The Best Laid Plans (11 page)

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Authors: Amy Vastine

BOOK: The Best Laid Plans
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There were wedding receptions in almost all the fancy hotels in Chicago every Saturday during the summer. It was like a smorgasbord of parties with open bars and great dance music. Charlie and Becca would get dressed up and head out. If they got kicked out of one, there was always another reception at the next hotel.

Usually, they fit right in. The bigger the reception, the better. The rules were to always be vague about how they knew the happy couple and to spend as much time on the dance floor as possible. They never drank too much and only ate from the dessert table.

The point of a wedding reception was to celebrate, and Charlie was always happy to celebrate any two people who had found the love of their lives. It really didn’t matter if he knew them or not. Emma needed to be reminded why they were doing this. She needed to see that at the reception, no one cared what the bridesmaid dresses looked like or how good the cake tasted. It was about sharing in the joy of the day.

Charlie got dressed and called ahead for a cab. When he got to Emma’s, she was waiting/pacing outside. She’d done as he had asked. Dressed up in a sleeveless red dress belted at the waist, she looked like a modern-day Audrey Hepburn. Her bangs were pinned back with a sparkly hairpin and she nervously scratched at the back of her neck. Thanks to the dress hitting just above the knee, her legs looked as if they went on for miles.

He pushed the physical attraction he felt aside. There was no hope for the two of them. This was simply him being her friend. He was taking her out to get her mind off her troubles.

“Is this okay?” she asked, shifting restlessly from foot to foot and biting her bottom lip.

“It’s perfect, Nightingale. Get in,” he said, holding the door open.

She stepped cautiously off the front stoop and climbed into the back of the cab. “You look pretty perfect yourself.”

Charlie tried not to let the compliment go to his head. She was being polite. It didn’t mean anything. “Thanks.”

“Can you tell me why you made me rush to get dressed up to do research for a wedding that is obviously going to be a flop?”

She was being a bit dramatic. He’d had enough of that for the night. “Does your sister love my friend?”

Emma squinted at him, trying to figure out what he was up to. “Of course she does.”

“Well, he loves her, too. Their wedding could never be a flop.”

Emma sighed and let her head fall back against the seat. “You don’t get it.”

“No, Nightingale.
You
don’t get it, but I’m going to show you. I hope those are dancing shoes.” He nodded at the strappy black heels she had on.

Sitting up straight, she dipped her chin. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to a wedding reception.”

“Whose wedding reception?”

Charlie’s smile was broad and mischievous. “I don’t know. I’ll tell you when we get there.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

T
HIS
WAS
ILLEGAL
,
wasn’t it? Crashing a wedding was all kinds of wrong, but Charlie would not listen to any of her protests. He had the cab drop them off at the Marriott on the Mag Mile. Emma tried refusing to get out, but he threatened to carry her in, and he was obviously crazy enough to do it.

“How do you even know there is a wedding reception here tonight?” she asked as he pulled her inside.

He didn’t try to suppress the eye roll. “It’s June. It’s a Saturday. For the past year, there were probably dozens of people trying to book this place on this night. There’s more than one reception here tonight.”

Charlie walked through the contemporary-style lobby as if he knew exactly where he was going. He didn’t even have to stop at the front desk to ask where the ballrooms were located. They bypassed the grand staircase in the center of the lobby and went straight to the elevators.

“Have you done this before?” she asked, thinking he was much too comfortable for this to be his first time.

“A few times with my sister when she used to live in the city. I haven’t done it in years, but this was our favorite hotel.” He pushed the Up button on the wall. “We’ll go to the fourth floor first, and if we don’t like it there, we’ll head up to the Grand Ballroom on the seventh floor.”

He definitely knew what he was doing. Emma didn’t understand how this was going to make her feel better about the disaster her sister’s wedding had become. This was only making her more stressed. Not to mention that these weddings were probably organized by professional planners. They were certainly going to be flawless. She’d feel like a bigger failure than she already did.

Emma had never failed at anything. It made no sense that everything was going wrong now. She had pushed Charlie away. She had a date planned with a doctor. She was following her life plan to a tee. The wedding arrangements had been solid. She had met her deadlines and stuck to all her timetables. Things were supposed to run smoothly. The universe had no reason to rebel like this.

On the elevator, Charlie went over the rules. “First things first, don’t pretend to be someone else. If a guest asks your name, tell them your real name. Fake names never work. If they ask you how you know the bride and groom, simply say you’re a friend. Don’t be specific. Don’t say you’re a college friend or a high school friend or a work friend. You never know who you’re talking to, and that could blow it. Don’t say whose friend you are. You could be friends with the bride or the groom. They don’t need to know. Smile and move on if someone gets too curious.”

“I have to talk to people?” Emma was going to throw up.

“You might. That’s part of the fun of it. Talking to the other guests. I want to see you laugh and have a good time.”

“I don’t think I can do this.” She pressed the button for the lobby. She was getting out of here.

The doors opened to the fourth floor and the sound of music and people talking greeted them. Charlie took her by the hand and dragged her out of the elevator. “Come on. I want you to see something.”

They passed a group of women headed into the ladies’ room. A couple of them let their eyes linger on Charlie, but none of them seemed to notice that Emma and Charlie didn’t belong. Just outside the ballroom, some wedding guests were exiting a portable photo booth. Charlie led Emma over to it.

“Let’s start with this.”

She pulled on his arm. “No!” she whisper-yelled. “The wedding couple gets copies of all these pictures. They’ll wonder why some strangers were in their booth.”

Charlie laughed. “And they’ll think it’s hilarious. Trust me.”

Afraid to cause a scene, she went along with it. Charlie handed her a masquerade mask and a feather boa. Emma took a deep breath and decided there was nothing to do but to give in. What was the worst thing that could happen? They’d be asked to leave and then she’d get in her own cab if Charlie wouldn’t take her home.

She wrapped the purple boa around her neck and held the mask over her eyes. Charlie put on a fedora and sunglasses and held a plastic mustache on a stick under his lip. He looked ridiculous, but at least they were disguised.

They both made funny faces and smiled for the camera. When they came out, Emma realized it was the first time she had smiled all day. The guy in charge of the booth handed her a strip of photos and placed a second copy in an album.

“You can write something to the bride and groom if you want,” he said, holding out a pen.

Charlie took it and wrote, “Love one another. Today, tomorrow, forever.” He signed it “Charlie and The Nightingale.”


The
Nightingale?”

“Well, I can’t exactly call you mine, now, can I?”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the word
mine
. What if she could be his? She fought against that thought. Things were bad enough as they were. The world could burst into flames if she messed with her plans the way her heart was considering.

“You ready to have some fun?” he asked.

She tucked their copy of the pictures in her purse and took his proffered hand. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They entered the gorgeous ballroom filled with wedding guests. Twenty or so tables were covered in white tablecloths. The chairs were also draped in white, along with big pink ties. In the center of each table was a bouquet of pale pink peonies and hot pink roses covered in a glass dome, surrounded by a circle of a dozen tealights.

Along one wall was a sweets table filled with an assortment of pastries, chocolate-covered strawberries, mousses and fruit tarts. There was also a candy bar, with a variety of candies in different shades of pink. Little Chinese take-out boxes were available for guests to fill and take home with them.

Dinner was clearly over and the dancing had begun. All of the groomsmen were surrounding the bride as she made everyone laugh by dancing the disco. Family and friends were clapping and swaying to the music.

Charlie headed straight for the sweets. He held up a chocolate-dipped strawberry and pressed it to Emma’s lips. Her breathing hitched. It was such an intimate gesture, but she opened her mouth and bit into the delectable confection, anyway. As he pulled it away, strawberry juice dripped down her lip and he swiped it with his thumb.

“So good, right?” He leaned closer so she could hear him over the music.

Too good.
Her body temperature rose by a thousand degrees. She nodded and he smiled before grabbing up some more goodies, all of which he tossed into his own mouth.

When they’d both had their fill, he pulled her over to the dance floor. “May I have this dance?”

The music had slowed and couples were wrapping their arms around one another. Emma accepted and put one hand on his shoulder and the other hand in his. Charlie’s other hand slipped around her waist and rested at the small of her back. She tried to slow down her heartbeat and picture herself standing on an icy tundra so he wouldn’t be able to tell how his touch set her aflame.

Charlie was an excellent dancer. He knew how to lead better than she knew how to follow. He was patient and understanding when she stepped on his toes. She found herself leaning closer and closer until her head was nearly resting on his shoulder.

Emma closed her eyes and reminded herself not to get carried away. The song ended and a wildly popular pop song came on that got everyone on the dance floor. Emma did two fast dances with Charlie before she needed to take a break and drink some water. He offered to get it while she stole a seat at an empty table on the edge of the dance floor.

She smiled at the ring bearer and flower girl dancing their little hearts out. They appeared to be having the time of their lives. Emma remembered being a kid and loving weddings. Simon and Aidan would hopefully have fun at their parents’ reception. Maybe they needed to find someone who could DJ the party instead of a fancy string quartet. Suddenly, the cancellation seemed more like a gift than a problem.

Charlie returned with some ice water but didn’t sit down. He went back on the dance floor and got his groove on with whomever was near. The children thought he was great, and it didn’t take long before all the little kids at the party were begging him to pick them up and twirl them around.

There was no doubt he was going to make an awesome dad someday. That little tingle in Emma’s stomach was back, and she willed it away. Her kids would have a wonderful father, too. Scott was probably excellent with kids. She just hadn’t seen him interact with enough to know.

He’ll never be as good as Charlie.
She wanted to kick herself the second the thought crossed her mind, but it was true. Charlie reminded her so much of her own father, who used to let his three daughters give him makeovers and never refused an invitation to a tea party.

The music slowed and she thought he was going to ask her to dance again. She planned to tell him it was time to go. She’d seen enough. Weddings were fun. People had a great time when everything went off without a hitch. What he failed to realize was that Kendall and Max’s wedding had a lot of hitches.

Charlie didn’t come over to her, though. He approached an elderly woman who was dressed to kill in a blue dress with sequins that sparkled on the skirt. The woman looked overjoyed at his request for a dance and took his hand so he could help her up.

The smile on her face was priceless as he led her to the dance floor and then gathered her up in his arms. They waltzed as if they were old-fashioned movie stars, with beautiful grace and fluidity. Emma was jealous of the woman’s dance skills.

“Your boyfriend is quite the dancer.” A woman sat down next to Emma with a full glass of wine in her hand.

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends.”

She seemed surprised and leaned in. “I was going to warn you that my mother might steal him away if you aren’t careful.” Nodding at Charlie and the older woman, Emma’s new friend smiled. “She hasn’t had this much fun in years.”

Emma watched the two of them dance. She thought it was sweet that Charlie could make someone’s night with such a simple act of kindness. At the same time, the green-eyed monster reared its head.
He makes everyone feel special.

Charlie whispered in the old woman’s ear and they laughed about something that belonged only to them, adding to Emma’s envy. Could she really be jealous of someone old enough to be her grandmother?

The song ended and the woman next to Emma stood back up. Her mother was busy giving Charlie a kiss on the cheek. “I better go back to my table so I can hear all about it from my mother. My dad died three years ago. They used to dance like that. What your friend just did was give her a gift I wish I could repay. Tell him thank-you for that.”

“Sure.”

Charlie was an amazing person who wasn’t even trying to be amazing. His kindness and generous spirit made him more desirable by the second. Emma didn’t like these feelings. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything romantic for Charlie, but he was making it so hard.

He escorted his dance partner to her table before rejoining Emma. He sat down and swallowed down an entire cup of water in one big gulp.

“Your dance partner’s daughter said to thank you for getting her mom out there. You made her night.”

“No one needs to thank me. Marjorie is a great dancer. Did you see her?” His sincerity and modesty were so attractive and annoying at the same time. “Plus, I got all the good gossip. She said the little ring bearer over there took off during the ceremony and had the real rings with him. They had to stop the wedding while his parents chased after him. He ended up crawling under the choir risers and they had to send the kid’s brother in to get him out. It was quite a spectacle.”

Emma giggled. She had heard of a runaway bride before, but a runaway ring bearer was new. “That is too funny.”

“See, every wedding has some hiccups. But you’d never know it now, would you?”

No, everyone was having a blast, especially the bride and groom. They were dancing together in the center of all their friends and family, both of them wearing expressions of pure joy. They had exchanged vows and—luckily—rings, and in the end, that was all that mattered. They were husband and wife, and no one, not even a troublesome ring bearer, could change that.

Emma finally got it. She hadn’t even noticed what the bridesmaids were wearing. She hadn’t tasted the cake. The best parts of this wedding were watching everyone have fun together and listening to their laughter. She loved dancing with Charlie and watching him dance with the young and old. Weddings were about the couple getting married and those they loved being there to celebrate.

“Do you need another drink?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I need to dance.”

Standing up, she offered him her hand this time. He stared up at her curiously before a victorious smile spread across his face. “Whatever you want, Nightingale.”

Dance they did. They danced to “YMCA” and “Cha Cha Slide.” Charlie showed off during Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies” while Emma was bent over in hysterics. They jumped up and down to “Shout” and by the time the last song was announced, they were sweaty, tired messes. It was a slow one, and Emma almost told Charlie they should go. One more slow dance with him and she could lose all her self-control.

She didn’t tell him no, though. When he pulled her close, she pressed up against him and let him lead her in a slow, small circle.

“I had a really fun time with you tonight,” he said into her ear. His lips almost touched her lobe and it sent shock waves through her whole body.

“Me, too,” she replied. This was actually the best night she had had in a very long time.

“You’re a really good dance partner.”

Emma pulled back to see his face, doubtful he was being sincere. “Better than Marjorie?”

Charlie pursed his lips as he thought about it. “I don’t know, Marjorie did give me a kiss at the end of our dance. That might give her a slight edge.”

The thought of kissing Charlie made Emma weak in the knees. The challenge was too much to resist, plans or no plans. Emma’s feet stopped moving and she leaned forward, closing her eyes as their lips touched. His were so soft and he was so gentle. Emma wanted to melt into him. She almost thought she could, given the way her body turned to Jell-O in his arms.

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