Page 5 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

“I asked about your experience.” His downturned lip told Mary he questioned her intelligence, too.

Alex raised an eyebrow and curled up one side of his mouth into that smirk that said,Yeah, I’d like to hear this, too.

Screw him. She stood up straighter. “I have twenty years’ experience in the wedding industry. Since I was fifteen, I’ve worked at my family’s limousine business, where I’ve handled transportation for all kinds of events, from bachelor parties to formal weddings. Going beyond transportation, I’ve consulted with brides and grooms, arranging reservations for restaurants and activities. We have a four-point-eight rating on Yelp. People love us because we treat everyone like family.”

“But you haven’t actually planned any weddings,” the taller fiancé finally spoke up.

Mary tried to keep the wince off her face. “I’m working on one right now. But because my business is new, I can offer?—”

“You won’t find a more detail-oriented planner.” Alex stepped forward. “Mary knows every vendor and every venue in Las Vegas. And she drives a hard bargain. She’ll get you more than you expect for your budget.”

Mary forced her smile wider. Who was he to swoop in here and try to rescue her? She could take care of herself. Her family, too. She’d been doing it since she was tall enough to reach the stovetop controls. She needed to do a better job of marketing her business. Like Alex. Even though La Villa was far from the action at the heart of the Strip, it was busy all the time. His dad, also a casino owner, must have taught him all his tricks.

“We’ll think about it,” the first man said.

“Take my card.” Mary handed it to him. Instead of the white tiger they used in the car business, the logo on the dove-gray cards was a blue-eyed panther wearing a flower crown.

“Don’t think too long.” Alex rested his arm across her shoulders. “Mary’s schedule books up fast.”

As the couple walked away, Mary allowed herself a single sniff of Alex’s expensive cologne before she ducked out from under his arm. “I didn’t need that. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” His brows scrunched together the same way they used to in math class. The grooves between them were deeper now. “But I thought you could use the assist. I’d have done it for any other friend.”

Would he? Since graduation, he’d cultivated a reputation as a businessman with a relentless focus on success. She nodded at his much fancier booth in the middle of the room, staffed by Evie McAlister, his very capable wedding planner. She had screens and screens of photos in the gallery on La Villa’s website. “I’m the competition now, you know.”

He flashed that secret smile they used to share. “I’m proud of you for striking out on your own. Following your dream.”

“But what about?—”

“Vegas is a big town,” he said. “There’s plenty of business for both of us. Besides, everything I said was true. You’ll be amazing at whatever you set your mind to do. As long as you don’t undervalue yourself.”

“Undervalue myself?”

“I heard you, about to offer those guys a steep discount. People don’t want a cut-rate wedding. They want value. Which you can deliver at full price.”

She gritted her teeth. Had she been that obvious? “It’s a catch-22. Customers want experience, which I don’t have.”

“Yet.” He flashed her that confident smile, the one he’d always used on her before they had to give a presentation in school. “Customers will come, don’t worry.”

She wished she felt that certain. She’d stepped into the family business after it was established. Starting new was unfamiliar territory. Alex had done it with his piano bar. Then, instead of taking the safe route by taking over his father’s casino, he’d bought that old motel he turned into La Villa. She supposed she could take his advice. They could be friendly competitors. But she’d stop there. Older and wiser now than she was when she’d given him her heart, she knew better than to trust him.

She took a step toward her other booth, where a thirtysomething Southeast Asian woman lingered in front of the poster that showed their limousines. Where was Rafe? He’d said he’d be right back.

“Sorry, I have to…” She tipped her head at the potential customer.

“Of course.” He nodded but stayed where he was, surrounded by the dove gray, petal pink, and hydrangea blue of her booth.

As she talked to the woman about limousine options for a girls’ weekend, she wondered again where Rafe had gone. He was supposed to be handling the car booth. With his adorable cleft chin, he could charm women without even trying. In fact, before he’d wandered off, his splinted finger had seemed like a draw for them. Everyone wanted to talk to the cute guy with a visible injury, especially when they found out how shy he was. It seemed the fewer words Rafe said, the more business he brought in.

Mary never had a problem talking to people. Fifteen minutes later, the woman walked away, having booked Nick Cage. (The stretch convertible was every woman’s favorite.) Mary knew the names of everyone in the group and which ones were most likely to get out of control. She noted them in the file so Rafe, whose finger should be fully recovered in time to chauffeur them, could keep his eye on party-girl Samira.

She glanced at her party planning booth and was shocked to find Alex still there. He was using that damned grin on a beautiful Black woman. Mary huffed. Really, the man had no shame, flirting with someone inherbooth. He was probably keeping actual customers away. Mary strode over to shoo him off.

“…can offer you a full service, from invitations to honeymoon planning. Mary is committed to quality. Plus, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better negotiator in the city. You won’t be disappointed.”

She stopped so suddenly her shoe caught on the carpet, and she had to windmill her arms to stay upright. Alex was selling her unproven business? What was his angle? Once she regained her balance, she hurried over.

“Hi.” She stuck out her hand. “Mary Forza, president of Forza Events.”

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