Page 80 of Trouble Walked In

Lizzie swallowed the wave of panic that had lodged in the middle of her throat and tried to find the steely resolve she knew she possessed somewhere. The special moment she’d spent so much time crafting just crashed like a ten-car pileup on the freeway to the chant of “Della! Della! Della!”

She stood next to Renic and watched her guests move into the ballroom, feeling stunned. She’d never, ever had an event go so horribly wrong, so fast. It was like the plumbing disaster in the Rose Room, but so much worse. When the pipe burst, all she had to do was find the money to hire someone to fix it.

She didn’t think there was any amount of money that could spin this invasion by a horde of crazed Della fans as anything other than a complete train wreck. Someone’s special day had been turned into a nightmare of epic proportions that was about to include the police and maybe riot gear.

The bride and groom remained in a cocoon formed by their closest friends and family near the kitchen. The bride saton one of the chairs, she assumed, since she couldn’t see much of her beyond a flash of white fabric every now and then. Her not-so-quiet sobs peppered the hostile glances and angry discussions taking place at that end of the hall.

Lizzie wanted to cry herself. Shelikedthis cute couple. They’d been a delight to work with. Reasonable, understanding, easygoing. This wasn’t bridezilla making a mountain out of a molehill. This was a sweet girl who’d just had one of the best days of her life turned into a media- and fan-fueled circus.

It was heartbreaking. How could sheevermake it up to the poor girl?

Lizzie’s phone pinged. She took a quick glance at the incoming text from Piper.

WTF? Della started a riot?

She raised an eyebrow at that. “How the hell has Piper heard about this so fast?”

“Social media,” Renic muttered.

She texted a quick response to Piper.Angry DJ blabbed her location. Not her fault.

Sure it’s not,Piper responded.

Lizzie could hear the bitterness behind that, even in a text message.

“There’s no putting this horse back in the barn, is there.” Lizzie stared at her phone. She should call someone. The Army, maybe. “It’s probably being livestreamed right now.”

Renic checked his own phone. “Yeah, it’s trending on Twitter. But so far nobody has an actual shot of her, so they can’t prove she’s here. They’ll get bored pretty fast. We just have to wait it out.”

The father of the bride separated from the wedding party and stalked in their direction. Lizzie cringed. “I don’t think that’s an option.”

“What the hell are you trying to pull?” Mr. Simmons gestured wildly with one hand to indicate the all-encompassing chaos. “You turned my baby girl’s wedding into a damn riot.”

Lizzie pushed her feelings of guilt, anguish, and confusion to the back of her mind to deal with later, and pulled on the determined, calm, professional persona she used when others around her were in turmoil. It was a trick she’d learned a long time ago, and it always worked to defuse even the worst of situations.

“Mr. Simmons, I promise you these people have nothing to do with us or your daughter’s wedding. The police have already been called. They’ll be here any minute, and they’ll get rid of these trespassers. In the meantime, there’s no reason we can’t continue with the reception.”

Voices rumbled at the end of the hall.

“Continue?” the maid of honor squeaked. “How do we do that? These freaks will probably burn down the building with us in it.”

The groom’s mother stormed toward Lizzie like an angry hornet. “We’re not staying here another second. Get the car, Henry.”

“No!” the bride cried out in a voice that shook with anguish. “We can’t go. We haven’t even had the toast yet. And the video. Nobody’s seen the video.”

“We can’t get the cars,” the best man said. “I checked. The whole driveway’s blocked. It’ll take hours to get out of here.”

“This is a disaster,” Mr. Simmons muttered under his breath. “This is a damn unmitigated disaster. I’ll never hear the end of this. The boy’s father was dead set on a church wedding. We told him it was our call and he could either get with the program or go sit in the church by himself. He’ll beshoving this in my face at every family get-together from now until we’re both in our graves.”

Lizzie cringed. She could already see the review Mr. Simmons would post on social media.Don’t have your wedding at Belhurst Castle unless you enjoy riots.

She clasped her hands together and gave Mr. Simmons her most apologetic, pained expression. “I know the last few moments have been chaotic, to say the least. And I know it seems like the worst possible thing that could have happened, but I promise I can make this right.”

She took Mr. Simmons’s arm and gently guided him back to the group. The wedding party all turned to watch them approach with expressions that ranged from anger to confusion. “Shanna, can I talk to you for a second?”

The group parted to allow her access to the bride. The devastation on the girl’s face stabbed Lizzie in the heart. She silently cursed the fact that her own family drama had caused all this.

The surreal life of a pop star was bad enough when it was part of someone’s childhood. The cameras, the fans, the noise—it was manageable if it grew over time, but not when it landed all at once on everyday people in the middle of a quiet country wedding.

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