Beach Wedding (5 page)

“I think my aunts have some snacks.” I suggest, “They’re
over by the doors. I can go—”

“No, it’s OK, I will!” Pixie leaps up. “Thanks
babe.”

Marcie shoves her way along the row. “Can you freaking believe
this place?” she says loudly. “It’s like central
casting dreamed the whole place up. Hippie yokels for miles. Somebody
already invited me for pie!” She has a horrified expression on
her face.

I laugh. “Old guy in a Hawaiian shirt, right?”

“Yes.” Marcie looks around. “Is he the town creeper
or something?”

“No! That’s just Eddie, he runs the pie shop. Best key
lime on the coast. You have to try a slice.”

Marcie shudders. “Carbs.”

“Your loss!”

I catch sight of a familiar face at the front of the room. “No
way, they weren’t kidding.” It’s Wes, all grown up,
wearing a sheriff’s uniform. He sees me, and does a double
take.

“Ginny!” He comes over and sweeps me in a hug. “What
the hell, girl? We were beginning to think you were in exile.”

“I can’t believe it! Look at you,” I stand back and
shake my head. “They gave you a badge?”

“And a gun.” Wes grins. “Don’t mess with the
law in this town.”

“Wow. Things really change.” I take it in. He’s
still got the football player smile that drove all the girls crazy
back in school, but his brown hair is thinning a little on top, and
the uniform stretches a tightly over his gut.

Wes pats it, satisfied. “That’s what a decade of home
cooking’ll do for you. How long you sticking around? You’ll
have to come over, meet Kate and the kids. She’s home with them
tonight,” he adds. “Camille’s got the flu.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. And I’m not sure how long I’ll
be here. It depends on the permits, I think.”

“Well, I’ll put in a good word for you with Hennessy.”

I blink. “Wait, he’s not still mayor? But he was
practically ancient when we were around.”

Wes chuckles. “He’s hanging on in there. Sometimes we
have to take a break if his hearing aid is acting up, but he’s
still steering the ship. God help us all.”

“Well, thanks,” I say. The room is pretty much full now,
and I can tell they’re ready to get started. “I’ll
see you after? We need to catch up.”

“For sure.” Wes grins and shakes his head. “Little
Ginny.”

“Hey!” I protest.

“It’s real good seeing you. Man, brings some memories
back.” Wes walks to his seat by the front of the stage. I can’t
help but glance around, wondering if Luke still comes to these
meetings. My stomach twists in a nervous knot every time I think
about coming face to face with him again after all this time. It’s
foolish, I know. We’re both adults now, and there’s a
decade of water under the bridge. But I still scan every face in the
room for his familiar dirty blond hair and tanned smile.

Marcie is watching when I return to our seats. “Well?”
she demands. “You think we can swing the permits? There’s
a little extra in the budget, you know. Just tell me the right palms
to grease. Cash in an envelope, you know the drill.”

“Marcie!” I shake my head. “That’s not how
things work here.”

She sighs. “Just great. Next thing you’ll be telling me,
everyone gets a vote.”

“That’s right,” I say, enjoying her reaction. “Two
thirds majority on special town business. So try not to alienate
everyone before we even start.”

“You mean with my winning personality?” Marcie quirks an
eyebrow.

“Exactly. Act like you care about something more than ratings,
and we’ll be fine.”

Marcie gives me a long look, and I wonder if I’ve pushed too
far. Then she gives me a rare smile. “You know, you’re
not so bad.”

“Gee, thanks!”

“No, I meant half the wedding planners we met were all true
love bullshit, but you get how the game is played.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, but before I can
reply, everyone falls silent. Mayor Hennessy slowly climbs the steps
up on stage, with the help of a cane and the old council secretary,
Greta Nyberg. I can’t believe he’s still hanging in
there—he must be in his eighties by now—but I guess
nobody was willing to run against him.

He bangs the gavel and clears his throat. “Welcome, everyone.
It’s good to see you all, coming together again.” He
coughs, and Greta discreetly takes the mike. “Let’s start
with the order of business—”

There’s the sound of a cell phone ringing. Loud. Everyone turns
to look at us.

“Sorry!” Marcie scrambles to turn it off. “There.
All good. Continue!”

I wait until Greta starts talking again, then I give her a look. “Way
to make a good first impression.”

Marcie is checking the screen, her thumbs moving as she types.
“Sorry, business.”

I sit back, enjoying the show. The meetings are just as odd as I
remember. The first order of business is public nudity on Cypress
Lane. Apparently, someone has been watering their lawn naked. Greta
gives us all her stern librarian look over the top of her glasses.

“Just because you’re on private property doesn’t
mean pants are optional.”

I stifle a giggle. Tell that to my aunts.

“Moving on to a big piece of new business…” I feel
Marcie straighten beside me, before Greta finishes. “Nominations
for the Key Lime Queen at the Pelican Festival!”

She sinks back. “Small towns,” she tuts under her breath.

I smile. After years carrying a safety whistle every time I walk down
my block at night, it’s kind of nice to be back in a place
where the biggest worry is whether the bar on the beach is playing
too much Bob Marley.

“What about some Jimmy Buffett?” one of the residents
pleads. “Anything, please!”

“Let’s table a motion to form a committee on expanding
Lenny’s playlist,” Greta decides. “All those in
favor, raise your hand.” The room votes. “The ayes have
it. Lenny, time to mix it up a little.”

Lenny sulks in the front row. “You don’t have the groove,
man.”

I glance over at Pixie and Clyde to see how they’re taking the
change of pace. Instead of being bored, they’re watching
events, rapt, eating their Chex Mix like a night at the movies.

Finally, Greta’s gaze turns to us. “And finally, we have
a rather unusual request from one of our own. Ginny?”

I startle. “Oh, no, Marcie here from the network—”

A voice sounds from the back. “Is that little Ginny Austen?
What’s she doing here?”

“Come on,” Greta beckons. “Why don’t you come
on up and tell everyone what this is all about?”

I look helplessly at Marcie, but she just makes a shooing gesture.
“You know this crowd better than me. Don’t screw it up!”

Crap.

I try to gather my thoughts as I head up onstage. Luckily, I’m
used to turning on the powers of persuasion, whether it’s
convincing an ornery farmer to loan us a herd of heifers for an
engagement shoot, or making the fire marshal believe that a flock of
white doves loose in the air vents doesn’t equal a safety
hazard. If I can manage that, I can definitely pull this off.

“Hi everyone,” I wave, and hear a chorus of ‘heys’
in response. “As you may have heard a time or ten from my
aunts, I’m a wedding planner now. I’ve got a pair of
lovebirds who would just adore to get hitched right here in Pelican
Key Cove.”

I can hear my old accent slip out the longer I speak. I introduce
Pixie and Clyde, and quickly fill everyone in on their TV show.

“They fell in love with this place, and we all know why. This
wedding could put our town on the map as a wonderful and romantic
destination. The world will get to see what we grew up with: the
sunrise on the eastern shore and the sunset on the west. The
loveliness of the town square at dusk when the birds chirp and
crickets greet the evening.” I really get into it, and I see
plenty of friendly faces in the audience nodding along. Yes! This is
going perfectly to plan. “The crews will be filming in town for
just a couple of weeks, but I promise, you’ll hardly notice
them at all.”

“Is that right?” A voice comes loud from the back of the
room. “Because it sounds to me like you want to turn this place
into a zoo.”

I squint, but I can’t make out who’s speaking. “We’ll
keep disruption to a minimum,” I say carefully. “Yes,
there’ll be more people around, what with crews on the show and
guests in town for a wedding. But that could be a real boon for the
local businesses: plenty more customers through the doors.”

There’s a snort. “Trampling over the locals and
expecting everything their own way. You may’ve forgotten, being
gone so long, but this isn’t Hollywood. We like things quiet
around here.”

The agitator finally steps out of the shadows, and I swear, I forget
how to breathe. It’s Luke Porter, all grown up and ten times as
gorgeous as when I saw him last. He stands there, arms folded, his
biceps straining at the casual blue T-shirt that brings out the
cornflower shade of his eyes. He’s got sexy stubble and that
same strong jaw, and even though his expression is steely and
unreadable across the room, I have to grip hold of the edge of the
podium to keep my balance.

“Um.” I blink at him, feeling ten years melt away like
no time at all. I’m right back in high school, that first day
he smiled at me in the hallway and I dropped my folders all over the
floor. The first time he asked me out and I practically floated all
the way home.

The first time he kissed me, and I thought it would be forever.

I scramble to recover the power of speech. “I don’t…
I mean…”

Marcie quickly bobs out of her seat. “I can assure you all,
this will be a classy, discreet production. We have no interest in
painting the town in anything but the most positive light. We’re
here to celebrate Pixie and Clyde, and their perfect love story.
Don’t you want to be a part of that?” she urges the room,
cheerful. “You strike me as a town that takes pride in their
community. You could share that pride, and show the world that
Pelican Key Claw is the home of real love, and the friendliest faces
in all of Florida.”

She’s so enthusiastic nobody notices her slip. The crowd turn
back our way again, with nods and murmurs of agreement, but it’s
all just a blur to me. I’m still focused on Luke, standing with
his arms folded at the back of the room.

Marcie continues working her charm. “Just think, getting to
show off your hometown on national TV! Who gets a chance like that?
You can show your grandkids how you gave this happy couple the most
glorious wedding of their dreams. Let’s pass these permits and
make it happen. All those in favor?”

“Now wait a minute—” Greta tries to stop her, but
Marcie’s got the crowd in the palm of her hand. There’s a
loud chorus of ‘ayes’ and raised hands.

Marcie beams. “Motion passes. The wedding is on!”

Marcie is all smiles as we exit the meeting. She’s texting or
emailing someone back in New York, talking a mile a minute about
production schedules and location budget and extended filming. I’m
still in a daze from Luke’s surprise appearance. I knew running
into him was a possibility, but somehow, he still knocked me out.

Why does he have to look so damn good?

“Who’s that?” Nick/and/or/Neil asks, joining us on
the steps.

“Huh?” I blink.

“The grumpy neighbor.” Nick nods to where Luke is
chatting with Wes outside. “Let me guess, he’s the one
yelling at kids to get off his lawn?”

“I don’t know…” I say faintly. “I
don’t really know him anymore.

Marcie finally looks up from her phone. “We’ve got half
an hour before we leave for the airport. Where do you get a drink in
this town?”

I take the whole gang to Lenny’s, a two-minute walk away. It’s
the same divey beach bar, heavy on the Tiki theme, but they have cold
beer on tap and the best fries in town.

Marcie looks around suspiciously. “Do you have a cocktail
list?” she asks the bartender.

He smirks, and points to the driftwood sign above the bar.

“There’s something for everyone, and that something
is beer.”

“Fine,” Marcie sighs. “Beer it is, all round.”

We grab our drinks and head to a booth out on the beach patio. “To
Pixie and Clyde,” Marcie toasts, “and their full season
here in Pelican Coal Key!”

“Wait, what?” I pause with the beer halfway to my mouth.
“I thought this was just one episode.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Marcie rolls her
eyes. “This is ratings gold. The town meetings, the mayor, the
gazebo
. We’re milking this baby for everything it’s
worth. A month of filming, minimum.”

“But we said it wouldn’t be a zoo,” I protest,
worried.

“Relax, I know what I’m doing. Besides, they don’t
seem to mind getting a little Hollywood glamor in town.” Marcie
nods to the corner. Clyde and Pixie have been mobbed by local fans,
asking for autographs and posing for photos.

I’m not convinced.

“You got us in the door. I can take it from here.” Marcie
sounds confident. “Just worry about the wedding plans, and I’ll
manage the rest.”

I take a sip of beer. I need it. A month in town with Luke
Porter waiting around every corner. I won’t be able to avoid
him, even if I try.

I remember the cool look in his eyes back at the town meeting, and
that unreadable expression. He might not have given his feelings
away, but I’m guessing they’re not good.

I don’t blame him. I high-tailed out of this place the night
before graduation, and never even said goodbye. I never told him the
reasons I was leaving. I can’t be surprised if he’s not
rolling out the welcome wagon, ten years after I broke both our
hearts.

I force myself to put the painful memories aside. Everyone’s
still clamoring to meet the celebrity couple, but I notice that Pixie
has fallen back. She’s looking kind of lost in the midst of all
the activity, so I grab her a drink and head over.