An hour later, after we’ve chatted and eaten a light dinner, Livia drags out her iPad, pulling up a spreadsheet she’s created. We’re different in so many ways, but the one thing Livia and I always did have in common was the obsessive need to be organized.
“Okay, Kam, were you able to find a venue yet?” Livia asks, feverishly typing on her little keyboard. With such short notice, that was one of the things bound to be difficult. That, and the fact that it’s the holidays in the city, and every hotel ballroom will no doubt already be reserved with holiday parties and other events.
“Jesus, Livia. You owe me big time for this. I must have called a hundred hotels, but you’re in luck. Yes, just on the way over here I heard from the Palmer House. They have one of their smaller ballrooms available, but the wedding rooms are booked and we’ll have to work around the chapel’s availability because there is another wedding that day. I think if you shift the time of the ceremony from five to six o’clock, we could make everything work. And they have a wedding coordinator who can help you manage a lot of the details, like catering, flowers, cake and such.”
“Well, I’m going to have to be as flexible as a gymnast to pull this off.”
“Good, I’m glad you said that, because I gave her my credit card to hold it. She said she had another inquiry just hours ago.”
A look of relief crosses Livia’s face. “Thanks, Kam.”
“Welcome, babe.”
Addy speaks up. “We have appointments on Saturday at two different bridal stores, Livia. You’ll need to buy something off the rack, but the two shops I booked have quite a bit of inventory to choose from, so hopefully you’ll walk away on Saturday with your wedding dress!” Addy squeals, causing the few other patrons in the restaurant to look our way.
“Thanks Addy. I’m sure it will need some alternations with my rapidly growing belly, though. And Lysee,” she says, looking at me, “I’m thinking something simple for you in navy. Your pick. Whatever you like. My treat.”
“Sounds good,” I reply, feeling bad for taking the charity, but grateful I won’t have to find the money for a dress I can’t afford.
Livia bites her lip, running her eyes over the spreadsheet. “Invitations?” She looks at me. Whoops, that was my task and I haven’t even started.
“Sorry, with trying to get everything ready to move here on such short notice, I haven’t had time to start. But I’ll get try to something done by the end of the week.” I’m not sure why I’m tasked with invitations. I don’t have a creative bone in my body and the thought of having to come up with something worthy of Livia’s wedding is freaking me the hell out.
“I would love to do that,” Addy pipes up. “I mean, if that’s okay, Alyse. I really love that stuff. Maybe we could swap and you could take the task of finding a photographer instead. Plus, you’re good at negotiating. I’m good at design. There are only a couple that are still available that day so all you need to do is maybe meet with a each one and pick the best.”
“Sure,” I reply, relieved. “That sounds great. You okay with that Libs?”
“Of course. We have the same tastes. I trust you.”
“Thanks.” Those simple words slice me like a hot knife through butter. At least she trusts me with something.
We spend another hour going through wedding minutia. By the time we’re finished and I head back up to my apartment, I’m bone tired. I spent long hours Friday and Saturday trying to get everything in the office and at home pulled together for my absence. I told Heather I’d be back once every two weeks or so for a day or two, though. I just can’t disappear when I have a business to run and I can’t run it all remotely. I was thrilled that we did land that other new client, but that meant I had to work up a contract, timeline, and details for that audit before handing it over to Tabitha.
I need a drink and a bath, in that exact order.
______________
When I open the front door, I’m met with the fragrance of lavender from the candle I left burning on the counter. Other than the small light that I left on over the stovetop, that’s the only light that spills through the dark room.
I walk over to the counter and drop my purse and keys down, spotting the card Asher personally wrote for me, tacked to the champagne. Picking it up, I read his innuendo-filled words and once again grow wet. That seems to be my perpetual state of late.
My sweet Alyse,
Welcome to Chicago. I very much look
forward to collecting on my bet. Soon.
Yours,
– Asher