Mob Wedding Mayhem (2 page)

“
M
iss East
— I mean, Mrs. Prudell,” her assistant Mandy began, “your eleven o’clock bride and her mother are here to see you. Shall I send them in?”

Stacy pressed the intercom button on her desk phone and spoke calmly. “Yes, thank you Mandy. And would you see to it that we have some iced tea?”

“Yes, Mrs. Prudell,” she answered before clicking off. Stacy could hear the snarky tone in her voice, and if it had been anyone other than Mandy she’d have had a fit. As it was, Mandy was one of her dearest friends, and she reserved the “Mrs. Prudell” stuff for whenever there was a client around. Otherwise, Mandy was just as likely to tell it like it was as anyone else Stacy was lucky enough to have in her inner circle.

“Mrs. D’Argenzio, thank you for coming in today. And Miss D’Argenzio, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Stacy gushed in her usual reserved, professional yet eager manner, the tone she adopted whenever she met a new bride and her mother for the first time. It would only take a minute or two to figure out if these two were going to be calm and easy to work with, or if they were going to be bridezilla and mother-of-bridezilla. Stacy hoped against hope that they would go the easy route, but considering her run of luck lately, it was a wonder they hadn’t entered her spacious office with their claws and fangs already bared.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Prudell,” the mother gushed with a huge smile. “It’s wonderful to meet someone whose reputation precedes her like yours does!” The woman practically fainted in front of Stacy from adoration, and the horror began anew.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but you must have me confused with Abigail Prudell, my… aunt. I’m Anastacia Prudell,” Stacy said carefully.
God, forgive me for lying! Please don’t strike me dead right here where I’m standing, it’ll ruin the Persian rug!

“Huh. I’m sorry, I thought we had an appointment with Mrs. Prudell. We were told to ask for her specifically.” The bride and her mother exchanged a worried look, one that said things were quickly unraveling for them and they didn’t know how to stop it.

“Well, I’m certain I’m the Mrs. Prudell you were told to see,” Stacy said with a reassuring smile. “My aunt has been on extended rest for some time now, so I will be handling all of the details of your special day personally.”

“Then I guess that’s okay,” Mrs. D’Argenzio continued. “We’re relatively new here, you see, and we were just told you were the person to see to handle the wedding. My daughter here…” The woman paused and gestured to her daughter. “…is marrying her childhood sweetheart, and everything must be perfect. We promised her it would be perfect!”

“And so it shall be!” Stacy declared with a smile. “But you said you were new here. Where are you from originally?”

“We moved down here from New York when my husband bought the golf course and country club a year ago. That’s where we plan to have the reception, after having the service at the church, of course. We’re Catholic, and I know that can be a problem for people down here,” the woman said pointedly, as if daring Stacy to object. Stacy didn’t blink.

“Oh, I think you’ll find that’s not really an issue for people anymore, not like it was. Times have changed, I assure you. But let me get some questionnaire forms for us to go over, and we’ll get started with the planning.”

An hour later, Stacy’s mind was reeling from the prospect of one of the strangest wedding ceremonies she’d handled in a long time, and a reception that was going to encompass nearly twelve hours and three venues. And that was just on the actual day of the wedding. The rehearsal and its dinner were to be held in another venue, one that had to be large enough to hold the forty-two members of the wedding party and the more than one hundred guests. She ducked her head briefly and enjoyed a few quick deep breathing exercises before looking up and smiling confidently at her clients.

“Is that all? Good. I’ll have Mandy supply you with a few more forms and our bride’s book so you can keep track of things as they come to you, and don’t hesitate to let me know if you have any requests or changes.”

“That’s it? We tell you we want a wedding for almost twelve hundred people, and all you have to do is give us a book to write in? Color me impressed, Mrs. Prudell,” Mrs. D’Argenzio said, sitting back in her chair and letting the stress melt off of her.

“Please, don’t give it another thought. You and your daughter are in good hands, Mrs. D’Argenzio.” Stacy beamed and stood up, smoothing her pencil skirt and blazer before gesturing towards the door. “Can we get you anything before you go? Mandy will be happy to show you to our dining room where our chef has prepared a light lunch.”

Mother and daughter smiled at the service before turning and letting Stacy lead them out of the office, then followed Mandy down the hall to their lunch while they filled out their paperwork. Mandy returned to find Stacy collapsed against the wall outside her office, her hand pressed to her middle as she took deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” her assistant hissed urgently, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one could see Stacy having what looked like a break down right there in the hallway.

“I’m fine, I just need a second to catch my breath,” Stacy answered, darting her eyes this way and that to make sure no one was witnessing her mini-panic attack.

“Well then get yourself together! What is wrong with you? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What?! Why would your mind even go there? No, I’m just envisioning a somewhat difficult wedding and reception that has more people than my high school did. That’s all, no big deal. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Get a grip, Stace! We handle events with that many people all the time! What is your damage?” Mandy insisted while tenderly brushing a stray lock of hair back into her boss’ tightly wound bun. “Is there something going on with you?”

“No! I told you, I’m fine!” Stacy looked away, a sure sign that she wasn’t telling the whole truth. Mandy narrowed her eyes and watched her boss warily for a moment. She could read Stacy’s tells like a veteran poker player, but decided to let it go this time. “I’m just… I’m a little overwhelmed. That was all too easy.”

“What do you mean?” Mandy asked, cocking her head and waiting for an explanation. Stacy shook her head.

“I don’t know, that’s the problem. There was no arguing, no speaking through clenched teeth, no eye rolling from the bride, no ‘I’m putting my foot down’ from the mother… I’m waiting for someone to pull the rug out from under me. I’m sure I’m just being weird ever since… never mind.” Stacy still hadn’t told anyone about the surprise appearance of her old classmate, and she intended to keep it that way.

“Okay then. I’m gonna get their papers in order and take them down to them. Why don’t you call that pretty husband of yours and take him to lunch? Get your mind off things here for a while?” Stacy nodded. “Good. I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone, but don’t make this into an ‘afternoon delight’ or anything. We all got places to go today, and the way you two have been going at it none of us will get out of here before sundown.”

Mandy walked off down the hall, leaving Stacy to stare after her in shock. She finally recovered enough to call out in a hoarse whisper, “We are not ‘going at it!’” but the thought of a few hours in bed with Nathan was almost enough to take her mind off her current worries. “Well, not right this minute, anyway!”

Stacy was sure she could hear Mandy laughing as she walked down the hallway. She leaned back against the wall and let calming thoughts of Nathan flood her mind. Her sweet husband, the man who’d waited for her forever, it seemed like, was enough to bring a sense of serenity to her otherwise chaotic life. And she desperately loved him for it.

“
T
his can’t be happening
! How did we mess this up?” Tori cried, pointing a blood red fingernail at the stack of papers in her hand. Stacy rushed over to see what had her normally even-keeled friend and employee so up in arms. The head designer looked at Stacy with a mixture of horror and grief.

“What’s wrong?” Stacy asked, coming to stand next to Tori and looking over the papers in her hands, their edges crumpling under the force of the panic-stricken woman’s grip.

“How could we have scheduled two identical styles of weddings on the same day, with the names so close? We have the D’Argenzio/Alessio wedding on the 21
^st
, and the Dargent/Alexei wedding the same day! When did we become self-hating morons, hell-bent on destroying ourselves in a fiery chasm of suffering?!”

Stacy looked sheepish and instinctively stepped out of arm’s reach. “It’s not a mistake. I mean, it looks like a mistake, just in the typing, but that’s because there are all kinds of aliases involved. It’s the… same wedding.” She waited silently for Tori to process her words and react violently, but the designer simply looked confused.

“No, it’s not. They’re close, but they’re not completely the same. See?” Tori held out the papers for Stacy to look closer, but there was no need. Stacy shook her head.

“No, they’re the same. The different spellings are to throw off any snoopers, like the press, any law enforcement, anyone with a grudge, the maphmfba,” she finished, letting the last word fizzle away into incoherent nonsense before Tori could hear her correctly.

“Wait a minute, did you just say ‘the mafia’? What the heck does the mob have to do with this?” she asked, innocent as a newborn babe. Her expression gradually darkened until she was positively glaring at Stacy. “Stace, oh my god, what have you done? Is this seriously the D’Argenzios from the newspapers? And by newspapers, I mean the crime report, not the society pages.”

“We were approached by a bride who has enlisted our help to make her special day perfect, that’s all,” Stacy answered haughtily, straightening her posture and pushing her shoulders back in an air of false confidence. “And if she happens to be connected to a powerful family from New York, then that’s no concern of ours.”

“Except the father of the bride made you an offer you couldn't refuse,” Jeremiah, the lead florist, said accusingly when he entered the office, shutting the door firmly behind him to make sure no one overheard anything.

“Stop being dramatic,” Stacy said before turning to Tori, “And please remember that weddings, even the difficult or different kinds, are our specialty. They’re what we’re known for. The other gala events may be in our repertoire, but without our steady business in weddings, we wouldn’t be able to keep these doors open.”

She turned her back and walked around behind her desk, falling back into her executive chair as gracefully as she could. Tori and Jeremiah exchanged a knowing look. They’d worked with Stacy for too long, and been friends with her for all that time. They could read her like a phone book, and there was something she wasn’t telling them. They slowly approached Stacy’s desk, their arms crossed menacingly over their chests.

“Okay, fine!” Stacy cried, dropping her forehead to her hands where they were propped up on the desk. “You broke me, I’ll talk!” She sat up and leaned back in her chair, looking at the ceiling for a minute while trying to figure out how to break the news to two of her closest friends.

“This is… a double ceremony…”

“WHAT?!” Tori and Jeremiah shrieked in unison. Outside Stacy’s office door, the sound of a thud—the sound of someone possibly fainting in the hallway—echoed hollowly. Tori and Jeremiah both ignored the ominous sound and started speaking at once.

“You promised you wouldn’t do this to us again! Have you gone crazy?! What if we don’t survive this time? Tell me it’s not twins, please tell me it’s not twins!”

“This isn’t what they mean by ‘double ring,’ Stacy! Even the people who coined the term ‘double ring’ were still only talking about one couple! You know why that is? Because when you get more than one couple involved in a wedding, the end result is chaos!”

Stacy waited morosely for the volume of their voices to drop just a smidge before even trying to explain. Her two friends gestured wildly as they continued to yell, each one struggling to be heard over the other one. Jeremiah actually made a swiping motion with his fingertip like someone’s throat being slashed while Tori gestured with her hands as though she was wringing someone’s neck and shaking the very life out of him.

“You guys, come on now… that’s enough. Stop, you’re getting all worked up for nothing,” Stacy said pleadingly. They both whirled around and looked at their boss like she’d sprouted a new head.

“Nothing? We’re getting worked up over nothing? Have you forgotten the Hindenburg wedding?” Tori demanded.

“Hillenburg,” Jeremiah corrected, “but I can see how you made that Freudian slip.”

“Guys, this isn’t going to be a Hillenburg repeat, I promise. First of all, these two aren’t far apart in age like the Hinden—I mean, Hillenburgs. Yes, the D’Argenzios are twins, and AnaMaria and Caterina have been close their entire lives. They’ve always dreamed of getting married at the same time, and one of them has been engaged for nearly two years waiting for her sister to get engaged. The mother of the bride and one of the daughters came to see me to set the whole thing up since the other twin is away studying in Europe. She trusts her mom and sister to do everything! Only the kindest, most loving sisters could plan each other’s wedding for them. Trust me, this is going to be wonderful, I just know it.”

“Stacy, let’s look in my crystal ball, shall we? Do you remember the last double wedding we tried to pull off? Do you remember how many times an ambulance was called? Do you remember how we needed extra security because not only were the two families not speaking, but the two halves of the brides’ family were no longer speaking by the time the whole thing rolled around? One of the girls ended up with a half-baked church wedding while the other one took off for Vegas. Now… do you really want us to screw up that badly with a mob boss’ darling twin daughters?! We’re gonna end up sleeping with the fishes!”

“Please tell me you’ve now got all the Mafia clichés out of your system,” Stacy said, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her florist.

“One more, then I promise I’ll be done. If we screw this up, we’re all gonna be fitted with a new pair of cement shoes!” Tori high-fived Jeremiah without ever taking her angry eyes off Stacy. They both waited for their boss to respond, but she had nothing reassuring to tell them.

“It’s going to be fine. You’ll see. They’re not even having the wedding here, they’re having it at the country club, so we’ll have plenty of staff to help with the manpower. Chef Pierre is already working out the menu with the chef at the club, and he’s even agreed to take a backseat role here since the club’s chef works for the D’Argenzios. It’s gonna be okay,” she promised, her voice cracking a little.

Please let it be okay
, she thought frantically even as she beamed at her two favorite department heads. They exchanged a worried look, but eventually returned Stacy’s smile with a hesitant rendition of their own.