Page 2 of Marry Me

Megan smiled. “Perfection. You seem to have things under control.”

Her team of five was made up of smart, patient multitaskers with a mixture of personalities, on purpose. Megan appreciated their individual talents and recognized that they each served a fantastic purpose at Soiree, the wedding and event planning company she’d started twelve years earlier. Back then, it was just Megan working alone from her studio apartment, handling one wedding a weekend for very little, wearing her customary navy dresses and suits to the events, and meeting clients at cafés and coffee shops to consult. Since then, she’d grown the businessexponentially, building on one referral after the next. She’d ascended the ranks of the in-demand event planners until she sat at the top of the heap as Dallas’s most sought after, and notably most expensive, event coordinating company. They still wore their signature navy to each and every event, but nowadays, Soiree worked for top echelon clients, tackling corporate events, weddings, anniversaries, and even the occasional political gala, provided the candidate was on the correct side of the fight. Megan Kinkaid knew her business and the value she brought to her clients and had no problem charging for it. The fruits of her labor were on display in their high-end suite of offices located in the heart of downtown. Gourmet coffee, fresh pastries, and colorful floral arrangements were delivered daily from preferred vendors. Only the finest furnishings and finishes accented the suite so that it felt both sleek and comfortable for the staff and their clients. Megan aimed to impress from the moment a client walked in the door.

“About the sculpture, have your client look through Glacial Art’s portfolio. That guy might be more what she’s looking for,” Cade, her one male staffer, said to Kelsey from behind his laptop. “His stuff is a bit more stylized and less in-your-face about love and forever. If she’s going for regal and subtle, he might be the one.”

“Great rec,” Kelsey said, pointing at him with her pencil and jotting the note. “I’ll also pull his stuff for our next meeting, so we can all familiarize ourselves.”

“I love it. What else?” Megan asked from her seat at the head of the table.

“Mason wedding is this weekend,” Lourdes noted. She was a go-getter and the newest hire, having just completed her first year with the company. Young, just out of business school, but already a contender. “We’re ahead of schedule. I just need to confirm minor details with our vendors, and Elaine, the bride, was hoping you would be calling the ceremony personally. I told her I’d find out your schedule.”

Megan smiled. “You can tell Elaine that I will most certainly be there, calling the show from my headset. In fact, I’ll join you for the meeting, so she knows I’m in the loop.” Megan understood that people booked with Soiree because of her personal reputation, and though she wasn’t project leader on every event, she tried to be as present as possible. “This afternoon, yes?”

“You got it. And it would definitely put her at ease. She’s startingthe week-of unravel.” Megan knew it well. It landed approximately five days before the big day and left a bride second-guessing every decision she’d made until she was relegated to a crying mess in the corner of her designer bedroom, clutching a bag of chips like a lifeline to Jesus.

“Then it’s our job to take that stress right off her,” Megan said calmly. She was always calm. A gift. She then picked up the lifestyle section of theDallas Morning Newsand held it up. “Next order of business.” Five heads swiveled. “I’m not sure which of you saw, but there’s an engagement announcement for Brent Carmichael in this morning’s write-ups.”

“Get out,” Cade said. “Someone wrapped him up? How did we miss this? And how many Dallas women are sobbing on their drives to work this morning? We need to start a count.”

“I’d heard he was seeing someone, but I didn’t know we were close to marriage,” Megan said and dropped the paper onto the table. “Yet here we are. Lucky us.”

Eyebrows rose and her team exchanged glances, well aware that the Carmichaels’ oldest son’s wedding would be the society event of the year. Megan pressed on, “While it would be great to have our name all over this one, I want everyone to play it cool. Let the Carmichaels come to Soiree if they think we can get the job done. They’re going to want the best at the helm, after all. No hiccups.”

“And that’s us,” Cade finished.

She smiled at him. “Exactly. I know Brent Carmichael, and he’ll get it. We’ve handled the BeLeaf Foods Christmas party for years now, and they fall all over themselves in amazement at what we’ve managed to pull off.” The Carmichaels owned a hugely popular chain of organic grocery stores in Dallas and had systematically taken in a larger share of the market each year they’d been in business. They were big players in the community and highly respected for all that they’d brought to the city. They were, quite frankly, Dallas royalty and at the top of any important guest list.

“I’m not worried. I’d say that wedding is as good as ours,” Kelsey said confidently, as if she couldn’t imagine any alternative.

Megan held up a hand. “The real question is how we make room for such a huge event on the schedule, especially if it’s quick.”

Cade nodded. “If they’re looking at anything this side of a year, it’s going to tax us. We’re already up to our eyeballs.”

Megan folded her arms and regarded her team. No.Challengedthem. “Are we up for it?”

After a pause, five faces nodded eagerly back at her, and she knew she could count on this rock-solid group.

“Who’s the bride? Do we have a name?” Demi, their office assistant, asked. Young, blond, wide-eyed, and eager to please. Megan saw her going places and hoped to groom her into a coordinator over the next year or two.

“Interestingly enough, I’ve never heard of her,” Megan said, turning the newspaper around to face the group once again. “Allison Hale. Anyone?”

“Hmm.” Kelsey squinted. “There’s the Hale family from New York. The fitness empire people with all the apparel. Maybe she’s one of them?”

“Anything is possible, but Ms. Hale landed herself the biggest fish in Dallas. But yes, there will be throngs of socialites crying into their pillows after they see this announcement.”

Miranda grinned, gleeful. “Read ’em and weep, girls. Literally.”

Cade stared at her. “You take joy in pain.”

She didn’t blink. “I bathe in the tears of the privileged.”

“So bad,” Kelsey said with a laugh. “But I think I’ll follow you to hell. Life is short.”

The meeting concluded, and after a long day of client consults and negotiating with vendors on the phone, Megan arrived at her favorite bar in downtown Dallas, Shakers. At last, she could be a person, breathe, and live life for herself. Something that didn’t happen often enough these days. It was close to eight, and she easily found Kelsey sitting at the bar, looking like the knockout she was. After a rapid-fire day at Soiree, her best friend still wore her stilettos just to grab a drink. Megan would give her one thing—they made her legs look killer. That was for damn sure. Her dark hair was clipped to the side with a stylish barrette that matched the damn shoes, and her skin was flawless. Not fair.

“I’m afraid I don’t have your shoe commitment,” Megan said, sliding onto the stool next to Kelsey’s. “At a certain hour of the day, the pretty ones have to come off. Mandated. I’m not even going to apologize for it.”

“I’m glad. My only time to sparkle is when you don’t have it inyou to try.” Kelsey sipped her drink delicately and batted her lashes. “My endurance is my saving grace.”

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