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What other explanation could there be for this breaking news that the Wedding Angel will plan the Carmichael/Girard wedding?
While the names of the bride and groom may not be readily recognizable, their connection to the well-known Downey family may ring some bells.
Raymond Girard is none other than the brother-in-law of Maxim Downey, newspaper magnate and heir to the multigenerational dynasty.
So how did the Wedding Angel—whose tattered reputation has her scurrying into the backwater of her hometown to lick her wounds—manage to contract an event that is sure to garner a vast amount of media attention?
The luck of the devil?
Or, if readers don’t have a religious bent there’s the much more worldly explanation.
The Wedding Angel is calling in favors.
Let’s ask ourselves: who in their right mind would pay seriously good money to invite chaos and mayhem to their special event? People currently under contract must be asking themselves if there’s some sort of curse dogging their wedding planner.
And what disaster will strike next?
Of course these unfortunate victims have already paid huge sums to engage her services and don’t have much choice but to hold their collective breath and hope her luck isn’t devolving into something of monumental proportions.
So the Wedding Angel muscles her way into a new contract that will—let’s hope!—clean up her muddy reputation, and she manipulates everyone she knows in the process. Who else but family and close friends would court disaster (and risk political suicide at the all-important start of a career) by allowing the Wedding Angel to plan an event?
Who else, indeed?
Visit the Wedding Angel’s photo gallery on her website to see proof of how far back her connection to the Downey family and Overlook goes.
Today’s poll: Will the Wedding Angel pull off her own Miracle on the Hudson or will she crash and burn? Cast your vote.
THE BLACKBERRY VIBRATED on Lily’s pillow. Her eyes shot open wide and she took in the dark bedroom to orient herself.
Riley’s wedding. Pleasant Valley. Her parents’ house.
Weird how she’d grown up in this bedroom but no longer thought of it as home. Then again maybe not so weird because a lifetime had passed since she’d lived here. She was on the road so much even her place didn’t feel much like home. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she reached for the phone and glanced at the display. Not her alarm but a text message.
What is going on with the Carmichael/Girard wedding? Anything I need to know?
The message was from her local office manager, Mara, who would—naturally—be in the office before the sun came up. Which was precisely why Lily had promoted Mara from the position of Manhattan assistant to handle this office.
Mara Tepper had been with Worldwide Weddings Unlimited ever since Lily had contracted her as temporary help for the Bristow/Sonnenburg wedding in the Hamptons nearly five years ago. With half the Democratic National Party in attendance, she’d had to call in two crews from the field, as well as hire local labor.
When several of Lily’s crew became sick with an unfortunate case of food poisoning barely thirty-six hours before the event, she discovered Mara knew her way around weddings. Within a year she’d become an assistant in the Manhattan office. A few years after that she was running this branch in Poughkeepsie.
Lily didn’t bother texting a reply, but instead depressed the speed dial. The first ring had barely ended before the call connected.
“I thought that inquiry was on top of the queue for the next proposal review,” Mara said.
Lily sighed. “It was. Now it’s a go.”
“Um, yeah. Got that part. Ginger’s been talking about the wedding nonstop. She seems to think you’ve already agreed, and I didn’t have the heart to break it to her. The part I don’t get is why I had to read that you’d accepted the job online.”
Lily usually awoke with a clear head. Whether she was a morning person or because she lived in a constant state of semianxiety, she wasn’t sure, but this morning she must not have been thinking as clearly as usual. “What are you talking about? I simply…well, not agreed per se, but sort of got maneuvered and guilted into saying yes.”
“Lily, what are you doing? You need a vacation.”
“It’ll have to wait.”
“Even so, how on earth can you possibly squeeze in another event?”
“We’ll manage.”
“This is not doable. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now. We’re forty-eight hours out in Brussels. Three weeks in Los Angeles. Six in Geneva and Aruba.” Mara paused to exhale an exasperated breath. “You’ve got four more events in production right behind those and that lineup doesn’t include my office, which you well know operates like the redheaded stepchild.”
A rather witty comment as Mara was a tried-and-true redhead—freckles and all. But the pressure Lily suddenly felt precluded humor.
“I know. And I refused. Everyone ganged up on me. It would have taken the Jets’ defensive line to stop them.” The muscle under her left eye twitched. “But what do you mean you read about it on the internet? Where?”
“The All About Angel blog.”
How could a day go south so fast? “You. Are. Kidding. Me.”
“Not kidding. Log on and read it for yourself if you must, but that would be an unpleasant way to start the morning. And you’ve got unpleasantries that takes precedence, I’m afraid. There are some unhappy media outlets at the moment. You promised an exclusive. I followed up last night by assuring they’d get one.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. Several have already read the bogus blogger and word’s getting around fast, apparently. My inbox was practically smoking when I logged on this morning.”
Lily rubbed at the twitching muscle. “Let me check something and call you back.”
She had no clue what Max’s typical morning schedule might look like beyond knowing he had to get Madeleine off to school. If it was a little early for him…well, he could lose some sleep. She certainly would because of this big wedding he’d dropped in her lap.
Scrolling through the contacts on her phone, she found his number.
He answered quickly. “Lily Susan.” His voice soft and gravelly, a morning voice.
“Good morning, Max. I’ve got a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“After you left here, did you speak with your mother last night about your brother-in-law’s wedding?”
“No. I didn’t actually see her last night. She and my father had some sort of engagement that kept them out late. How come?”
Lily frowned. That wasn’t what she’d expected at all. But she couldn’t imagine why he’d lie when he’d been so blunt with his opinions.
The prodigal, indeed.
“The All About Angel blogger somehow knows I’ve confirmed for your wedding.”
“You thought I jumped on the exclusive?” He sounded offended.
“That seemed the most likely way for the news to get out. I mean, your mother thought I’d already agreed. I wonder where she could have gotten that idea?”
The cad didn’t even bother defending himself. “Did you agree?”
She wanted to say no, simply because he was irking her. “I agreed.”
“I thank you, then.” That voice rippled through all her still-sleepy places without permission. “I know you wanted to relax on this trip, and you will. Like your mom said yesterday, you’ll have help. You have my word that I’ll pitch in any way I can.”
“Oh, you will, and I’ll need help. Lots and lots of it. Be forewarned.”
“Not a problem.” There was a chuckle in there. “And for the record, I would not jump on an exclusive, even if I had spoken with my mother last night. But I didn’t know you’d agreed. I can prove it—”
“You don’t have to prove anything, Max. I don’t think you’re a liar for the record. Merely pushy. And I can’t figure out what’s going on. Two days in a row, I’ve got personal information going public without my knowledge or consent.”
“That is disturbing. Any ideas?”
“No clue. I didn’t tell anyone.” Because she was still in denial over being outmaneuvered so handily. She’d wanted to savor the first night of her vacation in peace. “My assistant in Manhattan doesn’t have a clue. The last he heard, we’d put the inquiry on top of the pile for the next review meeting. And I didn’t even talk to my office manager here after I confirmed with your mother.”
“Could the blogger be speculating? You’ve said yourself that their information isn’t accurate.”
“But how would the blogger even know about the wedding? Unless he or she was at the airport yesterday when you announced— Damn it.” She practically growled. “It’s in the news. The press might not know whether or not I was planning the wedding, but they knew I was considering it.”
There was silence for so long that suddenly Lily knew without a shred of doubt where she’d find the first headline.
“You didn’t.” Not a question.
“Well, it is news.” He didn’t sound in the least bit repentant. “Big news.”
“Max, you knew I was trying to lay low—”
“Excuse me, got to run. I hear Madeleine.”
Before the call disconnected, she could hear his throaty laughter.
Argh!
Her feet hit the floor and slid right into the slippers perched beside the bed. She snatched her robe off the poster and thrust her arms into the sleeves while heading out the door. With the bulk of her life spent traveling, her wardrobe was public ready. Hotels. Rentals. Recreational vehicles. Whatever. She’d long ago established routines to make temporary housing comfortable, which meant being always prepared to meet people.
The shadowy house in the quiet predawn felt vaguely familiar as she descended the stairs with the phone cradled against her ear. Another lifetime. She bypassed the front door because the telltale clinking of china let her know someone was awake. She found her dad at the kitchen table.
No surprises here. He’d always been an early riser, preferring a leisurely awakening over coffee and the newspaper before heading to the hardware store. Her mother had probably set up the coffeepot last night before she went to bed, so the brew would be ready by the time he’d gotten the paper from the yard and settled at the table. A once-familiar routine.
“You made the front page,” he informed her without glancing away from the sports section.
How he knew it was her was another question. Lily had long ago accepted Dad had a sixth sense when it came to his kids. Her and Mike, anyway. They were later-in-life blessings, as her mother always called them, which meant her dad had gotten a head start with parenting her siblings. He’d been tough to put one over on.
“I knew it,” she said when he handed her a section of the paper. Only in Pleasant Valley would I be front page news. In the civilized world, I’m relegated to local and society pages, and that’s fine by me.
She reassembled the mess her dad had made of the newspaper enough to find the front page. The headline read:
Extreme Romance Hits Hudson Valley
She scanned the article. Title aside, which made Worldwide Weddings Unlimited sound like the worst sort of reality show, the piece was well-written and slanted to stake claim to her success. Max had provided the details of her arrival and established her roots in the area from her birth at St. Francis Hospital through graduation from Vassar College. He plugged the hardware store, too.
But his account of the Carmichael/Girard wedding was factual—currently under inquiry. And while he detailed his brother-in-law’s intention to campaign for governor, Max was very clear on the fact the wedding hadn’t been contracted yet.
She couldn’t fault him anywhere.
And she wanted to, so badly.
Why was he under her skin so completely? Because he was bullying her? Must be. Tossing the section on her dad’s pile, she headed toward the coffeepot while dialing Mara again.
“I had a thought,” Mara said. “Could the blogger be monitoring the wire services? If so, he or she might have read what happened when you got off the plane yesterday.”
“That was my thought. We need to see what time the entry posted.” Grabbing a mug from the drain board, she poured coffee then headed to the enclosed porch so she could talk without disturbing her dad.
“You know what bothers me, Mara? The way the legit media is monitoring that nobody blog. That’s worrisome.”
“Agreed, but don’t be too surprised. It’s dog-eat-dog out there. Print media is fighting to survive in the digital age. They’re monitoring everything to get a jump on everyone else.”
“Tabloid reporters, maybe.”
A chuckle on the other end. “You wish. If you didn’t want to risk a leak, then you should have kept your arrival quiet like you said you were going to.”
“I did.”
There was a beat of silence. “Oh, my apologies. I assumed you changed your mind and didn’t see fit to notify me.”
Lily was already tired of assumptions and the sun wasn’t even up yet. “Why would you think that? If I didn’t tell you, how would you keep me organized on this trip?”
“Like you need my help with that. You’re a machine, and you know it. I’m just making it possible for you to take on more work than humanly possible when you’re already superhumanly tired.” Mara gave a short laugh. “Any clue who sprung the leak? You told everyone to keep their mouths shut. I can’t imagine anyone deliberately… Max didn’t say anything, did he? Is this a strong-arm tactic?”
“I thought so at first, too, but he received an email about my arrival. I don’t think he’d lie.”
“This has gone beyond the mere celebrity stalker with nothing better to do than rant online,” Mara said. “I’m getting a sense this blogger has a bitch to square with you. What about your ex? Or his new girlfriend?”
“I can’t imagine he’d stoop that low.” At least, she hoped not. Could she honestly have missed that the man was that depraved? “And Lucas doesn’t have a new girlfriend from what I understand. He dropped the fling as soon as he found out she was the one to give the story to the press. He doesn’t want the bad publicity any more than I do. His company has taken an even worse hit. So what possible bitch could the ex-fling have to square with me? I’m not the morally bankrupt gold digger, remember?”
“You make her look bad.”
“I didn’t say one word.” Lily rested her forehead against the chilled glass. “All I’ve said is no comment.”
“Of course. You’ve been brilliant. That’s why she looks so bad. Try to come at it from her point of view. She makes a bid for the big leagues by getting involved with your fiancé. She tips off the paparazzi, so they’re caught and she’s suddenly all over the news. You dump the jerk and call off the wedding. The jerk freaks with the media explosion and dumps the fling. The whole situation is Emmelina in reverse. Look at what that fiasco has done for Drew Hatcher’s ex-wife. She jumped from television to movies and landed a fifteen-million-dollar deal.”
Just what Lily wanted to do—go from the media’s favorite wedding planner to their favorite victim. “Shoot. Me. Now.”
“Oh, come on, now. If Martha can weather jail, you can weather a breakup and some bad press.” Mara was nothing if not pragmatic. “Now what do you want me to do about the exclusive?”
“Give it to them. Tell them not to put so much stock in worthless internet speculation.” She heaved a sigh. “Tell them I reviewed the inquiry last night. It’s official if they want to go to print. I’ll be hammering out the details today and will make them available by their first deadline. If they break the news online, all I can tell them now is the function will be at Overlook around Thanksgiving and will launch Raymond Girard’s political career. Max’s article will prove I didn’t give the jump to anyone.”
She might have to thank him instead of blame him for keeping her in the news. The front page? Honestly.
“Got it,” Mara said. “When will you get the details to me?”
“As soon as I track down Max.” Which meant she wouldn’t be doing much work on Riley’s wedding today. Wonderful. And she had a grand total of three and a half weeks to plan that one.
Lily sipped her coffee and stared as the sunrise slowly lit the swing and the trees. How did she wind up back here again?
“How in the world am I going to pull this off?” A rhetorical question that echoed dully in the predawn quiet. “I’m going to need a miracle.”
“You’re the angel. I don’t think a miracle will be a problem.”
Lily found herself smiling. “I’ll be by later so I can start delegating. Will you be around? What do you have on your plate with the Eversham/Raichle event today?”
“I’m in the office, so come at your convenience.”
“Great. See you then.” Lily disconnected then set the cup on the windowsill. With the smile still on her face, she tweeted:
I don’t believe in luck. I believe in blessings, common sense, a strong work ethic and surrounding myself with wonderful, competent people—my life is filled with them.
That was as much of a rebuttal as her followers would get today, and Mara would know how much she was appreciated.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MAX SQUINTED at the computer monitor. Leaning in closer to the display, he scanned the dummy Riley had sent detailing the proposed layout of copy and photos for tomorrow’s edition. Of course it was still early in the day yet, so the layout was bound to change as reporters returned from the field and news broke over the wire services. But Riley was never one to save things until the last minute, and that lent a level of calm to the newsroom that Max enjoyed a great deal.
Promoting her to managing editor had been a smart move, as he’d known it would be. They’d been friends since Riley had interned at the Herald as an undergrad at Vassar. He knew her work. Knew the friend she was. Life had dealt both of them hard blows with death and grief, and that had made their friendship even stronger.
He’d met resistance from his family over Riley’s lack of actual experience, of course, but she knew her way around the newsroom and Max knew Riley. She learned on her feet and was the best person for the job.
He’d won that skirmish. Largely because his grandfather had supported the decision. He may have retired from the Herald, but he hadn’t stepped down from his role of family patriarch yet.
An electronic screech cut through the quiet, and Max reached for the intercom. He didn’t get a chance to say a word before his assistant’s voice said, “Code 125.”
His mother swept into his office the way she always did—as if she owned the place. She did, so her refusal to knock wasn’t personal. And she wasn’t the only one with that sense of entitlement, either. Various Downey family members could be counted on to show up unannounced at any time of the day or night, which was a job hazard of working in any of the family businesses. His clever assistant had come up with a series of codes to give Max a heads-up on who was about to barge into his office.
“What a nice surprise, Mom. What brings you by today?” he asked, although he suspected he already knew the answer.
She was carrying a copy of today’s edition.
“Hello, Maxim.” She didn’t say another word. Dropping her purse into a chair, she cocked a hip against his desk and peered down at him.
His mother had always been an attractive woman. Quite beautiful even with the black hair and green eyes she’d passed along to him. She was tall and willowy with the benefit of a fleet of capable cosmetic surgeons who kept age at bay. Not that she was elderly by any stretch. She hadn’t yet reached her mid-sixties and wore that stylish, timeless aura privilege and breeding could buy.
He waited while she shook open the paper to display the headline above the fold.
Extreme Romance Hits Hudson Valley
“Catchy headline. Bet there isn’t a paper left in a box anywhere in this town.” She smiled, clearly pleased. “Here’s hoping.”
“You did a fine job with the article, Maxim. Informative and tasteful.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
Mission accomplished, then. He’d known when he’d written the piece a lot of folks would be paying close attention. His mother included, as it concerned her favorite pet project.
Worldwide Weddings Unlimited.
“I do.” She set down the paper. “And that’s why I’m here. Now that Lily’s in town, we need to make some decisions regarding Raymond’s wedding. I’m on my way into the office to meet with her. I thought you might want to weigh in.”
Very nice of her to consider him since he was, of course, hosting the event. But here was something else Max knew wasn’t personal. Any event involving Overlook and Worldwide Weddings Unlimited would create a pot his mother simply wouldn’t be able to resist stirring. Overlook was her home, too, and as the reigning matriarch, all things social were her exclusive domain. That unspoken rule had been set in stone for more generations than Max had been around.
But he sometimes thought they’d all be better off if they put his mother to work at any one of their business interests since his mother’s charitable endeavors and social calendar obviously weren’t fulfilling her. She was a smart woman. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see her catering to VIP clients at the bank. Dictating more described her personal style.
“Raymond and Jamilyn have given me a general idea of what they’re looking for,” he said. “Shouldn’t be too hard to figure things out. They’ll be calling whenever they’re able, and they’re both accessible by email when they can’t make a phone call.”
“Maxim, that’s all well and good, but this is going to be a grand affair. Raymond’s future career is on the line here, and you’ve already given the media a heads-up. Add Lily’s involvement and this wedding simply must live up to its press. I’m afraid the planning won’t be quite as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
“So I’ve heard.” From a very beautiful wedding planner in no uncertain terms.
She leaned forward and patted his cheek, her fond smile making him brace himself before she uttered her next words. “Leave everything to me. Lily’s here and we’ve got Mara and the office at our disposal. We’ll run everything by you if you’re worried. We all know how busy you are.”
“I’m not worried, Mother.” A lie if ever there was one, but here was a place where all of Lily Susan’s arguments came in handy. “I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves, though. Lily Susan only heard about the wedding the day before yesterday. She has another wedding to plan first.”
His mother waved him off with an impeccably manicured hand. “She can plan more than one wedding at a time. That’s her job.”
Given Lily Susan’s history, the assumption was a reasonable one. But his mother didn’t know how exhausted Lily Susan was, although saying so might violate what she’d told him in confidence. “I’m only pointing out that we’ve sprung this on her, and it won’t serve anyone’s purpose if we don’t give her a chance to figure out her own schedule.”
His mother frowned. “She needs to move on this. There’s isn’t much time.”
“Give her some room, please.”
“Honestly, Maxim. I gave the girl her start in business, and she’s still my partner. We enjoy working together. It’s going to be fun.”
Fun? The only fun that Max could see in the entire equation was the time he could spend with Lily Susan. But he’d barely admitted that to himself—and certainly wasn’t ready to say a word to his mother.
Lily Susan intrigued him more than he’d expected. Her cool, polished exterior contrasted with the warmth she’d shown with his daughter. And the challenge in her eyes fascinated him. Especially her strength and the vulnerability he sensed she was hiding. Oh, yeah, the woman fascinated him.
He was having life signs where he’d least expected them. Figured that he’d start to emerge from his shell for a woman who in no way meshed with any aspect of his life.
Max leaned back in his chair and considered his reply. He needed to redirect before his mother thought she had permission to assume control. His mother understood money.