Page 36 of Fall Surprises
"The note is right here! 'Stormi, I'm sorry but I can't marry Blaze. Jett and I are in love. We're eloping. Take care of everything for me. Love, Raven.' That's it! That's all she wrote after making me stand by her through all of this!"
More notifications flooded Sam's phone.
"I have to go," Stormi choked out. "Diana's here with cameras. Oh God, this is a nightmare."
The line went dead.
Sam stared at her phone as it continued to ping. She angled it so I could read the latest incoming text, from the producer in all caps: "THIS IS TELEVISION GOLD! GET EVERYONE READY FOR INTERVIEWS!"
"My reputation is ruined." Sam's voice came out as barely a whisper. "No one will ever hire me again. The Monroe-Carrington wedding was supposed to launch me to the next level, and now—"
She scrambled out of bed, grabbing her terrycloth robe, fumbling with the belt until she gave up trying to tie it. I reached for her but she pulled away, already dialing Raven's number.
"Straight to voicemail," she announced, trying again. And again. "She's not answering. Of course she's not answering. She's probably already married." A hysterical laugh bubbled up. "The bride ran off with the best man. It's like a bad movie."
Her phone rang—the producer again.
"Samantha! Have you heard? This is incredible!" Diana's voice rang with excitement through the speaker. "The drama,the heartbreak, the betrayal! We're going to get so much footage today. I need you to—"
Sam hung up on her.
Then she walked into the bathroom and locked the door.
"Sam?" I pulled on my joggers and went to the door. "Sam, let me in."
"I need a minute."
But I could hear her crying—not delicate tears but body-shaking sobs that tore through me. The sound of everything she'd worked for crumbling.
For five minutes, I stood outside that bathroom door, listening to her world fall apart. Each sob hit me like a physical blow. This woman who'd orchestrated every detail down to the crumbs, who'd fought me over plating angles—reduced to this. When the crying quieted to hiccups, I tried again.
"Baby, please. Open the door."
"I can't—I can't do this. Everything's ruined. The whole world is going to watch this disaster and know I couldn't even keep the bride from getting cold feet. My business—" Her voice broke completely.
I leaned my forehead against the door. "Sam, listen to me. This isn't your fault."
"I'm the planner! It's literally my job to make sure the wedding happens!"
"You can't control people's choices. Raven made this decision, not you."
"That's not how clients will see it. Diana's going to spin this for maximum drama, and I'll be the wedding planner who’s incompetence made everything go to hell on national television."
The doorknob turned. She stood there in her robe, face blotchy and tear-stained, looking smaller than I'd ever seen her. Without thinking, I pulled her into my arms. She resisted for a beat, then collapsed against me, fresh tears soaking my chest.
"It's over," she whispered. "Everything I built."
"No." I pulled back to look at her, holding her face in my hands. "Listen to me. We have fifty people arriving in a few hours expecting an event. So we're going to give them one."
"How? There's no wedding!"
"No, but it's Halloween." The idea formed as I spoke. "We'll turn this into the best Halloween party Wintervale's ever seen. A masquerade gala. Dancing, food, costumes—the works."
"Gus, that's insane. We can't just—"
"Why not? Most of the decorations already work—the pumpkins, the autumn flowers, the lights. We clear out the ceremony chairs, expand the dance floor, add some heat lamps. I'll adapt the menu to party food—heavy appetizers, stations instead of a sit-down dinner. More flexible, more fun."
She stared at me like I'd suggested we fly to Mars. "The vendors—"
