Page 1 of Rules of Engagement
Chapter 1
Wedding planner Eliza Bellefonte smiled at the happy couple and watched as they made their way onto the dance floor inside the tent dominating the rear of the seaside hotel.
Beneath the crisp white canvas, three hundred natural bamboo chairs with pearly-white cushions matched white-draped tables glittering like sea glass beneath the ten thousand artfully draped lights overhead.
Sand-colored runners ran the length of the long tables, and fairy lights twinkled with perfect randomness amid white and teal ribbon and greenery. Intertwined with that was a mix of white hydrangeas and jasmine, the abundance of blooms dotted with crystals. Crystal and candles finished the table arrangements, the varying heights of the pillars lending even more elegance to the overall look.
The very young, very spoiled bride had insisted on beige and white for the foundation to make it more "beachy" even though she'd also demanded the tent have a floor to keep all that awful sand contained. Eliza remembered hearing that request—the hundredth or so at that point—and biting her inner lip to keep the smile pinned to her face.
Why bother with a beach wedding if sand wasn't a welcome guest?
But the bride was always right, even if she was neurotic about sand.
On the beach.
Be thankful, she mused, blinking her tired eyes. Six months ago she'd wondered if she'd have to close what was left of her business and file for bankruptcy due to the damage done when her partner—and boyfriend—had not only ended their relationship but taken off with half of the business as well as their administrative assistant. The two had secretly started their own company on the slybeforeEliza realized what was happening and managed to charm clients into choosing them, then proceeded to rub Eliza's nose in the mud with every client they'd lured away.
Eliza forced her thoughts from the past and back on the couple of the day, focusing on the cashier's check currently processing its way into her account via her bank's phone app. One must never be too cautious, and this bridezilla had made Eliza a little too nervous with some of her last-minute demands. The changes always came with a comment about not paying if her wedding wasn't "just right."
The one ace up Eliza's sleeve was that the bride and Eliza's former assistant had bad blood between them, also over an old boyfriend, so the bride couldn't push too far or else she would risk having to hire her nemesis.
Still, she hadn't made Eliza's life any easier, because she'd known Eliza needed the business. And while Eliza had contracts in place to cover her own interests, the last thing she needed was negative social media.
Or another attorney fee.
There had been enough of both during her breakup with James and the business breakdown. So much so she'd had to get an attorney involved to protect herself. Now her newly named Dream Weddings was once again hers and hers alone.
But until she got her business back on its feet, it paid to be overly cautious—and overly accommodating. Because in the end, none of it mattered so long as she got paid.
"Gorgeous," Marsali Jones said. "As always."
Eliza turned to find her best friend of the last fourteen years standing behind her, another woman at Marsali's side. "Hey," she said with a smile after muting the mic she wore, which connected her to several of the catering staff. Eliza leaned into Marsali's quick hug and relished the embrace. "It's so good to see you. I've missed you."
"Right back at you," Marsali said, squeezing Eliza.
"I didn't see your name on the list."
Given that Marsali was a professional matchmaker and friends with Hollywood A-lister Oliver Beck, it wasn't unusual for Marsali to appear at functions hosting members of Wilmywood's movie production crowds. Bridezilla's father was part of Wilmington's movie-making group but—
"I'm Amelia's plus one," Marsali said, introducing Eliza to Amelia Porter, a set designer.
Amelia had sandy-brown hair pulled back in a simple twist, and wore a sleeveless rose-gold gown.
"When she said you guys were playing phone tag and her fiancé couldn't make it, I volunteered to come and convince you to pull off a mini-miracle for them," Marsali said, sliding Eliza a glance.
Oh, yeah.That'swhy Amelia's name had sounded familiar. "Ah, now I remember," Eliza said with a nod. "I'm sorry for the delay. As you can see, I've been a little busy, but I'd planned to try again first thing Monday." Eliza waved a hand at the interior and crowd. "When's the date?"
Amelia exchanged a glance with Marsali before making eye contact with Eliza.
"Two weeks," the woman said, wincing appropriately. "Iknow. It's asking a lot because it's a huge rush, but if I want a wedding instead of just a date at the courthouse, it's the only way. I'm… kind of on a time schedule and we don't want to take a year to plan something. But we want small and intimate, but special," she added, "since it's my first and only."
Eliza ignored thefirst and onlycomment and focused on the schedule. Two weeks? Eliza glanced at Marsali, noting her curly-headed friend had embraced her curls for the night. Marsali’s hair was a thing of beauty but tended to have a life of its own some days.Kind of like the craziness of her business, she mused.
"You and I both know you can totally pull it off.And," Marsali added, "they'll happily pay you whatever it takes to make it happen in that time frame."
Marsali knew all of Eliza's secrets, including the time Bobby Jones had felt her up on the school bus, but more importantly, Marsali knew of her financial struggle to stay afloat since the big showdown with James.
"After seeing how amazing this is, I really want you to plan it, Eliza," Amelia said, her soft green eyes pleading. "Please. Say yes. I want a beautiful wedding, but there's no way I can do it all on my own."
