* * *
“You must be Emma. It’s so wonderful to meet you. You look just like your pictures in the magazines.”
Emma stood at the door of Jackson’s apartment and suddenly wished very much that she didn’t have to do this. But, she didn’t really have much of a choice. This had to happen.
“Yes, I’m Emma,” she said, forcing herself to smile as she opened the door a little wider. “Please come in. Your name is Becca, right?”
“That’s me, Becca the wedding planner,” the woman chirped. Becca wasn’t much older than Emma, but was several inches shorter. She had beautiful blonde hair in beautiful wavy curls down her back. The woman looked like she just stepped out of a beauty salon.
She wore a light pink dress that looked like 1950’s vintage. Her makeup was perfect. Her hair was perfect.
Even though Emma wore nice slacks, a button-up dark blue silk shirt, and light makeup, she felt incredibly unprepared. Becca just looked so put
together.
“Now, I have some samples of other weddings so that I can get your opinion on what you want,” Becca said, walking through the front door. She pulled two suitcases behind her in matching pink.
“Um, well, Jackson and I were thinking something elegant. I don’t want over the top lavish or ornate, but something beautiful,” Emma told her. “Here, we can sit at the table here. Would you like some coffee?”
“Oh no, thank you.” Becca shook her head. “And, if you want white teeth for the wedding, you shouldn’t have coffee either. Or tea. Stick with water. It’ll help your figure in your dress, too.”
“Oh.” Emma wasn’t sure what to say to that. She just motioned to the table.
Becca quickly set up shop. She had binders full of pictures and fabric that she laid out systematically on the table.
“You said elegant, correct?” Becca asked, pulling out a specific binder from one of the suitcases. “Take a look in here and tell me what you think.”
Emma took the big binder and carefully opened it, unsure of what was going to be inside.
“The first picture is the reception hall of another wedding I did in New York last year,” Becca explained. “Everything was seashell cream with bluebird navy accents with a theme of diamonds, because diamonds are forever. Absolutely lovely.”
The picture was of a beautiful room decorated into something out of a movie. White and blue were everywhere, along with more glittery gemstones than Emma could count. Everything in the room glittered.
“Wow. Where did you get all the sparkle?” Emma asked, turning to the next page. It was of a different angle, but still the sparkle remained. “Are they sequins?”
“Those are Swarovski crystals, dear,” Becca replied. “Straight from Austria, just for this wedding.”
Emma turned the page and found the price tag. She nearly threw up. The crystals were stunning, but not for that price. She could buy several houses for what they paid to make their reception sparkle for just a few hours.
“I think that’s a bit much for me,” Emma said, setting the binder down. Even though she was marrying a billionaire, she couldn’t justify that price.
“Is anyone coming to help you with this?” Becca asked glancing at the door. “Usually there’s a mother or a mother in law.”
“My mother died a long time ago,” Emma replied, ignoring the ache in her chest. “So did Jackson’s.”
“I see. Is anyone going to help you with these decisions?” Becca asked.
“My matron of honor’s little boy has a doctor appointment, but she’ll be here once they’re done.” Emma shrugged. “I was planning on doing most of it myself. I’m not working right now, so I have the time.”
Becca looked her over for a moment and then took the binder away. “Let’s start from the beginning then. What is your perfect wedding?”
“My perfect wedding? I haven’t really thought about it.” Emma knew that wasn’t true. Her perfect wedding was a private ceremony with only her husband to be, his best man, her maid of honor, and a photographer in a magical spot she’d found in the woods when she was eight. But there was no way that would be appropriate for a billionaire’s wedding, especially not one that needed to grab the public’s attention.
“Every girl has thought of something,” Becca pressed. “Perhaps a castle? A princess like setting?”
Emma shrugged. “Sure. That’ll work.”
“Emma, I don’t want what will work. I want to know what you’re dreaming of,” Becca said, taking Emma’s hands in hers. “This is supposed to be your big day. It should be what you want it to be. Surely you thought of what you would look like walking down the aisle with your father in a beautiful dress?”