Page 3 of April

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Hey, I’m kind of naked in here!” the bride yelled for her through the closed door. “Come in, hot stuff. Get me off, and I promise I’ll do the same.”

Asher’s eyes went wide. Her assistant looked shocked and confused.

“She’s drunk.”

“Did she just call youhot stuff?”

“No, I think she’s just talking to–”

“Asher, come in here.”

The bathroom door opened then, and the bride walked out with only her bottom half still covered. Her one-piece teddy had the straps hanging down at her sides, and her breasts were exposed.

“Please. I promise, I’ll make it– Oh. Hi.” The bride finally noticed the assistant standing there, staring at her.

“Hi,” the assistant replied with an awkward wave.

“I don’t know if I can handle all three of us.”

“You – cover up,” Asher stated, pointing at the bride. “You – do what I asked.” She pointed to the assistant. “I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry up, lover,” the bride said with a laugh.

“She’s drunk. Not her lover,” Asher said to the assistant. “I’ll be right back.”

Asher left the room and pressed her body against the door once she was free, letting out a deep sigh. This was not supposed to go this way. This wedding had been a fairly easy one to plan. She’d had a year and a half to do it. The groom hadn’t cared much about anything, and the bride had gone along with whatever her mother had wanted. She’d managed to avoid the fighting between the bride and her parents over budget and colors, so, overall, she’d thought the whole experience to be a smooth one. She should’ve expected that that would mean today would be difficult.

A minute later, she found the groom partying in his room with the groomsmen. The assistant had been right: he’d been shocked to discover that it was time for him to get married. Asher had gotten him to straighten up, pop a mint, and get himself together before she found the minister and let him know about the delay herself. Rushing back to the bridal suite, she found the assistant steaming the dress and the makeup artist hard at work fixing the damage while the hair person was getting her equipment back out to fix the hair.

“I have to pee again,” the bride stated. “She made me drink a whole bottle of water.” She pointed to the assistant.

“Bless you,” Asher whispered to the assistant when she approached.

???

“Hey. How’s it going?” Linden asked.

“It’s going,” she replied into the phone. “Yours?”

“It’s about done. When the family doesn’t pay for an open bar, these things end early.”

“Yeah…” Asher said with a sigh. “Open bar here. But over half the guests have left already.”

“Really?”

“Southern society wedding.”

“Ah…”

Linden had joined the company only a couple of years after Asher, so she knew how these kinds of events went. It wasn’t about the ceremony, the romance, the love, or even the free booze and party. It was about being invited and being seen. Most people stayed for the first dance and left shortly after.

“So, how tired are you?” Linden asked.

Asher was leaning against a pillar outside of the building. The ceremony had gone off forty-five minutes after the originally scheduled time, and the reception had been in the same location, so after an hour of pictures, the food was finally served, and the music was now playing. She’d watched this couple, which clearly wasn’t meant to be, get married and wondered why they were doing it. It wasn’t her place – she was their wedding planner, not their couple’s counselor – but they seemed to barely talk throughout much of the reception and didn’t look even remotely in love.

Hearing Linden’s question, Asher closed her eyes for a second because she knew why her best friend was asking it. Linden, at thirty-five, had finally come out recently and had been going out a lot in the city. She’d been in that phase where she wanted to meet as many women as possible because, as she put it, she was finally free. Asher was happy for her, but she wasn’t in her twenties anymore, so going out nearly every night after working all day was beginning to take its toll on her. Still, if Linden needed her there for moral support, she would be.

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