Page 38 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“Over cash? A couple this year.”

No wonder he’d wanted a retainer. “I promise I’ll pay. If you want more up-front…?”

He shook his head. “No, I trust you.” He picked up another pork ball with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth. “So, that’s the worst thing that’s ever happened?”

Oh no. There was a clear winner in that category. I shoved the remains of the food away, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Even the memories of that day filled me with horror.

“Nuh-uh. That was the shart bride.”

“The what?”

“The shart bride.” I screwed my eyes shut. “She’d just walked into the reception with her new husband when she got this really odd look on her face. Surprise mixed with horror. Then she dashed off to the bathroom. It turned out she’d needed to pass wind, only a little more came out than she’d intended. She’d been drinking these weird slimming shakes all week, and they’d wreaked havoc with her digestion.”

“So what did you do?”

“This was a big wedding. Huge.Hellomagazine had a photographer there. And we had a horribly tight schedule—cake-cutting, dinner, the first dance, speeches, toasts. A famous band playing in the evening. I ran after her and found her in the bathroom, crying, and the smell… Imagine swimming in a lake of raw sewage.”

“I don’t think I want to.” Reed pushed his carton of chow mein away too.

“Oh, and it gets worse.”

“How?”

“She was wearing latex shapewear, and the poop had kind of filled it, like a giant balloon. Her dress had hoops and layers of netting and organza, and we couldn’t fit it into a bathroom stall, and the designer had sewn her into it so we couldn’t just take it off. Kayla blocked the door while Annie ran off to find cleaning supplies, and I had to crawl under there and unsnap the panel in the crotch.”

Horrible memories flooded back and when I say flooded, I mean it literally. A river of stinking goo ran out, the colour of chocolate and the consistency of vegetable oil. I pushed the takeout carton farther away and began laughing hysterically.

“Are you making this up?” Reed asked.

“If only.”

“What happened? What did you do?”

“Cleaned up the mess with toilet paper and baby wipes. Some had squished up under the bodice, and there was a brown stain on the back of the dress, so Annie sponged it off as best she could and we took Kayla’s chiffon scarf and tied it so the ends trailed down the bride’s back. I fixed her make-up and changed into my backup outfit, then she headed out and cut the cake.”

“The wedding went on?”

“The wedding always goes on, barring examples one and two. Everyone was polite enough not to mention the stench, and the magazine photos came out lovely. We had to pretend there was a plumbing problem and close down the ladies’ bathroom, though.”

Reed shook his head, incredulous. “I had no idea. I thought you just arranged flowers and stuff.”

So many people did, and it trivialised my whole job. “Weddings are a very serious business.”

“I’m beginning to understand that.”

“And so often, the groom doesn’t want to be actively involved. Like when I got married myself, for example. My husband-to-be was happy to write cheques, but even trying to get him to go to a suit fitting was a challenge. Still, at least his mother didn’t try to take over. You have no idea how many times that happens.”

“But you’re not married anymore?”

Of course his research would have turned that up, but it wasn’t something I liked to discuss. Who enjoyed admitting to their mistakes?

“It turned out we weren’t as compatible as I thought. How about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Reed shook his head. “I’m not in a place where I could consider a relationship at the moment.”

“Too busy?”

“Something like that.”

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