Page 4 of When Sinners Fall
“Diet Coke.” Penny changes my order for me.
“No, regular coke. The red can, not the silver,” I correct.
Her eyebrows do a funny thing and scrunch together in an unflattering way before she shakes her head. I know what she’s thinking. I should be drinking the diet variety, but that tastes flat and horrible.
As well as my sunshine outlook on life, my figure is another part of me that doesn’t quite fit the world I live in. Smudgy green eyes, dirty blonde hair that I refuse to colour, and a height of five-five don’t help disguise my average shape and size. But my curves make me feel sexy. This bust line can be downright dangerous with the right underwear, and my hips turn my outline into something a Siren could be proud of. The shame is, in this industry, thin is what people – and brides – strive for. I don’t conform nor do I agree with that ideal, and I’ll certainly not change any part of my behaviour to suggest that’s what I support. Girls these days have enough obstacles, and battling societal norms is one too many.
It's okay. I’ll just have some Elven King capture Penny and torture her in his tower during my walk home tonight. My version of revenge, where I can still smile at her when I come in tomorrow, and she’ll be none the wiser.
After Penny leaves with my correct drinks order, I go over the brief outline that Louisa Sage uses for initial meetings. It isn’t as thorough as my usual check sheet, but I’ll easily amend that. The meeting notes that accompany Ms Addison’s booking on the system are non-existent. I scroll on the calendar appointment, hoping I’m wrong, but there’s nothing besides the confirmation of the deposit paid and the initial budget range of ‘full service’ for her wedding.
No date, no theme, no number outline.
If my instincts are still on point, I guess that comes with a reason, which will probably cause me a headache down the line.We’ll soon find out.
An hour or so later, Penny swans over to me. “Ms Addison is in the conference room. Coffee or coke?”
“Coffee. It’s still morning. Thank you, I’ll be right there.” I gather my notes, iPad and portfolio and head in.
Sitting at the head of the oval glass table, with the biggest centrepiece of white peonies and roses, is Ms Addison. Her glossy jet-black hair reminds me of an oil slick as it shimmers in the sun. Her back is rigidly straight, and she drums her impractically long nails on the table.
“Hello, I’m Wren.” I place my things down and hold my hand out to greet Ms Addison.
She manages to look down her nose at me despite her being seated. “Hello,” she replies, fidgeting in her seat and not shaking my hand.
“So, I thought we could start by running over a few of the basics so we can get started.”
“Very well.” As she turns towards the window, her hair ripples in waves down her back. She looks bored. Not like many of the brides I meet, who are brimming with excitement at getting their wedding planning underway.
I roll my eyes as I reach for my notes and pull up a new file on my iPad, then scribble the word Addison to name the file and start.
“Do you have any ideas that you want me to incorporate for your day? A theme, a style, perhaps a venue or vendors you’ve already seen?”
“I want something spectacular, that everyone will talk about, and I want to be the centre of attention.”
“Of course. It’s the bride's day, after all.”
“No. I want to be more than just a bride. I want to bethebride.” She places both her hands on the table as she emphasises the point.
“And your husband-to-be?” I smile, already hating that my first client here will be the Bridezilla to rival all the others I’ve worked with in the past.
“He wants the same. Besides, it’s about my choices and what I want.”
“Right, well, aside from spectacular, any other specifics in mind? Or would you like me to draw up some concepts based on the budget.”
“There is no budget. As long as I want it, it’s on the table. So don’t worry yourself with that as an excuse.”
“Great. That will certainly make it easier.” Yet I know that some of the thoughts that are already racing to mind won’t be to her liking. Not because they aren’t original, creative and inspiring, but because they edge towards the less traditional ideas of wedding décor.
“Well, I hope so. I came here because I’ve seen the Dean wedding. I’m paying you to pull this off for me.”
Entitlement drips from every word this woman says.
“And we will. Anything you can give me in this first consultation will help me to create the wedding you’ve always dreamed of.” The words even taste sickly in my mouth.
Penny finally arrives with the drinks, and I breathe a sigh of relief for the reprieve. I nod and give her a small smile as she delivers the coffee in a branded mug, and a glass of champagne to Ms Addison, despite the early hour.
Caffeine will certainly be a requirement for this, and all future meetings with Ms Addison.
