Page 137 of Champagne Fizz

“Are you ready?”

Olivia takes a deep breath, looking at her mother and grandmother for strength, before nodding her head. “Let’s not keep Ned waiting,” she says.

I hand her the barefoot sandals she chose; they have sparkly rhinestones (she had to havesomeglitter) and white flowers that decorate her ankles and toes. The bottoms of her feet are bare so she can feel the sand as she walks down the aisle.

“Let’s go to the beach,” I announce, and Olivia grabs her bouquet.

* * *

At the ceremony site, everything looks perfect: white chairs, zen-combed sand, lanterns and eucalyptus leading up to a stunning backdrop of blood orchids and gold trim. It’s the perfect blend of romance with a hint of decadence (designed to match the interior upstairs at Flambé). But what I love is that itfeelslike Ned and Olivia. It feels whimsical and sophisticated.

I notice Esme, Desmond, and Naomi all looking for a seat and I quickly dash over to them.

“You guys can sit over here,” I say, escorting them into an optimum position for photos. That was Simon’s idea. If you want to get into a magazine, it sure helps to have candid photos of a celebrity!

The three kindly take the seats I offer, and I check out what they’re wearing. Desmond’s in a classy beige suit, and Esme looks like a mermaid in a whimsical seafoam color that accentuates her lavender up-do. Naomi looks stunning in cobalt blue and gold jewelry, and I can’t help but wonder if Desmond brought a stylist for all three—with them looking so dang red-carpet worthy.

“Naomi.” I turn to address her. “I wanted to say thank you for going out of your way to let Mrs. Voss stay at your beach house, and for giving her spa treatments.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Naomi says, pushing her long blond hair off her shoulders. “It’s always nice to get a little freelance work, plus it makes me feel less awkward about crashing this wedding.”

“Oh, you’re not crashing it!” I say quickly. “I invited you.”

“You invited me to drop off Mrs. Voss,” Naomi corrects. “I don’t know if that’s an invitation.”

“You’re allowed to be here,” Esme cuts in. “You’re my plus one.”

“I’mnot your plus one?” Desmond teases, nudging his girlfriend.

“As I remember,yougot your own separate invitation, hot shot,” Esme tosses back. “Naomi here ismydate.”

“You realize I barely know Olivia and Ned,” Desmond points out. “It doesn’t make sense that I got a separate invitation.”

“Really, Mr. Rich and Famous?” Esme pinches her boyfriend, before nodding at the wedding photographer who’s definitely captured more than one shot of Desmond. “How much do you want to bet that you’re seated next to the bride and groom at the reception, and Naomi and I are at the kids’ table?”

“I’m going to make a scene if that’s true,” Desmond jokes.

“You wish you were that good of an actor,” Esme sasses back. “Did Beckett write you a scene for the reception? Because we both know your improv skills are lacking.”

“I wasn’t hired to be the lead of Billionaire Heat for my improv skills,” Desmond shoots back.

“Nope,” Esme says with a coy smile, “you were hired for your ten-inch—”

“I can assure you—” I cut in before this gets out of hand. “You are all sitting together at the reception. Andnotat the kids’ table.”

Naomi laughs at my attempt to deescalate the situation. “They’re like this all the time,” she explains.

“I supposed as long as they’re in love,” I reply.

“You may think Arie is the naughty one,” Naomi lowers her voice, “but these two—”

“Oh my gosh!” Esme smacks her friend. “What is wrong with you? Don’t start gossiping about my love life with the wedding planner!”

“Hey, I’m just jealous,” Naomi chides, playfully. “I don’t get to live out Billionaire Heat in real life like you do.”

“Our love life is nothing like Billionaire Heat!” Esme defends.

“Well, maybe it is a little,” Desmond cuts in.

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