Plus One
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
The Invitation
Crap, crap, crap, crap, oh crap!
The train of words ran through my head as if it were the chorus to my favorite song. But it's not like I was simply going insane, running around a floral shop digging through every bouquet, storage fridge, and display case in the two story building for no reason. Oh no, I had a very good reason to do such things. As a wedding planner, it's my job to make sure that everything went smoothly to leave the bride and groom with minimal stress as the days led to their special day. I simply take in all their dreams, fantasies, and preferences and turn it into a wedding. Of course, there are presentations, consultations, meetings, tastings, etcetera; but really, I have the final say and I take the blame for every detail that goes wrong in said plans. So of course, when it comes to the wedding of Rosalie Hale and Emmett McCarty—my boss' nephew—I would settle for nothing less than perfection. So, when the bride specifically asked for white roses with absolutely no yellow hue, and the florist shows me her bouquet of white roses with a bright yellow hue…well, you bet your single ass I'm about to go hunt down every white rose in the shop to make an appropriate bouquet before she—and my boss—arrives.
There's some! I told myself mentally as I began climbing over multiple buckets of water and flowers to get to the bucket that held a bouquet with at least six hue-free white roses. It was difficult to bend down into an awkward looking squat before bending over to pick out the flowers so that I wouldn't be messing up the flowers in the surrounding buckets. I wasn't too sure of how the owner of this shop would feel about me plucking flowers from a previously arranged bouquet, but I wasn't too sure whether or not I gave a shit or not either.
Or at least, that's what I liked to tell myself.
I was shot out of the small inkling of that state of mind when I heard the click of heels on the tiled floors along with hushed voices growing near. In a panicked state, I jumped up and raced out of the maze of buckets and just when I thought I was home free, my foot knocked one bucket over releasing a rush of water as flowers slid along the now wet floor—along with myself, naturally.
So pulling myself up to sit on my haunches, my pants being soaked in the puddle of water that—in my opinion seemed obscenely large for a bucket—now occupied the ground beneath me.
"Brady, sweetheart, what are you doing?"
Making my posture straight, and keeping my head held high, I met my boss' curious gaze with a small smile, "Well, Mrs. Cullen…eh…" Picking up one of the ruined white roses I'd found and holding it up for her to see, "the roses had a yellow hue, and so we were looking for other white roses and…yeah. So, I'll have to order some in, but don't worry, the bouquet will be ready for the wedding even if I have to make the bouquet myself." I assured as I stood and brushed random petals and leaves from my soiled black pants and white button-up.
"Are you alright?" The concerned looking blonde asked from behind my boss.
Rosalie Hale was by anyone's standards, drop dead gorgeous—and to others' standards, pure perfection. I was one of the people that thought she was perfect. From every golden strand of hair on her head, down to each painted toe-nail tucked away in her Christian Louboutin stilettos, Rosalie Hale screamed beauty. At the same time, every pore exuded power that made even the most confident of men bow down when she wanted them to. In short, she was the ideal woman, with a successful modeling career and two best selling romance novels under her belt with a third on the way; not to mention the numerous charity events that she'd put together to form the three centers for helping battered and abused women and helping them move forward with their lives. She was a force to be reckoned with, and honestly, she intimidated the hell out of me.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine, just wet." I muttered, dropping my gaze from hers.
She giggled before coming to gently place her hand on my shoulder and pull my gaze back to hers, "Stop worrying so much; you're doing an amazing job as my wedding planner. And besides, if you're not wet, then obviously something isn't right." She added with a wink, "Now, we're gonna go, and get you a towel so we can go and see how all the different arrangements look."
Once the actual meeting that we were all there for had begun and the florist began showing us her ideas for the arrangements using the flowers that Rosalie had requested. Doing my job was easy when the wife was decisive and cutthroat as this bride was, things went quick and there was no waffling between one choice or the other or whether or not she would settle for something that she didn't want, nor did she keep comments to herself. When a bride, or on some occasions the groom, didn't like something as much as she should, it didn't do anyone any favors and usually ended up having the blame pushed on me for not having the telepathic capability to read the person's mind to know that he or she didn't like it. But, when the person speaks up about their dislike or anything that they may have concerns about, I can change it to fit their vision.
"Well," I began as I closed the portfolio folder that had all the details and contracts from each vendor and what not and stood, trying to ignore the nasty feel of my still wet clothes, "now that this is done, the last thing is really to just decide on your wedding cake and the bachelor and bachelorette parties. The fitting for the wedding dress and the bridesmaid's dresses will be held in Forks once we get there. The groom and his men have already had their fitting and the suits are sealed away and waiting to be delivered."
"Alright, it seems as though I've got nothing to worry about." Rosalie smiled as she stood, her soon to be aunt-in-law stood with her, "Except for one thing."
"I'm sorry?"
"You seemed to have made a mistake and forgot to send one invitation." She informed me, digging into her purse before pulling out a white envelope and held it out.
Reaching for it, I jumped straight into the apologies for the mistake I'd seemed to have made, "I really thought that I'd sent out all of them, I'll just get an address for Mr. Ful-" I stopped short as I saw my name engraved in black on the envelope.
"Of course, you don't necessarily need to read the invitation to know the details, but just know that that invitation is a plus one, and I do sincerely hope that you'll bring a special man along for the small three day vacation." She said with a small smile.
"Oh, thank you so much, but I really can't, I mean, I'll be wor-"
"Ah! Don't you worry about that! I've already called in for a small team to come in and take over for you so that you can enjoy the wedding and reception as well as the brunch on the day before." Esme Cullen spoke now with a smile that matched Rosalie's. "You've proved to me that your work is magnificent with this project as well as all of those before it, and Rosalie has taken a liking to you, so we'd love it if you had the chance to wind down and relax a bit. As our guest."
"Oh, thank you." I murmured, dropping my gaze back down to the envelope.
"So, do you have any idea who you might ask to come along?" Rosalie asked as we stepped out of the flower shop, a certain curiously gleeful edge in her voice.
"Uhm…"
"Oh, Rose dear, I'm sure our dear Brady has a boyfriend that would love to come along, right dear?"
Actually, no. I've been single for…well…a while. And my first thought when they'd mentioned a plus one was my best friend, Seth or maybe Collin. And if I knew one thing about my boss, it's that Esme Cullen likes to play matchmaker for her employees. While majority turned out successful, I had a bad past with set ups and preferred not to go down that route. So of course, the only solution here was to lie.
"Of course I do. I'll ask him right away."
"Oh, I should've just told her the truth and let her set me up with someone! Now what am I supposed to do? I can't just show up alone, and I don't want Seth to show up with me and have Esme think we're together. And then you said that you can't go with me! I mean, even if I was willing to say 'oh, yeah me and Seth are dating', he's not even my type! And we're both bottoms! What the hell kind of sex will I be having if my boyfriend likes to have a dick shoved up his ass too?"
Embry Call listened to the rant with an amused smile as he sat alone in a corner table of a coffee shop that he liked to stop by every now and then after a long day at work. Brady had called him a little over thirty minutes ago asking him if he would go with him for a three day weekend. As much as Embry would've loved to take a break from work and go with him, he just couldn't. He was in the middle of an important trial at work and had to stay to run through the evidence and statements before the first day of trial came around since the request for dismissal had been denied.
"Brady, do you trust me?" He asked seriously after he listened for a moment longer, struck by a brilliant idea.
"Of course I do, Bry. Why else would I have called to ask for your legal wised mind for advice?"
"Then I'll get a guy for you. Alright?"
"Er…okay?"
"Alright then, I'll call you tomorrow." And with that he hung up before running through his contacts until he found the number that he'd been looking for.
He listened to the ringing tone for a few seconds before the even, calm, sultry voice answered with a cool, "Embry, how are you dear?"
"I'm as good as you remember, Tannya."
"Hm, I'm sure. To what do I owe the pleasure? I don't remember needing any legal help as of late."
"Ah," He smiled and cleared his throat for a bit of time before stating simply, "well, I'm calling to ask for your services…or rather…the services that only the Denali business can provide for me."
"Oh, really?" She sounded excited, only breaking her cool façade to show that bit of excitement, "So you've finally decided to come to me for some company, have you?"
"We'll discuss the details when I meet you at the office. It's still early enough for that, right?" Embry asked, jerking his arm to tug his sleeve back enough to check his watch. It was barely six thirty seven.
"For you darling, of course it is. You remember how to get to the offices, don't you?"
"Of course; I'll see you soon Ms. Denali." He tried for that cool tone that she had given to him and anyone she'd ever talked to, but it didn't work out. If Embry was anything, he certainly wasn't cold. He was one of the most kind people that practically everyone he knew would tell you that much.
"Looking forward to it, Mr. Call."
A/N: Alright! SO yea…continue worthy or what? Aha how do y'all feel about this? Ahaha lemme know with a review!
Notoriously Yours,
GoinnGaGa
Working on Lollipop Luxury next!