Читать книгу Bridesmaid For Hire - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 12

Chapter Two

Gina carefully hung up the light blue bridesmaid dress in her guest bedroom closet. The dress joined the vast and growing collection of other bridesmaid dresses, both long and short, that she had worn as part of the various bridal parties she’d been in. Because she had come in and in effect—at least in the bride’s eyes—saved the wedding, she’d ultimately grown incredibly close to a number of the brides, not an easy feat in the space of two or three weeks.

Some of the brides had actually stayed in touch with her, at least for a little while. The others, though, had faded into the calendar of her life.

Even so, Gina had the satisfaction of knowing that because of her, more than a few women had experienced “the happiest day of their life” without having to endure the proverbial “glitch” that had a nasty habit of cropping up.

And despite what her mother thought of her rather unusual vocation, it did provide her with a nice living. In exchange for her services, she received more than ample compensation as well as another dress to hang in her closet, thanks to the bride, and, after the ceremony had ended and the photographs were taken, there was always a wonderful array of catered food to sample.

Not that she really ate all that much of it. Despite working almost nonstop in the weeks preceding the weddings, on the big day she never seemed to have that much of an appetite. It was almost as if she was channeling the bride’s prewedding jitters even though she always appeared utterly calm and in complete control of the situation.

She supposed that was where her very brief flirtation with acting—or at least acting in her college plays—came in handy.

Gina sighed. With the latest wedding now behind her, she was, once again, unemployed.

She knew that she had word of mouth as well as a growing number of satisfied clients going for her, but even so she really needed to give some thought to building up her network, Gina decided. A network comprised of people who could call and alert her to brides in need of her very unique services.

Gina sank down on the bed, willing herself to wind down.

Each time she watched as the happy bride and groom finally drove off to begin their life together—starting with their honeymoon—amid the feeling of a job well done she also experienced just the faintest hint of feeling let down.

This time was no different. She knew her feelings were silly and she tried not to pay any attention to them, but they were there nonetheless. That tiniest spark of wondering what it might have been like if she hadn’t gotten cold feet and had instead agreed to run off with Shane that one wild, crazy night when he had suddenly turned to her and said, out of the blue, “Let’s get married.”

She supposed that her response—“Are you crazy?”—might have been a bit more diplomatic. But Shane had caught her off guard. They’d dated casually for two years but had only gotten serious in the last six months. When he’d asked her to marry him, the thought of doing something so permanent had scared her to death. She hadn’t been ready for that sort of a commitment.

And he hadn’t been ready for that kind of a total, harsh rejection. She’d regretted it almost instantly, but by then it had been too late. And she might have even said yes, she thought now. Or at least talked to him and suggested that they take things a little more slowly. But she hadn’t been thinking clearly.

They had both just graduated from college that month and life was beginning to unfold for them. There were careers to launch and so many things to do before their lives even began to take shape.

In hindsight, all that uncertainty had frightened her, too. Loving Shane had been a comfortable thing, something for her to lean on. Loving Shane wasn’t supposed to contribute to her feelings of being pressured.

Gina sighed. There was no point in going over all that now. By the time she’d worked up her nerve to apologize to Shane, to explain why she’d said what she had, it was too late. He’d taken off, vacating his apartment and leaving for parts unknown, just like that.

Nobody knew where he was.

Stop thinking about what you can’t undo, she silently ordered herself. It won’t change anything.

Dressed in her favorite outfit—cut-off jeans and a T-shirt—Gina went into her kitchen. She took out her favorite ice cream—rum raisin—and carried it into the living room. She settled down on the sectional sofa in front of her giant screen TV to binge-watch her favorite comedy series. She really needed a good laugh tonight.

Just as she turned on the set and pressed the necessary combination of buttons that got her to the first episode of the extensively long-running series—an episode she’d seen countless times before, whenever she was feeling down—her phone rang.

Gina looked at the cell accusingly. It was either someone trying to sell her some insurance—it was that time of year again she’d noticed—or it was her mother to pointedly ask her how “someone else’s wedding” went and when did she think she would get around to planning one of her own.

Telling her mother that it would happen when she found someone to stand at the altar, waiting for her, never did any good because that only had her mother remembering how much she and the rest of the family had liked Shane. Shane had managed to endear himself to them in a very short amount of time. That was ten years ago and her mother still nostalgically referred to him as “the one who got away.”

No, she definitely wasn’t up to talking to her mother tonight.

Gina glanced at the caller ID. It wasn’t her mother, or, from the looks of it, an insurance broker. The ID below the phone number proclaimed “Manetti’s Catering.”

The name seemed vaguely familiar. And then she remembered hearing the name on the radio along with the slogan “Food like Mama used to make.”

Curious, Gina set aside the half-pint of ice cream on top of a section of the newspaper on her coffee table and answered her phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a cheerful woman’s voice on the other end of the call responded. “Is this Gina Bongino?”

“Yes,” Gina answered guardedly. “This is Gina.”

She was prepared to terminate the call at a second’s notice if this turned out to be some clever telemarketer who had matched her name to her cell number.

“Forgive me for bothering you so late on a Sunday, but are you the same Gina Bongino who advertises herself as the Bridesmaid for Hire?” Theresa asked.

Before placing the call, Theresa had everything written down on a yellow pad and it was in front of her now. She didn’t want to take a chance on forgetting something or making a mistake. She, Maizie and Celia had covered all the major points before she’d even placed the call to Gina.

“I am,” Gina answered, still wondering if this was going to wind up being a crank call, or if this was actually on the level.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Theresa declared. “You don’t know me, dear, but I’m Theresa Manetti. I run a catering service and I’ve done a good many wedding receptions. Especially lately.”

“Yes?” Gina responded, waiting for the woman to get to the point. She was hoping it involved what she did, but you never knew. Maybe the woman was just looking for some advice. Or even a referral.

“I’ll get right to the point,” Theresa said as if reading her mind. “The reception I have coming up in three weeks just might wind up falling through. The poor girl who’s the bride-to-be is about to have a nervous breakdown and I was wondering—” Stumbling, Theresa took a deep breath and glanced down at her notes. She started again. “Someone told me that you offer a very unique service. You come in and handle any emergency that might come up connected to the wedding so that the bride can enjoy a stress-free wedding day.”

“That’s right,” Gina said, beginning to relax a little. This might be a job after all.

Schooling herself not to sound too eager, Theresa asked, “Just exactly what is it that you do?”

“Essentially, anything that needs to be done in order to make the wedding proceed as initially planned,” Gina answered.

“Such as?” Theresa prompted.

Gina thought for a moment before framing her answer. “Such as anything from turning ugly bridesmaid dresses into flattering ones to lining up last-minute photographers to replace the one who dropped out. The same thing goes for hairdressers and makeup artists if the bride planned on having them. You name it, I’ve probably encountered it.”

“Does that include being part of the wedding party? Because one of the bridesmaids suddenly just dropped out, leaving a lone groomsman,” Theresa explained, checking off a line on her pad.

“I’m in the background,” Gina explained. It was not her intention to take a chance on outshining any bride. “But yes, that’s what the title implies. I actually am a bridesmaid for hire,” she told the woman on the other end of the call.

She heard a large sigh of relief, something she was more than familiar with.

“Oh, you’re a godsend,” Theresa declared, and she was only half acting.

“I will need to talk to the bride herself to make sure she’s on board,” Gina told the caller before things progressed any further. “To be honest, it’s usually the bride or a member of her family who hires me. I’ve never had a caterer ask me to help out the bride before,” she said.

“Oh, I quite understand and I realize this is unusual, but then, so’s a bridesmaid for hire,” Theresa pointed out.

“Can’t argue with you there,” Gina agreed with a soft laugh.

“I did talk to Sylvie about you as soon as I became aware that there was someone like you who did this kind of thing,” Theresa explained. “And she told me to go ahead and see if she could hire you. As I said, the wedding’s in three weeks and it seems like everything that could go wrong at this point has.”

She’d dealt with situations like that before, Gina thought. “As long as the bride and groom are there, the rest can be managed,” she assured the motherly sounding woman on the other end.

“Well, with your help, I’m sure that they’ll be there all right,” Theresa told her, smiling to herself. This was actually going to work, she thought. Wait until she called Maizie and Celia. “And they’re such a cute couple. They’re really made for each other.”

The woman sounded more like a mother than a caterer, Gina thought. “Sounds good,” she told Theresa. “Now, if you can give me the particulars, I’ll place the call to—Sylvie is it?”

“It’s Sylvia, actually. Sylvia Stevens, but everyone just calls her Sylvie. She looks like a Sylvie,” Theresa told her. There was a fond note in her voice that Gina immediately picked up on.

“Give me her cell number and her address and I’ll give her a call first thing in the morning to make the arrangements,” Gina said.

Theresa gave her the information, enunciating everything slowly so that Gina didn’t miss a thing. “I want you to know that you’re the answer to a prayer,” she added with just the right amount of feeling. She didn’t really have to pretend all that much. After all, Sylvie was going to pieces.

“It’ll be my pleasure to do whatever needs to be done to make sure Sylvie has as perfect a wedding day as humanly possible,” Gina assured the woman.

“Speaking of which, there is just one more thing,” Theresa said. She’d saved the most important part for last because she wanted to make sure that Gina was fully engaged in this endeavor before she told the young woman about this part.

Gina had no idea why, but she could feel herself suddenly bracing. What was the woman going to ask for? “Yes?”

“I’m going to be short staffed for the rest of the month—” Theresa began, easing her way into this final chapter.

Gina wanted to quickly stop the woman before this went any further. “I’m afraid that catering the reception is a little out of my league, Mrs. Manetti. Especially if I’m going to be in the wedding party and seeing to other details,” she told Theresa.

“Oh no, dear, it’s nothing like that,” Theresa was quick to assure her. “The fact of the matter is, the bride requested to have her cake done by this cake designer she heard about. His work is in high demand. Perhaps you’ve heard of him as well?” Theresa asked, hoping against hope that Gina’s answer would be negative. “Cakes Created by Cassidy.”

Theresa held her breath, waiting for Gina’s response. She caught herself crossing her fingers as the seconds ticked by.

“No,” Gina finally admitted. “I can’t say that I have,” she added, still waiting to find out just what it was that Theresa was going to ask her to do.

Theresa slowly released the breath she’d been holding, being careful not to alert the young woman on the other end that there was anything out of the ordinary going on.

“Well, because I have all these other catering affairs between now and Sylvie’s wedding, I was wondering if you could handle ordering the cake from this Cassidy person. Sylvie will give you all her requirements when you talk to her.”

The request was doable, but it struck her as being a little strange. “Wouldn’t she and the groom want to sample the cake before they put in their final order?” Gina asked.

In her experience, the bride and groom usually sampled a great many cakes before they settled on their final choice.

“Oh no,” Theresa quickly shot down the idea. “Sylvie worked furiously to diet down so that she could fit into this dress. Now that she’s the right size, she’s desperately trying not to gain any weight between now and the wedding. That also includes not doing any cake sampling.”

Theresa paused for a second to catch her breath before continuing. “That would be what she wanted you for, along with an entire myriad of other bride-related things that ordinarily don’t add up to that much but right now, as I told you, Sylvie is tottering on the brink of a nervous breakdown. To be honest, no one knows what might just push her over the edge. Would you mind terribly meeting with this cake designer and taking care of this for her?”

“Eating a slice of cake made by an in-demand cake decorator? No, not a bit,” Gina answered with a laugh. She glanced over at her melting rum raisin. “Is there anything else, Mrs. Manetti?”

“No, nothing I can think of at the moment,” Theresa answered breezily.

“Then thank you for the call and the opportunity. I’ll get right on this tomorrow morning,” she said again. “And I’ll call you once I speak with Sylvie.”

“Wonderful. And I look forward to meeting you in person, dear,” Theresa told her. “And again, I’m sorry for having to call so late but I just got off the phone with Sylvie and I knew that something needed to be done quickly.”

She did have one question. “Who told you about me again?” Gina asked. The woman hadn’t been quite clear as to who had given the caterer her name when she’d first called.

Theresa quickly checked her notes, finding the name that she was told to use.

“Virginia Gallagher told me about you, although her name is Price now. The Gallagher-Price wedding,” she threw in to substantiate her story.

Gina thought for a moment. “I was in that wedding party over a year ago,” she remembered.

“And Virginia—she’s a friend of my daughter’s—is still singing your praises,” Theresa said, hoping that would seal the deal.

She knew that she and her two coconspirators in matchmaking needed to make sure that Gina didn’t suspect anything was amiss as she engaged the professional bridesmaid’s services to help smooth out another wedding in possible turmoil. That meant not focusing too much on the additional assignment of selecting the cake. The whole idea here was to get her down to the Cakes Created by Cassidy shop so she could cross paths with Shane after all these years.

From everything that she and her friends had managed to uncover, Gina and Shane had once been the absolute epitome of a perfect match and for all intents and purposes, it seemed that they still were. They just needed to be made to realize that again.

“Oh, and I intend to pay you extra for this cake service you’ll be performing since technically, it isn’t something you would ordinarily do,” Theresa interjected, hoping that would do the trick.

But Theresa hadn’t counted on Gina’s integrity. “How’s that again? You want to pay me extra for procuring the wedding cake.”

Theresa hesitated for a moment. “Well, the caterer usually provides the cake unless the bride has other ideas.”

“Wouldn’t that still come out of the bride’s pocket—so to speak? That makes it part of the package deal between the bride and me,” Gina concluded.

“Perhaps, but I don’t want Sylvie stressing out any more than she already is,” Theresa said, hoping that would satisfy Gina and put an end to any further questions, at least for the time being. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, dear,” Theresa promised just before she quickly terminated the call.

Strange, Gina thought. But then, so was what she did for a living. Especially in her mother’s eyes. The bottom line was that she was employed again.

This was good. This was very, very good.

She could feel herself growing enthusiastic, the way she always did at the beginning of a new assignment.

She looked over toward the coffee table. Her ice cream had turned into soup.

Getting up, Gina picked up the rum raisin container and took it back to the freezer so that she could turn the soup back into ice cream again.

She was whistling as she went.