CHAPTER ONE
"I was thinking we could have bouquets of heart-shaped cookies on each table, and maybe some of those little Valentine's candies … you know, the ones with the messages?" Becca nodded, and Katie continued. "It'd be so cute if we had little bowls of those at each seat, right?"
Becca's fake smile was painful to maintain. To be honest , it sounded horrible, but Katie was the client, and if she wanted teddy bears dressed in dominatrix leather for her wedding, Becca would make it happen. If she didn't make her car payment by the end of the month, she was going to have to start parking behind the trees in the vacant lot next to her apartment complex to keep the wolf off the door .
"Jordan said not to go overboard on the Valentine's theme, but I can't help it . I t's going to be so cute. Don't you think?"
Katie was so unsure of herself it embarrassed Becca. She'd catered weddings for timid brides before, but Katie was truly a challenge. Part of her wondered how she could have possibly made the decision to get married when she was clearly incapable of choosing a napkin ring. But it wasn't her job to question Katie's motives . H er job was to make crudités , and choose place settings, and find perfectly marinated prime rib.
“ So, has she blown through the budget already?” Both women turned to see Katie’s fiancé, Jordan Caufield, emerge from the front hallway of the apartment.
Jordan was older than Katie, around thirty, and richer than a teenage Arab. He seemed disinterested in the particulars of the wedding, although he became quite animated when discussing the wedding party. He had four old fraternity buddies serving as groomsmen who were coming in for the weekend to be fitted for their tuxes. The happy couple had asked Becca to come to the fitting because Katie wanted the table skirts to match the men's cummerbunds. Becca didn't know which depressed her more , t he thought of spending the afternoon with four rich, snobby, ex-frat boys whose only goal for the weekend was to drink their weight in beer, or the thought of matching fuchsia pink cummerbunds to the elegant table dressings she planned for the reception.
Katie let out a nervous chuckle. “Jordan, honestly. We were just discussing table decorations. It's all included in the price quote. Right, Becca?” She looked at Becca with anxious eyes.
“ Absolutely,” Becca replied, eying Jordan with a steady gaze. She hated the way he used money to intimidate Katie. Becca knew that Katie came from somewhat humble beginnings, and it was obvious that Jordan's wealth daunted her.
“ Well, that's good . I don't want to start my marriage without a pot to piss in,” Jordan said flatly .
Becca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The man had enough money to furnish his house with solid gold piss pots. But she only smiled and stood to leave.
“I've got some errands to run, but I'll meet you guys at the men’s store at four . ” She was glad to be free of the tension that always simmered when Jordan was around. Poor Katie, Becca thought, then caught herself. None of her business. It was a good-paying gig. And God knew she needed the money.
One would think that being a wedding caterer in Las Vegas, Nevada would be a profitable endeavor, but one would be wrong. T he competition was fierce . Sin City was, after all, the wedding capital of the world. But even more problematic was the fact that most people who got married in Las Vegas were not looking for a formal, catered affair. A quick ceremony performed by an Elvis impersonator, followed by a drunken night in a casino, or a Cirque Du Soleil show, was more often the norm. But Becca loved her job, and if it meant cutting corners and living frugally, she was willing to make the sacrifice.
By the time she got back to her apartment it was almost noon and she mentally ticked off her to-do list as she pulled a Diet Coke from the fridge.
"I was thinking we could have bouquets of heart-shaped cookies on each table, and maybe some of those little Valentine's candies … you know, the ones with the messages?" Becca nodded, and Katie continued. "It'd be so cute if we had little bowls of those at each seat, right?"
Becca's fake smile was painful to maintain. To be honest , it sounded horrible, but Katie was the client, and if she wanted teddy bears dressed in dominatrix leather for her wedding, Becca would make it happen. If she didn't make her car payment by the end of the month, she was going to have to start parking behind the trees in the vacant lot next to her apartment complex to keep the wolf off the door .
"Jordan said not to go overboard on the Valentine's theme, but I can't help it . I t's going to be so cute. Don't you think?"
Katie was so unsure of herself it embarrassed Becca. She'd catered weddings for timid brides before, but Katie was truly a challenge. Part of her wondered how she could have possibly made the decision to get married when she was clearly incapable of choosing a napkin ring. But it wasn't her job to question Katie's motives . H er job was to make crudités , and choose place settings, and find perfectly marinated prime rib.
“ So, has she blown through the budget already?” Both women turned to see Katie’s fiancé, Jordan Caufield, emerge from the front hallway of the apartment.
Jordan was older than Katie, around thirty, and richer than a teenage Arab. He seemed disinterested in the particulars of the wedding, although he became quite animated when discussing the wedding party. He had four old fraternity buddies serving as groomsmen who were coming in for the weekend to be fitted for their tuxes. The happy couple had asked Becca to come to the fitting because Katie wanted the table skirts to match the men's cummerbunds. Becca didn't know which depressed her more , t he thought of spending the afternoon with four rich, snobby, ex-frat boys whose only goal for the weekend was to drink their weight in beer, or the thought of matching fuchsia pink cummerbunds to the elegant table dressings she planned for the reception.
Katie let out a nervous chuckle. “Jordan, honestly. We were just discussing table decorations. It's all included in the price quote. Right, Becca?” She looked at Becca with anxious eyes.
“ Absolutely,” Becca replied, eying Jordan with a steady gaze. She hated the way he used money to intimidate Katie. Becca knew that Katie came from somewhat humble beginnings, and it was obvious that Jordan's wealth daunted her.
“ Well, that's good . I don't want to start my marriage without a pot to piss in,” Jordan said flatly .
Becca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The man had enough money to furnish his house with solid gold piss pots. But she only smiled and stood to leave.
“I've got some errands to run, but I'll meet you guys at the men’s store at four . ” She was glad to be free of the tension that always simmered when Jordan was around. Poor Katie, Becca thought, then caught herself. None of her business. It was a good-paying gig. And God knew she needed the money.
One would think that being a wedding caterer in Las Vegas, Nevada would be a profitable endeavor, but one would be wrong. T he competition was fierce . Sin City was, after all, the wedding capital of the world. But even more problematic was the fact that most people who got married in Las Vegas were not looking for a formal, catered affair. A quick ceremony performed by an Elvis impersonator, followed by a drunken night in a casino, or a Cirque Du Soleil show, was more often the norm. But Becca loved her job, and if it meant cutting corners and living frugally, she was willing to make the sacrifice.
By the time she got back to her apartment it was almost noon and she mentally ticked off her to-do list as she pulled a Diet Coke from the fridge.
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