Page 1 of Champagne Fizz

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KENDALL

“Imposter syndrome isn’t real,” Sue says in my ear.

I walk into the lobby of the Atlantis Resort with my headphones in. My favorite business guru, Sue Blade, is preaching in my ear as I listen intently to her weekly podcastSlay Your Business. It’s the one podcast I never miss. Obviously, cause here I am listening to her while I’m on the way to a client meeting.

“I’ve heard a thousand women complain about how they feel like they don’t deserve the jobs they have or the businesses they’ve created,” Sue says, starting in on one of her signature rants as I stroll through the Atlantis lobby.

This hotel is gorgeous: modern, chic. It screams high-end-you-don’t-belong-here-Kendall-please-leave. It’s true, I’m not the chichi-impress-you-with-my-money type. This is not the kind of placeI’dever stay at, much less where I’d throw my wedding. But it’s not my wedding I’m planning. It’s my clients’.

The problem is the Atlantis makes my knees weak and I’ve learned to trust that tell-tale warning that something is off. Not that the Atlantis isn’t a beautiful resort, or the perfect location for another couple’s wedding.

It just feels wrong for my clients’ wedding.

The Atlantis is way too high-end.

It’s way too sexy.

It’s way too … I can’t put my finger on it … it’s just somuch.

Ned and Olivia are adorable. They’re sweet, and artistic, and grounded. Nothing about them screams impress-the-Jones’ with diamond-encrusted fanciness. In fact, I think Ned is allergic to all things frou-frou and glittery, and he’d probably sue me for suggesting anything with rhinestones on it.

Sure, Ned Voss is a lawyer, and yes, his fiancée Olivia works at the restaurant on the roof. From the outset, it would seem like having their wedding at the Atlantis would be perfect. Except I can just feel it—it’s off.

Weddings should be personal. They should be intimate. They should be a reflection of the couple, not a smorgasbord of look-how-rich-I-am floral vomit.

This place is sterile. Particularly when you consider how vibrant Ned and Olivia are.

I head for the elevator and I try my best to not write the place off completely based on the lobby. First impressions can be deceiving.

“I’m not going to enable you,” Sue Blade rants in my ear. “Not like the hundreds of other blogs and podcasts that will tell you imposter syndrome is real. Trust me, those vultures get paid handsomely to sell you the fairytale that you deserve it. But, I call bullshit!”

This is why I love Sue Blade. She’s one-hundred-percent badass.

Whenever I’m in a funk, or I feel like a failure and I can’t hack the entrepreneurial life, Sue Blade is there to give me a swift kick in the lady parts. She tells it like it is and doesn’t sugarcoat it. Unlike the restaurant on the roof, which I’ve heard is all surface—nothing but sugar and fire.

“If you feel like an imposter,” Sue continues, “you are!”

I’m not much for cults, but if Sue Blade said drink this magical elixir and you’ll make a million dollars, I guarantee I’d be one of the first lemmings racing over the cliff.

“If you feel like you don’t deserve it, then that’s a huge red flag that something is wrong in your business—in your life—and you’re not dealing with it.”

I probably sound desperate—saying I’d follow Sue’s advice so blindly—but the truth is I need someone to listen to, someone to believe in. Blade’s podcast is the only thing that’s kept me from quitting the wedding business altogether. Especially after I was fired from Veronica West’s Hawaiian Wedding Empire for—get this—having a brain and attempting to incorporate some of my own vision into the design.

Wedding-planner-forbid I have a creative mind and I want to use it.

“Imposter syndrome is not something you should push aside,” Sue bellows as I walk to the elevators and push the up button. “Imposter syndrome is not the byproduct of The Man holding you down with his patriarchal mountain of expectations because you’re a woman. Oh no! If you want to hide behind patriarchal bullshit, then you’re already fucked. If you’re feeling imposter syndrome, it’s because it’s real. Because youarean imposter! It means you have work to do, girlfriend. And if you’ve listened to my podcast even a little bit you know my mantra—”

“Take accountability and do something about it,” I mumble under my breath along with Sue as she says it.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

I look up to see someone else is waiting in the elevator corridor with me.

That’s just my luck. The second I start chanting Sue Blade affirmations, of course the universe is going to conspire to put a hot guy within ear-shot so I look like a nut-job.

And for the record, he’s not just hot; he’s let’s-check-off-every-box-on-Kendall’s-personal-wish-list hot.

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