Valerie wasn’t sure if, like many of Alexis’s comments, this was genuine advice, a veiled insult, or a murky combination of the two, but it was better for their working relationship to assume the first. They’d known each other for more than a decade through their mutual friend group, and when Alexis had lost her job as an office manager, everyone assumed the assistant role Valerie had just posted would be hers. Backed into a corner since she didn’t want to rock the boat or feel responsible for Alexis not being able to pay her rent, Valerie had agreed.
Alexis herself had been more than confident she could handle the work. “I did my wedding all by myself, and the planner was only there for emergencies or when I was too busy,” she’d said. “Memorials can’t be harder than that.”
Two months later, Valerie was kicking herself for saying yes. She watched Alexis lift a pile of tablecloths off a chair and drop them to the floor so she could sit and decided it was time for a talk. Not an official reprimand between a boss and employee, which would make Alexis more defensive than usual, but a chat between friends aboutexpectations. That was reasonable. She’d do it tomorrow.
“Did you get your hair done?” Alexis asked. “It’s too red.”
It was, and when the stylist had asked, Valerie had lied and said she loved it before forking over a hundred bucks, plus tip. However, she had zero desire to go into this with Alexis and murmured something noncommittal.
“By the way, Margaret Roberts called yesterday,” continued Alexis. “Something about the time needing to change.”
The celebration for Margaret’s husband was next week, so this was important information. “What exactly?”
“I told you. Something about the time.” Alexis yawned and checked her phone.
Valerie set a reminder to call Margaret later. “Did you go by the office and get the boxes I stacked by the door?”
Alexis gazed up at the latticed smoked glass of the high ceiling. “I can get them now.”
“You were supposed to bring them with you so we can set up before Nico Hever arrives.” Nico was Roger Badgerton’s executive assistant and had been her primary contact. He was also curiously intriguing for a guy she’d had limited interactions with, and entirely by phone, thanks to a work trip that had taken Nico and Roger out of town. Despite focusing solely on Malcolm’s memorial, their initial conversations had been enough for her imagination, always in overdrive, to create a vision of him in her mind.
She had decided Nico Hever would be pale, with short dark hair, a long nose, and a prominent widow’s peak—an expectation she suspected was influenced by his name and a picture she once saw of Niccolo Machiavelli. This wasn’t fair to poor Nico, who had not once discussed the cunning ruthlessness needed to acquire and keep a city-state during their conversations about dates, venues, and guest lists. She’d also decided his shirt would be ironed and tucked in, because noone who took a sincere interest in napkin thread counts would neglect his own creases.
He would not only possess his own lint brush, but also use it regularly.
Some of these expectations had been laid to rest when Nico agreed to a video call to view the event space before booking. On the screen had been an attractive white guy with dark hair. Then he met her gaze and Valerie had been momentarily and unusually stunned into silence. It took a moment for her to place why he was familiar. Nico resembled a World War II squadron leader portrait she’d recently spotted in a museum display, with the same disciplined expression, strong bone structure, and spare features. His slate-gray eyes gave him a brooding expression, as if he was full of secrets he had no problem keeping.
She was looking forward to seeing him in person today, and not only because of those eyes. His serious attitude and clear competence were instant draws, making him not only physically appealing but also good to work with. It was a rare combination.
“Right, the tight-ass.” Alexis didn’t look up from her phone. “Tell him we have it under control. That’s what I would say if this was my business.”
But Ad Astra was not Alexis’s business. Nor would Valerie say anything of the sort to Nico, since she had the impression he was under a lot of stress. He’d subtly let Valerie know that Malcolm Badgerton had been almost fanatically concerned with his reputation and status and reminded her this was the family’s final farewell. Valerie understood and was ready for the challenge. She’d considered every angle. There were spreadsheets and checklists out the wazoo. She had paper trails and approvals and had accounted for every what-if she could think of.
The Malcolm Badgerton Celebration of Life was going to be perfect.
As she was thinking of a diplomatic way to ask Alexis to please notinsult their bread and butter, the phone rang. It was her mother, and since her mother rarely called, she picked up immediately.
“Oh, Val, I have the most amazing news,” her mother said. “Erica is getting married!”
Figures it would be about her stepsister. Valerie’s free hand shook with the sudden force of the resentment she thought she’d put to rest years ago, and she clenched her fist to make it stop.
“That’s wonderful!” She made sure to smile as she spoke—Ruth’s trick to radiate authenticity during difficult calls. After all, love was good and weddings were great. Her older stepsister was nice enough, and almost as perfect as Valerie’s mother believed.
“It’s why I’m calling. She needs a wedding planner.”
Because why else would Mom call? Certainly not to wish Valerie luck on today’s career-defining event, which she’d probably forgotten about. The resentment swelled sluggishly, too weary to do more, and she tamped it down with her sneakered foot.
“Oh?” Ruth had made Valerie swear on a pile of vintage bridal magazines never to do an event for family, but she knew herself. If her mother wanted help, she would plan a thousand weddings. She opened her mouth to offer, but her mother kept speaking.
“Can you recommend someone?”
Valerie’s gut lurched, although it was ridiculous to be hurt that she wasn’t asked to do something she didn’t want to do in the first place. “I have a big event starting in a few hours, but I can get her some names later this week.”
Her mother sighed. “Val, you know your sister likes to plan ahead. Surely you can spare ten minutes from Aurora and get it to us today.”
“Ad Astra.” Her mother always got it wrong, and Erica wasn’t her sister. Mom got that wrong too.
“How long has it been since you’ve been doing that?”