Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2) (8 page)

Saturday, January 25
th

It's a miracle I didn't kill anyone today. Divine intervention, I'm sure. The result of my mama praying for me my whole life.

Charlotte worked my wedding with me today. Oh, lucky me. That girl has got to be the most incompetent assistant anyone has ever had. Dumber than dirt, I tell you.

As if her presence grating on my nerves wasn't enough, I also had a five-year-old ring bearer who I'm pretty certain meets all the criteria for a case of demon possession.

I'll probably hear darling little Nathan's name ringing in my ears for days because every five minutes someone yelled, "Nathan, no. Nathan, stop. Nathan, quit. Nathan, don't." Well, everyone except his mother, the bride's sister. She somehow remained strategically enthralled with her make-up and unable to tend to her evil offspring. He probably cast a spell on her or something.

I carefully tied the rings onto the ring-bearer's pillow, ensuring the ribbons were tight enough to withstand the hellion's trip down the aisle, but loose enough to be untied easily by a nervous best man on the altar.

I gave the pillow to Charlotte and told Ms. Brain Trust she needed to put it someplace safe until we were ready for it. Then I sent the mothers and groomsmen down the aisle, and lined up the bridesmaids. When I had only one bridesmaid and the maid-of-honor (Hellspawn's mother) left in the line-up, I told Charlotte to go get the pillow.

"I don't have it," she said.

I cued the bridesmaid to go as I hissed at Charlotte, "Well, go get it!"

"I don't have it," Charlotte snapped back at me. "I gave it to him!" She pointed to Nathan, who was trying to stand on his head in the foyer while his eight-year-old sister Hannah plucked the petals from her flower-girl basket and dropped them on him.

"Hannah, put the petals back in your basket," I said, closing the doors behind their mother, the last in the processional. She never even looked back. "Nathan, buddy, come here. Where'd you put the pillow?"

He ran past me and slapped his hands in the water fountain, and I wished for a moment it was holy water so the truth would be revealed once and for all. Evil of me, I suppose, but this kid was on my last good nerve.

"Nathan, come here. I need to know what you did with the pillow." I don't know why I thought he'd listen to me. He hadn't listened to anyone else.

The organist began the bridesmaids' song again, and panic set in. The kids should have already been down the aisle, and I should have already been on my way to retrieve the bride and her father from the dressing room.

I crouched in front of him and got doused with water flicked from his hands into my face. "Nathan, listen to me." He flicked the remaining drops of water at me, and I grabbed hold of his arm as he tried to make a run for it. "I need the pillow, Nathan."

Before I knew what happened, he punched me right in the nose. Hard enough to make my head swim and my eyes go all dark with twinkly spots for a moment.

"I'm Batman! No one messes with Batman," he said, charging past me and back into the foyer.

"Catch him, Charlotte!"

Ms. Brain Trust stood there dumbfounded, looking back and forth between me and the little tuxedoed beast as he struggled to open the heavy door. He managed to squeeze himself outside just as I got to my feet and in pursuit.

"He threwed it in the lake."

I stopped and looked back at Hannah, who had put her petals back in the basket and was busy shredding them one by one.

"What did you say, Hannah?"

She repeated it without ever looking at me.

"Nathan threwed the pillow in the lake."

I bolted out the door and after Nathan, waving at the bride and father to go back inside the dressing room. "I'll be right there. Just gotta grab Nathan!"

"Nathan! Get your ass over here, boy," the bride's father bellowed at his grandson, who completely ignored him and set out to climb the nearest tree.

"Nathan, I'm gonna get your Daddy! Get off that tree and get over here," the bride yelled, but her nephew kept right on climbing.

I reached the base of the tree just in time to grab his ankle, but he kicked wild, so I let go and ducked. My nose still hurt too much to risk a heel to the face. Nathan perched himself on a limb just out of reach and looked down at me, grinning like the devil himself.

"Nathan, what did you do with the pillow?"

He nodded and pointed to the lake before laughing and clapping his hands in delight.

I scanned the lake near the shore but saw no sign of the small pillow.

The bride's father pushed me aside and easily grabbed his grandson's legs, yanking him down from the tree and planting him on the ground.

"Get yourself inside, boy," he said as Nathan took off running away from him.

I scanned the lake one more time before facing the bride, uncertain how to tell her the wonderful news.

"Um, I think Nathan may have thrown the rings in the lake."

No way to really sugar-coat it or pretty it up much. Especially when the organist was on his third run-through of the bridesmaids' song waiting for the flower girl and ring bearer to enter.

"He what?" She shrieked loud enough that I am sure the guests could hear her over the organ music.

I sent her and her dad back inside the dressing room with Nathan and Hannah, and then I opened the sanctuary door just wide enough to cue the organist to play some filler music and stall. He glared back at me, but I had no fear of him after dealing with the pint-sized prince of the underworld.

It took me almost twenty minutes of wading barefoot in the shallow water along the shore to find that stupid pillow. The tannins in the lake from the tall Cypress trees that lined it had already stained the white satin a deep rust color. Thank God I wore a skirt today. The hem got a little wet, but not as bad as pants would have been.

I'm proud to say both rings stayed firmly attached to the pillow, a credit to the knot badge earned during my illustrious three-month stint as a Girl Scout.

Charlotte did not even so much as apologize. Not that Nathan's behavior was her fault, but who hands a five-year-old demon a pillow with thousands of dollars of diamonds tied on it? Aargh.

No word at all from Cabe today. Texted him three times between weddings and called on my way home from work to tell him about the ring drama. No answer and no call back.

I'm sure he just got tied up doing something, but what? We talked yesterday before my rehearsal, and he didn't mention having plans today. He didn't call me to say goodnight last night, either. Which is odd.

No big deal, I guess. Miss his voice, though.

Sunday, January 26th

Okay.

I haven't heard from Cabe since we talked Friday afternoon. He hasn't returned my calls or texts all weekend. I'm a little freaked out. I thought about calling Maggie, but I figure she would've called me if something had happened to him. I don't want to look like some psycho-girl calling his mom just because I haven't heard from him. Maybe he went fishing or something. Camping with someone. Maybe he is just somewhere he doesn't have cell service, and he didn't realize it until he got there.

I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I don't know why.

If I don't hear from him tomorrow, I'll call Maggie.

Monday, January 27th

I didn't hear from him today, either. I'm beyond freaked out now. I couldn't concentrate at all today. I must have checked my phone twenty million times, just in case I'd missed a text or a call. I kept turning up the volume. Turning the silent feature on and off to see if it got stuck somehow. I even called my cell phone from my office phone to make sure the damned thing was working.

I dialed his number every half hour this morning but forced myself to stop when it produced no result.

I feel sick. I don't know what's going on. I want to call his mom, but I don't know what to say. I'm scared. I still think if something had happened to him, Maggie would have called me. I mean, even if she's on the same page as Galen and wants me to leave him alone, I can't imagine she wouldn't let me know if he'd had an accident or something.

So what if I call her and she tells me she hasn't seen him all weekend? Or what if I call her and she tells me he's been home all weekend?

Which sends me down another rabbit hole completely. One I really don't want to venture down. It terrifies me that something could have happened to him. But the alternative also scares me.

What if something happened, and it's just
me
he's not calling??

Even as I write that, my mind reels with the question of what it would be. I don't know.

Did I do something to make him angry?

Did Galen turn him against me?

Did he meet someone else?

My stomach turns at the thought.

I shake my head every time it enters my mind to try and stop it from taking root.

This is Cabe. My best friend. I've known him for five years. Evidently, he's been in love with me for five years even although I didn't know that. He literally just told me days ago he's never been happier in his life. So he wouldn't just meet someone in a bar and then drop off the face of the earth and not call me.

Would he?

I want to throw up.

I want to drive over there.

I want him to call.

I want to cry.

Tuesday, January 28th

I couldn't take the deafening silence. I left work early and drove to his office. Tuesday is usually the only day he has to work from the cubicle due to the morning staff meetings so I figured I had a pretty good chance of finding him there. If he wasn't at work, I had decided I would drive to his mom's and if he wasn't there either, I'd just sit in her driveway until he came home.

I found his car in the parking lot at work right away. I don't know if I was more relieved or pissed.

I marched right into the receptionist and asked to see Cabe Shaw. Probably the first person ever to do so since his job description does not involve direct contact with the outside world. She looked a little hesitant at first, which may have had something to do with the dark circles under my eyes, the crazy puffiness of my face from days of tears, and the slightly crazed vibe I was giving off.

She went and got him though, and when he walked into the reception area, I felt torn between wanting to collapse against him in relief and wanting to tear out his throat with my bare hands.

He didn't look at me. He walked toward me with his head down, hands in his jean pockets. I took it to mean admission of guilt, and I decided to catalog every aspect of his appearance so the moment would be committed to memory forever. His crisp, white linen shirt, casually unbuttoned to reveal just the tips of dark blonde hair peeking up from his chest. His gold chain laying against his neck in the exact spot my tongue had traced mere days before. The top of his tousled head reflecting the sunlight from the window in sparks of gold and bronze with deeper undertones almost brown.

When he lifted his eyes to mine, they took my breath away, the normally clear blue clouded by an expression I didn't want to decipher. His lips, so soft and velvet against mine in these last few weeks, stretched tight into a line across his face, just above the strong, chiseled jawline that takes the edge off his pretty face and secures his masculinity. He stared at me, motionless. Emotionless. Silent.

I stared back. Unable to breathe or speak. I took in a short gasp of air to fight off the lightheaded swirl of darkness that threatened to overtake me, and the breath rushed back out of me with a gargled sigh against my will.

"What the hell, Cabe?"

He looked down again, kicking the toe of his boot against the triangular pattern on the carpet.

"Look at me." I fought to keep my voice from shrieking. The receptionist busied herself with shuffling papers, but I could feel her sonar hearing zoned in on our every word. I trembled all over with the effort to stay calm and not lash out at him with fists and fury.

He looked up, casually, as though he had heard a bird in the distance and thought perhaps he could see it fly. His eyes met mine, but they stared right through me, a force of cold slapping me so hard it almost knocked me back a step.

"Cabe," I said his name again, not sure how much longer I could hold on to any measure of calm.

"We need to talk," he finally whispered, looking down at the carpet again. "I'll call you tonight."

"What? Let's talk now!" My voice came out shrill, crackling with emotion. I knew standing in the office lobby with Rosie Receptionist listening in was not the time or place, but fear of what he had to say gripped me, and I didn't think I'd survive waiting until night. Besides, what if he didn't call? I wanted answers while I had him standing in front of me.

"I can't talk now. I left a meeting to come down here. I know I should have called you. I just didn't know what to say. But I'll call you tonight, okay? I gotta go."

He turned, and I lurched forward to run after him as he walked away. To force him to turn back and talk to me. But Rosie Receptionist's eyes met mine, and I stopped in my tracks. There was no judgment there. Not even pity, really. Just a shared female understanding. I could feel her eyes willing me not to make an ass of myself. Maybe I'll send her a thank you card one day. When all this makes more sense. If it ever does.

He texted me an hour ago. Said he could come over around eight if that's okay. I am on pins and needles. I want to tell him not to come. There is absolutely no way this is going to be good news. No way at all it will be something I want to hear. Maybe I should just leave. Not be here when he gets here. Put off the inevitable.

I can't breathe. Waves of nausea rise and swell within me but I can't throw up. I pick up the phone to call Melanie or Carmen, but then I hang up again. I don't know what to say. I don't want to say anything. Like maybe if I don't say anything this won't be true.

Dark thoughts creep around in my head as I try to reject them all. I keep telling myself to just wait and hear what he has to say, but I already know it's over. I saw that in his eyes. Cabe's gone, and I don't know why. And I don't know how to live without him again. Especially now. Now that I know I've loved him all along.