Page 129 of Champagne Fizz

I flush at that comment. Do men really need to see a stranger’s breasts before getting married? Why is this a male tradition?

“You’re embarrassing the wedding planner,” Ned chides.

“She knows what a bachelor party is for,” Connor quips.

“I do,” I say. “And you boys can tell me all about it tomorrow. Why don’t you head up to your suite to prepare?” I not-so-subtly try to pull them towards the elevators, hoping Connor will get the hint that standing in the lobby talking about strippers isn’t going to stop his mother from coming out of the bathroom. “Ned, I’ll have your suit delivered tomorrow morning, just in case shenanigans turn into spilling alcohol all over Mr. Armani.”

“Good thinking,” Ned nods, eyeing his brother like he isn’t sure what Connor’s got up his sleeve.

“It’s going to be epic,” Connor says, finally moving his brother toward the elevators.

“Just remember to avoid doing anything that Olivia won’t approve of,” I remind.

“It’s a bachelor party,” Connor retorts. “It’s Ned’s last taste of freedom.”

I peek over my shoulder at the ladies’ restroom: no Mrs. Voss yet. “Freedom doesn’t have to result in being left at the altar,” I quip back.

“This is Ned,” Connor says dryly. “He’ll probably bring a damn blindfold. He’s that smitten with Olivia.”

“Not smitten,” Ned corrects, “in love with.”

“Good man,” I nod, motioning for them to hurry up and get in the elevator, to which Connor finally obliges. Doesn’t he realize his mother is about to make an entrance? “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

The elevator chimes shut just as I hear the demon heels of Mrs. Voss clicking behind me.

“What are you doing?” she snips. “Why haven’t you checked in yet?”

“Right this way, Mrs. Voss,” I say, leading her toward the desk and ignoring her comment.

Connor and Ned’s mother is just as lovely with the front desk clerk, and by lovely I mean she’s a witchy ball of angry centipedes. I remind myself to not take anything she says personally, and it makes me wonder how Ned and Connor managed to grow up so level-headed. Not to mention, she’s supposed to be the nicer of the two parents.

I was really off-base when I thought reuniting Ned’s family for his wedding would make me the wedding-planner of the century. At this point, I’m hoping I can get my bride and groom married before Mrs. Voss elephant stomps her negativity through the big day.

“Your room is 3035,” the desk clerk says. “You take the elevators behind you to the west tower. Your room is on floor thirty. You have an ocean view, and it is spectacular!”

“Wait, what?” I turn to the clerk, my palms sweating. “Did you say room 3035?”

Mrs. Voss eyes me like an ant she wants to squish.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the clerk says cheerily. “It’s one of our best rooms, as you requested.”

Only, Ned’s room is right next door!

“That’s too high,” I say, grabbing the room key from the counter top and pushing it back to the clerk. “Mrs. Voss gets vertigo. We need something closer to the ground.”

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Voss snips. “I don’t get—”

“Something near the pool maybe?” I suggest. “Or the spa on level three?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Mrs. Voss grabs the key card from the front desk clerk. “This room is fine. I like a view. From now on, sir”—Mrs. Voss pushes a tip toward the front desk agent—“please refer tomeconcerning my accommodations. The wedding planner may be in charge of some things, but what room I’m in isn’t one of them!”

“Of course, Madam,” the desk clerk says, taking the tip and tucking it in his pocket.

Mrs. Voss turns to me in a huff. “Please go back to whatever you need to do for the wedding, I no longer need your assistance.” She snaps her fingers for the bellhop. “If I’m lucky, I won’t even see you on wedding day—which is what the help should be: invisible.”

She struts toward the elevators and I now understand why Ned didn’t want his parents at his wedding. Heaven forbid Mrs. Voss treats Olivia this way on the big day. The last thing I need is Ned and Olivia feeling belittled.

I pull out my phone and dial Connor’s number, watching his mother snap her fingers at the bellhop like he’s a dog. They enter the elevator, and it strikes me that Mrs. Voss is exactly the type of woman who’d hire Veronica West, which means everything I do will disappoint her.

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