Then she clicked off and got back to work.
When she checked her e-mail again at the end of the day, she had a few random winks, and Ron had replied. She had to admit it was nice to make “get to know you” conversation with a man, even if it was next door to anonymous.
He ended by inviting her for coffee. I always do coffee as a first date, he explained, obviously catering to her “virgin” status. There’s no pressure. It’s only an hour of our time and if we don’t want to continue that’s fine. And if we do, then we go from there. What do you think?
What did she think?
She had no idea, so she decided to lay the entire situation before Chelsea.
“Online dating?” her friend said when she’d walked over to her place to ask for advice. “Wow. I’ve never tried it, but some of my girlfriends met boyfriends and husbands that way.” She shrugged. “And a few use the site to find booty calls.”
“Booty calls? Seriously?”
“Hey, different strokes.”
Karen bit deeply into a lemon dream bar before saying, “Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m doing. I think I’m scared.”
“Honey, you book acrobats for weddings, you drag grooms to weddings on time, solve blended family conflicts that would baffle the entire Oprah/Dr. Phil team. I once saw you personally climb a tree to fix twinkle lights. While wearing four-inch heels. I think you can handle a cup of coffee with a CPA.”
“I guess you’re right.” She put a hand to her chest where her heart was beating rapidly.
Chelsea looked at her with concern. “You seem way more bent out of shape than seems appropriate for a coffee date. What’s going on?”
“Oh, Chelsea, it’s all such a mess,” she wailed and promptly shoved the last of the lemon dream into her mouth. Once she’d taken what comfort she could from the food, she told her friend everything, from her first meeting Dexter at a party, to their wedding, the marriage, the betrayal, to him coming back into her life. She ended with the kiss.
“Scumbag!” was Chelsea’s succinct response to the story. For which Karen was enormously grateful. “And now he thinks he can waltz into your business and try to get back in your pants? I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Getting out and dating new men is a fantastic idea. Really. Get your mind off your ex.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“I am right. And you know what else you need?”
She thought of some of the other well-meaning advice Dee had dispensed from time to time. “Please don’t say sex toys.”
Chelsea grinned at her. “I am assuming that you have a good selection, as every woman should. But no, I was referring to a girls’ night out.”
“Oh, I would love that.” A night off from worries and stress with some of her female friends would be sooo good.
“Okay.” And as she saw Karen’s mouth open Chelsea stopped her, saying, “And, Ms. Planner Extraordinaire, this is one that I’ll be planning. You come and have a good time. That’s all. Got it?”
Impulsively, she hugged her. “Got it. Thanks.”
“WE’RE SEAHORSES,” the voice on the phone explained.
She really didn’t charge enough for this job. “Seahorses? Maybe you need an aquarium, not a wedding planner,” Karen said as gently as she could.
The young woman’s laugh was sudden and loud in her ear. “No, I mean me and Steve, the guy I’m marrying, we belong to the Seahorses Scuba Diving club.”
“Oh, okay, I get you.”
“You must have thought I was nuts,” the woman said, with another boisterous laugh.
Karen joined in, hahaha, without admitting she’d assumed the woman was certifiable. Or that she wouldn’t be the first crazy person who’d hoped If You Can Dream It was a company designed to make any hallucination come true.
“Before I waste both of our time in a meeting, I want to ask you if you could arrange an undersea wedding.”
“An undersea wedding, like The Little Mermaid?”
“I guess, sort of. See, we dive the wrecks off the Jersey shore and we were thinking it would be so cool to get married underwater.”
“Oh, wouldn’t it.” Karen rubbed her temple. Surely you couldn’t get a headache this fast. “Hard to cut the cake, though.”
More laughter greeted her. “I can see we’re going to get along fine. No, what I’m thinking is if we could rent a glass-bottomed boat for the guests and then me and Steve could get married underneath. We wouldn’t have thought of it, but we met a JP who also dives. He could perform the ceremony from the boat, and we’d be wired for sound. Instead of saying, ‘I do,’ we’d give the thumbs up sign. Isn’t that totally cool?”
“Oh, totally.”
“We want to get married next August. We need some ideas. We really want our wedding to stand out as something different.”
No problem there.
“So, will you do it?”
“Arrange a wedding on a glass-bottomed boat so two scuba divers can give a thumbs-up?” She shook her head. “Sure, why not?”
“Great, when can we come in to see you?”
She made an appointment for the scuba sweethearts, and then almost broke down and wept when her next appointment informed her that she wanted a completely traditional wedding. Church, flowers, white gown, bridesmaids, hotel reception, everything simple and staid and normal. How refreshing.
As she was finishing up the proposal, Sophie Vanderhooven called sounding excited. “I heard Melissa Stanhope got the most divine cake for her wedding this Saturday.”
“Yes, it’s lovely. Laurel, our cake maker has a real gift.”
“But Cinderella’s coach? That is such an amazing idea.” She now recalled that it was the Stanhopes who had recommended her services to the Vanderhoovens.
“Even better, the cake is made with pumpkin.”
“I know! She told me. Can I have something like that for my wedding?”
“Of course you can.” Did this woman not have any original ideas of her own? “Not the same cake, of course, because Laurel creates a unique design for every event, but you can give her guidelines.”
A sigh wafted over the phone. “Mother wants a traditional tiered cake complete with little plastic bride and groom on the top, but I want something more romantic, more me.”
“I’m sure we can find something that will make you and your mother both happy,” she said diplomatically.
“I hope so. Anyhow, I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Saturday?”
“At Melissa’s wedding.”
“Oh, of course. Though I’m not a guest. If I do my job right, you shouldn’t even notice me.”
Sophie laughed in her elegant way. “No one could miss you.”
Before she could ask what that was supposed to mean, in a polite way, the woman was gone.
Puzzled, she got up and walked to the front reception area. “Dee?”
Her assistant glanced up from matching the place cards to the Stanhopes’ master guest list. “Mmm-hmm?”
“Do