-prepared and even though I have borne the brunt of many clients, they always end up praising me by the end of their wedding day. 

“Yes, if it takes that many times, I’m not afraid to go there. Is that it?”

Gabe snaps his fingers. “Ooh rings! Have you spoken to the ring bearer?”

“Got it covered. Kieran’s best man, Greg, has them.”

“And what about the photographer?
You
know who I’m talking about,” he says suggestively. 

Matteo, the guy I had an incredibly intimate evening with last night?

“Yep, he has been taken care of,” I brush off. “Anyway, let’s head to the venue now. The decorators will be arriving in twenty and I wanted to see the space again. And then we should have the night to ourselves. Why do you look so happy, mister?” I notice Gabe’s coy smile as we stand up.

“Oh nothing. I’ve already made plans with Rodrigo. There’s just something in the water over here with the men, Laylay.”

There sure is!
“Wow, and you usually dump a guy after a few dates if you’re not keen.”

He scoffs, “A few days? Twenty minutes more like!”

I roll my eyes. “Oh yes, I forgot who I was talking to.” I smile at him. “Come on, let’s go down. This rehearsal better go well.”

♦

“Best man and maid of honour, go now!” I bark through my headset microphone, which echoes in the room. Immediately, Amelia’s sister Yvonne and Kieran’s best friend, Greg, walk down the aisle

“Okay, bridesmaids and groomsmen, go! Go!”

Everyone follows my orders, probably because my voice is so shrill and nagging. All but the last bridesmaid and groomsman. Emily flicks her hair in a coquettish manner, giggling with the groomsman as they walk slowly behind everyone else.

I put my hands on my hips.  “Hey! Emily, I know you have a great story to tell Richard, but can you tell him in the janitor’s closet later?”

Amelia and Kieran crack up and Emily glares at me. Richard keeps his eyes on Emily. Shaking my head, I look at my run sheet again. We’ve done the processional six times, and judging by the weary looking faces in the room, I think we can call it a day for the ceremony rehearsal. If the wedding party isn’t sick of me and my pesky high-pitched ‘boss mode’ voice by now, then there must be something seriously wrong with them. I walk up to Amelia at the end of the hall, who looks pretty as a petal in a white lace top and  jeans.

Putting the clipboard between us, I push the microphone away from my mouth. “Do you think we’ve rehearsed enough?”

Amelia stares at me funnily. “You think? I think even Kieran’s mother is falling asleep, and she’s actually had to watch paint dry as an interior decorator.”

The corners of my mouth twitch up. “Okay, I get your point! So I’ve allowed concessions for the orchestra to arrive and get setup. After you and Kieran walk out, you guys have an hour to get your photographs. And then you’ll make your way to the reception—”

Amelia puts her hands on my shoulder. “Yep, you’ve told me already. An hour should be plenty sufficient, as long as the weather is good right?”

I quickly flick a few pages to look at the weather forecast I printed off. “Yes, tomorrow
will
be perfect clear sunny skies. It’s supposed to be twenty-four degrees so you shouldn’t get over-heated. And yes you and Kieran have plenty of time to walk in between the terrace to the garden.”

She rolls her eyes heavenward, and I know she’s just teasing me. “Relax, I’m kidding! No, I’m ecstatic with everything. I love how the venue is looking already. I just can’t wait for tomorrow.”

We both look over to the aisle, which is mostly completed at this stage. The arch is complete with white lace and dotted with pink rosebuds, and all the wooden benches have a soft white ribbon tied to each end.  

“It will look spectacular tomorrow,” I reassure her, not as a client but as a friend. “I bet you can’t wait to just go to the honeymoon right?”

“I think I’ve gotten off lucky, I feel like I’m already on my honeymoon. But then again, I’ve got the best wedding planner so I haven’t had to worry about anything.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it softly.

I beam at her and quickly return to my steely gaze. “Okay, so give an hour for you and Kieran to take photos. Then your dinner. Now, you just wanted a simple dinner and speeches, and then the dance floor at the end. I know you said already but are you
sure
you don’t want any games? No taking the garter? No shoe games? Nothing?”

She shakes her cute button nose at me. “No, I’m sure. Kieran’s crowd isn’t into that kind of thing, and to be honest I want it short, simple and sweet. I will throw the bouquet at the end and we’ll just have a dance with everyone. No fuss, no muss.”

“Okay. In that case, I’ll double check with the technician that everything checks out and call the caterer to make sure they know where to setup tomorrow. I’ll also check with the florist to make sure the white roses will be delivered in pink wrapping, not blue.”

I whip out my phone and start making some calls. I can’t let her carefree kindness distract me.

Pushing the dial button, I press the receiver to my ear and walk furiously down the hallway, my nude pumps clacking loudly. God knows I will be making phone calls all day today, and half of the day tomorrow. But this is where I’m in my element – putting it all together. And for someone like Amelia, I’ll go the extra mile to make sure she gets the day she deserves.

♦

“Great thanks, I’ll show you to the kitchen at 10:30 tomorrow morning.
Ciao
!”

I hang up, updating the details on my phone. I think by now everyone in this town knows me as the shrill and overly organised wedding planner. They must have heard my voice ringing through the halls at least once. But hey, if I’m not annoying people three times over to do what they have been paid to do, I’m not doing my job. 

I think I’ll call it a day. Clipping my biro pen to my clipboard, I start walking out from the church, through the fire exit to walk into the private section of the gardens. The whole wedding is at the hotel, which is not only convenient for me and the guests, but it makes the experience all encompassing. As I start walking I can hear a female giggling, followed by a male’s murmuring around the corner where the sandstone gazebo is. It sounds just like Emily, Amelia’s bridesmaid that I just told off in the rehearsal earlier. After hearing it all day, I can recognise that nasally giggle anywhere. She has flirted with every eligible guy since I met her. She even flirted with Gabe before he told her he likes his women like he likes his coffee, followed by his affirmation that he hates coffee.

I hear the male speak.

“Let’s take another
la fotografia. Si
, stand there.”

It’s Matteo. He’s with the giggling girl? Suddenly curious, I walk quietly and turn the corner, hiding behind a giant shrub. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I giggle at the sight in front of me.

It
is
Matteo, and he’s taking photos of Emily in a variety of silly poses inside the gazebo. He’s pressing the button in rapid succession and she’s pretending to pose like a supermodel:  flicking her hair and pulling up her long skirt to reveal her leg. And the constant pouting and pursing of her lips, cringe!

Suddenly my phone rings loudly. “Crap!”

Matteo looks over in my direction but I turn around and run back, opening the door and back into the hall. Wow, he sure acts quick, total player that he is. Is this guy desperate for action or something? Because judging by the way Emily is looking at him, he will definitely score.

Answering the phone, I quickly forget about what I saw before. I had a lot of fun last night and I’m going to leave it at that. I’m here to do one thing and one thing only - making tomorrow the best day of Amelia’s life.

My head shakes disapprovingly as I study the overdone flower arrangements at the buffet table. I asked for a delicate and tasteful bouquet of white roses and lilies, not a bloody jungle!

“Can you please pluck out the green leaves? Put them on the aisle carpet, we can still use them as floor decorations,” I click my fingers at Gabe.

Gabe does as I ask, pulling the long reeds out from the white pots. “So the caterers are all okay?”

“Yep, they are already making the canapés. The head chef complained, something about the oven settings not being hot enough but I got the hotel manager to sort that out.”

“And the cake?” He asks.

Ugh
. The cake, the brunt of my stress. “The delivery guy said they are having trouble with traffic, but he insisted he will be here in roughly thirty minutes, so that’s still plenty of time to put it on the table. Can you meet him and direct him to the kitchen? I have to check on Amelia then, make sure she’s ready to start making her way down,” I order, rubbing my temples. The cake better show up here in one piece. What kind of a wedding would there be without the perfect cake?

“Sure. And the musicians?”

“Yep. I will also need you to meet them as they are arriving in twenty to get setup and practise. All their numbers are on the run sheet.”

“Any emails that need to be responded to?”

“No, everything’s done,” I conclude as I start walking towards the arch to check it one more time.

Out from the corner of my ear, I hear heels clicking down the hall. I turn around to see Amelia’s mother Karen who calls out to me. “Lacey! Amelia wants you now.”

Oh no, what is it? The only time the bride has asks for me before the wedding is when she’s nervous, feels sick, or wants relationship advice. I’ve had to deal with all three. And with one particular client…all at once.

I turn to Gabe, pushing my headset away. “Crap, I have to go. Will you be okay?”

Gabe flicks his hand. “Go, go!”

I kiss him on the cheek. “Legend! I’m just a phone call away if anything goes wrong.”

“Just fawn all over her and tell her she looks hot. Works every time!” he yells at me as I scurry down the aisle to meet Karen.

Amelia’s mother rushes me to the private room behind the church and opens the door to see Amelia gazing at her reflection in the full length mirror.

“Oh my god, you look beautiful,” I gush at the sight of her, and it’s not because Gabe told me to do so. With her auburn hair styled in loose tendrils fastened in a casual half ponytail with small white roses embedded in her hair, she looks like a Grecian goddess in her off the shoulder chiffon dress. Belted to make her tiny waist look even tinier, the dress stops right before her ankles. Even though she is barefoot, she doesn’t need to wear  heels. She looks perfect.

“You look hot!” I walk up and kiss her gently on her cheek, getting a whiff of her scent of cut roses. Might as well inject some Gabe flavour where I can.

“Speak for yourself, you look good!” She looks at me. “You look so different with your hair up. It shows off your lovely face.”

I’m just in my standard work attire – a knee length black shift dress and black pumps. “Nah, I always tie my hair up at weddings, it’s just easier. So, your mum said you wanted you to see me?”

She purses her bare lips, yet to be applied with lipstick. “I just wanted to say thank you for all of this. I know that this may have not been the easiest thing to do, coming here after what happened.”

“You don’t have to—”

She puts up a hand, begging me to stop. “Just let me finish please.”

I nod quietly and she continues.

“This is going to be such an exciting time in your life and I think you are going to do great things. Enjoy every second, no more holding back okay? You deserve happiness. Not only are you an awesome person, you’re someone I really admire.”

I look at her, my mouth popped open. Even if her hair and clothes are different, she hasn’t changed one bit – she is still the kind-hearted and sweet girl I knew.

“You are not allowed to make me emotional!” I lean in to hug her again, hugging her extra tight. “You deserve this, girl. He is a wonderful man and he is so lucky to have you. Don’t ever forget that.”

She hugs me back, equally as tight. “I know your Prince Charming is out there. He is a lot closer than you think,” she whispers in my ear, and something tells me her words are not something I’m going to forget anytime soon.

I pull away from the hug, giving her a wide smile. “Come on, let’s do this thing!”

When I get back downstairs, I receive the best news of the day – the cake has arrived in one piece. Hallelujah! The four tier lemon and vanilla cake looks spectacular, the piped mousse cream shaped perfectly just the way Amelia wanted. If the cake can come in one piece, everything else will fall into place. I just know it.   

♦

The day is finally over, thank goodness! The ceremony was just as Amelia wanted: simple, elegant and tasteful.

My favourite part of weddings is seeing the look on the groom’s face when the bride walks down the aisle. And boy, did he look happy to see my gorgeous friend make her entrance. His nerves, his anticipation, and his excitement suddenly disappeared and the most serene calm look of love and adoration appeared on his face when he saw her. And I couldn’t be more proud and honoured to be here for her day.

My second favourite part of weddings is the vows, the special words written from the heart and soul of the couple. I never get tired of seeing and hearing the raw emotion that pours out of them. What Amelia said may have been cute, funny and sweet but Kieran’s words blew me away. 

I, Kieran, ask everyone here to witness, that I take you, Amelia, as my wife.

However, I cannot promise to be the perfect husband.

I cannot promise to always be happy.

I cannot promise to never be angry.

I cannot promise not to hurt your feelings sometimes.

But, I can promise to share my thoughts with you.

I can promise to laugh with you, and many times laugh at you.

I can promise to be supportive of you.

I can promise to be honest with you.

And I do promise to love you. For the rest of our lives.

Even Gabe, the most cynical person when it comes to love, looked a little choked up after his speech.  Who doesn’t want to find their soul mate and be with that one person for the rest of their lives? I know I do.

The ceremony may have been sentimental and emotion but the reception was light-hearted, fun, and full of booze; just the way I like it. Decorated with white lace and white lilies, I couldn’t be more pleased at how it all turned out. The crypt was already beautiful, but the soiree was inviting and classy without being pretentious. Having done a full circle of the hall several times, it was clear all the guests were having a great time. The room bustled with excited chatter: the children were running between the tables in a good natured game of tag, the adults laughing at their tables. Everyone got drunk and merry on the multiple jugs of sangria, pimms, and basil margaritas.

Then Mr. and Mrs. Urquhart entered, and applause spread across the room. The crypt echoed with the scraping of chairs as everyone got up for a standing ovation. The happy couple made their way to the head table, sitting in front of a bouquet of yellow daffodils. When they kissed, there was cheers and wolf whistles. Then Yvonne, Amelia’s sister and maid-of-honour rose from her chair. The sound of her teaspoon dinging on her wineglass signalled everyone to silence for the ensuing speeches. After the speeches came the tossing of the bouquet, and to Emily’s delight she caught the light bunch of pink and white peonies. She should hardly be surprised considering she elbowed all the other women out of the way. 

All in all, today has been a success. Yes, as with all weddings there were a few hiccups – the delivery man almost dropped the cake and the chicken skewer canapés came out ten minutes late – but it all came together and Gabe and I managed to pull it all off. It doesn’t matter where the wedding is, we make a fantastic team and I’m excited for what’s around the corner. I could get used to planning destination weddings after all.

♦

It’s now the party end of the night, and the dance floor is blazing with all the guests grooving away to the contemporary pop music. Gabe and I have a quick boogie with the wedding party and I get to witness Kieran’s stiff typewriter moves. While I move gently from side to side, Gabe is really in his element and on stage, his flamboyant personality and sensuality bursts through in the most fun way. Somehow one song turns into five and I work up a sweat. At Amelia’s insistence, I’ve consumed three glasses of champagne, and I am now feeling relaxed and happily tipsy.

“Thriller” by Michael Jackson blares through the speakers and the crowd goes wild. This is my cue to escape. I sneak my way out of the dance floor, grabbing a white wine spritzer at the bar before using the fire escape to get some fresh air.

The cool air feels so good on my skin and I walk up to the gazebo to drink my wine in peace and silence. The day is over! For the first time in a long time - even before coming here for this wedding - I can finally breathe easy. Most of my work is done now. The caterers and decorators will clean up the room when the reception is finished, and I’ve finalised all the payments and invoices for the services provided. That’s everything.

Sitting on the stone bench inside the gazebo, I rest my head on the stone pillar behind me, thinking about what else needs to be done when I hear the footsteps of well-heeled shoes approaching the gazebo. I crouch my back inwards, trying to not be seen. I just want to be alone right now. However, my efforts are all in vain as the footsteps get closer, until they stop just in front of me.

“
Buonasera,
Lacey.”

It’s Matteo, the hunky Italian who has been a hell of a distraction since I’ve been here.

He’s here, in front of me.

And it looks like he’s here to stay.