"We start with the guest list. I see you had invited 400 people to the first wedding. Is that an accurate count for the second?" Regina Mills sat in her office across from Emma Swan, looking over a huge file of information labeled 'Jones-Swan'.
"Uh, I don't know, probably should ask mom about that," Emma worried her lips and focused all of her attention, not on her wedding planning or the wedding planner, who was eyeing her in subtle disbelief, but on her hair.
"Ms. Swan," Regina swallowed and removed her reading glasses, already letting her exasperation show. "You have responded to every question I've asked you by telling me I should default to your mother."
"So?" Emma dropped the ends of her hair, putting an end to her hunt for split ends and wiggled uncomfortably in her seat. She lost focus a moment later and stared off toward the window to watch the leaves blowing on the trees.
"So, this is your wedding that I am helping you plan, not your mother's, in case that trivial fact has escaped the limits of your mental grasp," Regina sighed inwardly. She had worked with brides who were far too anal and needed complete control and approval over every rose stem and she'd worked with sensible, but nervous brides who whose fright caused indecision, but never had she had a client who seemed so completely disinterested in planning her own wedding.
"Look, lady, I appreciate that my mom hired you to do the planning as your job title is, Wedding Planner," Emma showcased her point by holding up the free standing plaque on the edge of the desk. It did indeed read "Regina Mills: Wedding Planner."
"You're not giving me much to go on," Regina replied, crossing her legs under the desk and taking a moment to look up from the flurry of papers that held the names of for the massive guest list, and examine the seemingly reluctant bride to be.
"This wedding isn't for me, it's for my mother. She's the one who insisted having the stupid thing at Disneyworld, but when the hurricane swept through on the day of, I thought I was off the hook," Emma said with a disgusted look of nostalgia upon her normally placid and bored looking face.
It was true that Regina was the best wedding planner on the east coast and thus why she was hired by Emma's mother to pull together a new wedding with a date less than a month out, after the first wedding had to be canceled due to unfortunate weather.
The most important aspect of her job was making sure that the couple to be married was getting the fairytale happily ever after that they wanted. Emma seemed intent on making that aspect incredibly difficult. What was she to do with a bride whose wedding wishes were in direct opposition to her mother's?
"I want to know what you want out of this wedding, Ms. Swan," Regina leaned forward and tapped her fingertips on the desk. "I can't plan anything if I have nothing to go on."
Emma had the audacity to roll her eyes at Regina Mills, "Look lady, I know my mom is paying you a shit ton to do this for her, I mean us, so just do what you do. I read your website; nice headshot, by the way. You bill yourself as some wedding fairy godmother miracle worker."
Regina didn't know whether to feel offended or impressed. She leaned toward offended as a default.
"Make no mistake; I am fully confident in my abilities. I've planned huge glamourous affairs on a shoe string budget and little time, but I've never had a bride who didn't seem care at all about her wedding."
Emma sat back and scowled at the dark haired woman across from her, they locked eyes and entered some sort of staring match that seemed to cement their conflict and create an even larger impasse at working together.
"Can we please just get this meeting over with?" Emma swiped a hand through her hair and looked overly exhausted and so done in Regina's opinion.
"Perhaps we should start over at another time when you're feeling…more in the mood?" Regina asked gingerly. She wanted to yell at this obstinate woman in front of her, or slap some sense into her. Truly, she wanted to know why Emma seemed so indifferent about her own wedding. Marriage wasn't something a person entered into lightly.
"No, no, the last thing I want to do is go through this again," Emma shook her head and sat up a bit in her seat. "Just ask your questions and I'll try to answer, but just realize that my mom is gonna come in and change everything anyway."
Regina tucked her chin and refrained from commenting. She tried a new tactic, "Would you care for a drink, Ms. Swan? Some of my clients find that a glass of wine makes the whole process more fun."
"Got anything stronger?" Emma asked pointedly.
"I do," Regina pushed her chair back and crossed the office; she poured two large tumblers of full of amber liquid and sat them both on the desk. "My homemade cider…I think you'll quite like it. In fact, some of my clients have enjoyed it so much they've used it for the wedding toasts instead of the traditional champagne."
Emma shrugged and picked up her glass, she sniffed it and then took a long swallow. To Regina's eyes she was barely tasting her precious creation, let alone savoring it like it deserved. She held her tongue.
"Okay, so guest list?" Emma asked with her fingers firmly locked around the glass. She even managed a smile.
"One of the first questions I need to ask is rather personal, and involves family dynamics," Regina took a small sip of her own cider and nodded in approval as Emma took a second smaller drink from her glass. She seemed to be enjoying it. "Every family has tension, so with 400 guests when planning the seating arrangement for the wedding and reception I try to be sensitive to any incompatible guests."
"Right, you don't want some old family drama/ blood feud rearing up and causing a scene just because you accidentally sat Uncle Ernie next to Cousin Duke…that sorta thing?" Emma said, lifting her eyebrows in understanding.
"Precisely, Ms. Swan," Regina smiled genuinely, feeling like they were getting somewhere. She twisted the guest list and pushed it toward Emma. "Please spend a moment and read through the list, place a red check mark by anyone who individually or in a group setting might be a red flag."
Emma swished her cider around in her glass and studied the list. She picked up the pen and checked off one of the names, "Uncle Leroy has a bad drinking problem."
"We'll keep him away from the bar then," Regina clasped her hands. Drunken relatives were easy enough to control.
"And um…" Emma gulped and her voice broke down into a whisper, "there's a problem with my maid of honor…but my mom doesn't know."
"What sort of problem?" Regina tilted her head intrigued; usually the bride picked her closest friends or family for the bridal party. In the past she'd dealt with issues with attention seeking or overly horny bridesmaids who tried to sleep with the banquet staff at the reception, (or in one case the priest), but those kind of problems never appeared in the early planning stages.
"Lily…my mom asked her to be my maid of honor and she accepted only because my mom is gonna pay her to do it, but she's not really someone I want to be there," Emma spoke in stilted sentences, her discomfort obvious. "I don't have many friends for the job though."
"Why don't you want Lily as your maid of honor?" Regina asked in a quiet curious tone, the expression on Emma's face made worried her.
"I shouldn't be telling you this…never mind. Its fine," Emma sat back and went silent.
Regina waited for a moment; she blinked and felt the start of a headache thrumming in her temples.
"Let me explain something to you, Ms. Swan. As your wedding planner I need to know everything. Things you tell me are strictly confidential and I won't share anything with your mother that you don't want shared. Think of me as a problem solver. I am willing to manage every aspect of your wedding down to the smallest detail, so if you want this process to go swift and painless you're going to have to trust me."
Emma seemed to contemplate Regina's words and her posture shifted again. The breath seemed to leave her body in a long whoosh and when she looked up at Regina her green eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "My mom thinks that Lily was my roommate in college and for a few years after…Lily was never just my roommate. She was my girlfriend. Well, now she's my ex-girlfriend, and things didn't exactly end between us on good terms."
"Oh, and this Lily, she holds a grudge?" Regina was trying to process the information.
"Yeah, I mean I don't know why she'd agree to be my maid of honor. She and I don't talk anymore so when my mom told me she was in the wedding I didn't know what to say," Emma was starting to get worked up emotionally. Her face was turning red and her chin was quivering like she was about to cry. It was a huge emotional shift from the stoic blasé demeanor she had been sporting previously.
In fact, Regina noted somewhat curiously, her emotions over this Lily were a hundred times stronger than Emma had displayed about her fiancé: Mr. Killian Jones. She decided to take Emma's attention from Lily and remind her of why she was marrying the man she loved.
"What about your fiancé?" Regina interjected casually. The mention of Emma's future husband just made Emma get even redder and shake her head angrily. Regina passed her a box Kleenex and Emma blew her nose and wiped her leaking eyes.
"I don't want to talk about Kill…not right now," Emma pulled herself together a bit and lifted her almost drained glass of cider to her lips with shaking hands.
Regina took a hearty pull of her glass. She was beginning to see that this wedding was going to be far more difficult than she had initially thought. Regina did know a thing or two about overbearing mothers and reluctant brides.
"Does he have any quirks I should know about?" Regina dared to ask, and braced herself for Emma to get angry or shut down again.
"Like what?" Emma responded forlornly.
"I had a groom who was a secret crossdresser and the night before the wedding he decided to try on the wedding dress, ripped out 3 seams….anything like that?"
Emma chuckled at Regina's candidness. "You're kind of funny, actually."
"I can assure you finding a ruined dress on the morning of the wedding that smelled like Old Spice was no laughing matter." Regina stood up and silently took Emma's empty glass along with her own over to the decanter for a refill. She didn't usually drink on the job, but she was quite grateful she had a healthy stock of cider for this particular meeting.
"Kill is just I don't know, uh, a man?" Emma stated while Regina was still across the room. She could hear the resignation in her voice, and she thought she knew what Emma's real problem with this marriage was, but she didn't want to call her out. It really wasn't her place to suggest that the bride about to engage in a heterosexual wedding was clearly as gay as the day was long.
"You call your fiancé 'Kill'?" Regina lowered her voice and handed the newly full glass back to Emma. Usually, the family drama and guest list portion of the meeting would be wrapped up by now, but this just seemed to be the tip of the iceberg.
"Yeah, like a pet name…short for Killian," Emma brightened up with her new drink in hand.
"And what's his pet name for you?" Regina asked trying to keep the conversation light for a moment to avoid the bride crying again. She failed.
"Oh, he calls me 'Whale'," Emma said passively.
"Why is that, dear?" Regina rested her elbow on the desk and cradled her chin in her hand.
"Okay, well it's a long story, but my mom is all into animal charity stuff. So one night she dragged to this 'save the whales' fundraiser, and mom put me up in the bachelorette auction. Killian ended up being the highest bidder and he joked that he had saved a whale, by dating me."
Regina listened quietly, reserving judgment, which kept getting harder to do by the minute. She flitted through the wedding file, until she found the engagement pictures. Killian Jones looked roguishly handsome, with dark hair and a bad boy vibe. He was most definitely wearing makeup in the photo.
"You and Mr. Jones went on the charity date and found you had undeniable chemistry and you fell in love then?" Regina offered to bridge the gap between the whale date and why the woman was sitting there in front of a wedding planner.
"Sort of," Emma shrugged, and looked into the bottom of her glass. "My mom thought we were perfect together, so she kept arranging dates for us. He was really into me, and even though he's a slowly balding alcoholic who probably cheats on me with whores down at the docks, he's my balding alcoholic cheater."
"How sentimental," Regina scoffed. "And they say writing vows is so difficult."
Emma looked up, "Hey, you wanted me to tell you everything, so that's everything. I'm trusting you."
"That's not everything is it?" Regina prodded softly and searched Emma's eyes with her warm browns.
Emma sat still for a moment before she spoke in a rushed pained whisper, "You can't tell my mom that I'm gay. This wedding is going forward, because I can't—I can't break anyone else's heart. I won't. But forgive me if I'm not all into this wedding fancy fairytale shit."
Placing a palm over her mouth, Regina felt panic and fear run through her. She related wholly with what Emma was going through. "Can I tell you a story?"
"As long as it's not some bullshit about not being true to myself, because I don't want a hope speech from the wedding planner who looks all put together and organized. I mean of course, you're organized you plan things. You probably have a big house and a perfect marriage so don't tell me that it will all work out perfectly just like life has for you," Emma set her jaw and she was glaring across the desk.
"I'm not married. Not anymore," Regina started, unfazed by the anger seeping off the young blonde in waves. Emma lifted her chin slightly at the revelation. "My mother, Cora, she had this wedding planning business first. She wasn't doing very well, so she had an idea to marry me off to the richest most connected man she could find and make my big day all about publicity and networking to get her business off the ground. The man she insisted I marry was 65 years old and I was 18."
"You married an old perv so your mom could get kickbacks from florists?" Emma was on the edge of her seat.
"When you put it like that, yes," Regina shifted in discomfort. She had never told any of her clients her personal history, or how she ended up inheriting the wedding planning business from her late mother.
"But you got out of it?" Emma twisted her face; Regina shifted again sensing the other woman was picturing the less glamourous post-wedding life she and her husband had been privy to.
"He died. Of natural causes," Regina explained, her eyes shifting strangely toward the ceiling.
"But no love lost?" Emma prodded. "Ever wish you could go back and make a different decision?"
"I do," Regina admitted squeezing her eyes closed. She had held a grudge against her mother for so long that she forgot that there was still a life for her to live. "I had a high school sweetheart, but that was over when Mother intervened. I had political aspirations, but again that dream was crushed to dust. Any more questions, Ms. Swan?"
Emma sat back in her seat and sipped her cider in contemplation, her eyes going dark. "No, that about covers it. Thanks for telling me that, but my situation is totally different."
"How so?" Regina was eyeing her own almost empty glass and realized she wanted more, but if she had another glass her tongue would loosen father and that simply wouldn't do. She barely knew this woman. What if she was a blabbermouth like her insipid mother seemed to be? Regina couldn't have her reputation tarnished.
"I'm gay, and that isn't going to change. Everyone treats my fiancé like this untouchable perfect prince Killypoo magical being. If I left him now, I'd be disowned…lose my trust fund. No one would understand where I'm coming from."
"I'd understand," Regina reached across the desk and took Emma's hand before she could think better of the intimate gesture. Emma looked down at their joined fingers, and felt the engagement ring heavy and cool like a ball and chain."
Regina noticed and though they both stared at their hands, neither woman pulled away. She told herself she was just offering a client who was in a predicament a small bit of sympathy, an ear and a drink, but Regina felt much more invested in the plight of Ms. Swan than she was entirely comfortable with.
"Would your family reject you on the grounds that don't love Mr. Jones or on the principle that you're a lesbian?" Regina asked boldly. Some part of her enjoyed seeing Emma flinch, but she could tell that these feelings and thoughts were coming from deep within the woman and they needed to be let out.
"What, are you supposed to be my therapist too?" Emma managed a weak chuckle.
"I'm not telling you what to do by any means. If you want the big grand wedding with anchor shaped centerpieces that read 'congratulations 'Mr.& Mrs. Killypoo Jones' then I will simply do my job, and leave you to it. Just let me know because my fee deposit is non-refundable."
Emma looked up at the clock and sighed. Regina could tell that she had pushed her enough for a first meeting, and while most brides became emotional during different stages of the planning, it was mostly with happy tears, not ice cold feet.
"I think I had better go. I'm going through with the whole chartered yacht cruise wedding because that's what a good daughter…and wife does," Emma said with a forlorn but resolute tone that made Regina's heart ache.
"I see, dear."
Emma stood up, finished off her cider, and placed the glass on the desk. "Really whatever you come up with is fine, I don't think we need to meet and at least now you know why I don't care so much about all this."
"I do, but I think you should seriously think about what you want, not your mother, and not your fiancé. I know you want more than just something safe for the picture frame," Regina stood to escort Emma to the door.
"Thanks, Regina," Emma nodded and eyed her sincerely. "I'll text you about the dress shopping. I know that's one thing I can't get out of."
"You can call me anytime day or night, regarding the wedding or anything else…" Regina blurted and then stopped in her tracks. She was not the kind of woman who blurted anything. She'd made a vow to never give clients permission to call her outside of business hours.
She'd made that mistake once before and had had to listen to every petty thing running the gamut from what color nail polish the wedding party should wear to brides on a guilt and alcohol induced crying jag the night of their bachelorette party who were drunk and accidentally blew a stripper.
….
Regina went back to work, but her mind was fixated on Ms. Swan. Nonetheless, she started going through her organizer to proceed with the wedding. Because the first wedding had to be canceled and rescheduled quite a few things were already in place and retained.
The caterer was no longer available for the date and Regina had to find a yacht that could accommodate 400 guests for 8 hours, but other than that the wedding really wouldn't be so difficult to plan. Her schedule was clear as her other weddings were at least a year out, so she had the whole short month to bring together the Swan-Jones wedding.
As she looked through the various engagement pictures, she could detect a detached sadness in the bride to be's eyes now that she knew the situation. She never looked at her own wedding pictures, but suspected if she were to look the expression of her younger self would be quite similar.
She decided to call it a night at 5 O'clock on Friday and retire to the bar down the street for a glass of wine and a light dinner before heading home. Just as she turned off the lights in her office and was about to exit her desk phone rang. She thought about letting it go to voicemail, but if it was something pressing she didn't want to put it off all weekend.
When she quickly crossed back to her desk she was surprised to recognize the voice of none other than Emma Swan on the line. Judging by her slurred speech pattern and background noise she was drunk at a bar.
"What can I help you with, Ms. Swan?" Regina didn't mean to sound irritated, she actually didn't mind hearing from Emma. She chalked it up to a good sign and felt more confident that the talk they'd had that morning had opened up their line of communication.
"I've been thinking…" Emma drawled.
"Thinking or drinking?" Regina smiled softly when she heard the other woman try to stifle a hiccup.
"Bit of both actually," Emma admitted with a swell of embarrassment ebbing into her voice. "Are you busy?"
20 minutes later Regina was sitting across from Emma at the bar of some dank dive that left up to her would not have been her 1st or 20th choice as a meeting and drinking establishment.
"Why are we here?" Regina hesitated in setting her purse on the peanut shell and beer covered bar top.
Emma shrugged dismissively, "Drink, talk, you know…."
"No, I'm quite certain I don't. Please enlighten me. Did you wish to discuss your upcoming nuptials?" Regina acted put out, but sharing a drink or two on a Friday night with this somewhat obnoxious yet endearing woman was better than drinking by herself. At least she was entertaining.
"You want a beer? No, you probably want a fancy drink like a martini or a whiskey on the rocks…top shelf for a classy thing like you," Emma was looking Regina up and down as if her secret drink order was tattooed on her chest or her legs…judging by Ms. Swan's roving eyes.
"I'll have red sangria," Regina ordered directly to the bartender when Emma flagged him down. "Emma, do you mind if we move to the patio. I can't even hear you in here. I can get my folder and we can go over decorations or dresses."
"I'll have sangria too," Emma asked and smirked at Regina. "So I was totally wrong about your drink order. Guess this round is on me."
Regina narrowed her eyes and asked, "Any other presumptions you make about me I can assure you are false as well."
At that, she rose from the bar stool, clutched her bag and drink as it appeared on the bar and made her way outside without seeing if Emma would follow. She knew she would and she did. It was a subtle power play, but it worked regardless.
Emma nervously pulled out the patio chair for Regina and wiped her sweaty palms. They sat down on the same side of the round table so the overarching umbrella shaded their eyes from the sun, as a result Emma's knee bumped against Regina's.
"You have me here now what do you want?" Regina sipped her sangria and felt herself relax just a bit. She was always keeping mental to do lists, but this meeting seemingly had nothing to do with work. For the first time she felt relieved of stress, except for the particular and maddening brand that Emma was providing her. She bit her lip to keep from asking anything else.
"Tell me some more wedding stories, please?" Emma asked simply. The sun was highlighting her golden hair, and the warm gentle breeze was blowing it around her face in a way that made Regina realize Ms. Swan's beauty.
She felt a pang for her. She was young and gorgeous and marrying into a loveless marriage that could only end in disaster and heartbreak. Regina felt Emma's knee against her own stocking clad one and a shiver from the contact raced up her spine.
"One time a banquet server spilled a full boat of beef gravy on the bride right before wedding pictures. That was a fun time," Regina started; if Emma wanted to hear about wedding disasters than she had plenty of stories.
"One time the wedding chapel was double-booked for a funeral, so we had half the place weeping over a dead man and the other half celebrating a marriage. Oh, and the bride walked down the aisle where incense was burning on each pew and dragged her wedding dress through ashes."
"Oh my God, that's horrible!" Emma laughed and smiled brightly for the first time since Regina had met her. If she realized her beauty before with the look of joy on her face she was absolutely gorgeous. Regina wanted to see that smile and hear that laugh again.
"Have you ever had to deal with a runaway bride?" Emma asked leaning closer in, her full attention turned on Regina.
"Not yet, but I might?" Regina inquired, wondering if Emma's drinking and thinking were about to lead to the decision that she was calling off the wedding after all.
"Nah, I just wondered how horrible it would be everyone involved. I just picture the lonesome groom driving off by himself in the car decorated with 'Just Married' signs," Emma seemed quite enticed by that idea.
"Emma, forgive me for asking this, but I can't help but wonder," Regina drew back slightly and frowned. She didn't want to disturb the relative light-hearted conversation they were having, but certain admissions had left her extremely curious. "Are you and your fiancé intimate? Do you enjoy sex with him?"
"Um, no…we've never been intimate," Emma leaned close to Regina's ear and whispered hotly, "or even fucked."
That word coming from Emma right next to her ear did something to Regina's body. She felt her belly do a flip and tingling warmth flooded her lower abdomen. Then Emma's next statement doused her like ice water, "He's wanted to…almost forced me to a few times, but since I turned a blind eye- or practically gave him my blessing to get from other women what I'm not wanting to give, he hasn't bothered me about it…as much."
Regina stiffened at that, which hit far too close to home. Her own much older husband had been the forcible type as well, and the admission made Regina stare blankly into space until she could get out of the mental experience and regain control of her emotions.
She swallowed thickly and Emma noticed the shift in her demeanor. "Hey, are you okay? I didn't mean to upset you."
Regina nodded softly and reached for her drink. She took another sip and became acutely aware of big green concerned eyes regarding her with worry. Emma placed her hand on Regina's arm and rubbed it gently. "Your old husband guy?"
Regina nodded tightly once and swallowed the tight lump in her throat that was preventing her from speaking.
"I'm sorry… I wouldn't sleep with Kill now anyway, I'm afraid I'd catch something. Aren't I just painting the picture of romantic innocent love?" Emma tried to laugh again but the sound died in her throat.
"Do you live with Killian?" Regina wondered; her brow furrowed in concern that Emma was being forced into physical contact she didn't desire.
"Uh, yeah, but he spends all his time on his boat house, so technically I have a big blue house with a white picket fence all to myself. Mom and dad bought it for us as an engagement present."
"Killian is wealthy on his own making?" Regina was finding it more difficult to understand why Emma didn't just dump the fellow and find someone who she actually wanted to be with and who wanted to be with her.
"He runs this shipping company, thinks he's a big shot. I don't care about his money, Regina, if that's what you think... this is," Emma added solemnly.
"Well, to be honest, dear I don't know what to think. You tell me you're gay, you don't love this alcoholic womanizer you're about to marry, but want to go through with the wedding to please your mother?"
"Yes…" Emma hissed coldly. "Things could be worse."
Regina licked her lips and fought off the urge to wrap Emma up in a hug. "Yes, they could, but things could also be much better."
Emma seemed to shake off the deep line of their conversation, and her demeanor changed. "Shit, we should probably do something wedding related since I'm taking up all your time. My mom is paying you for billable hours, which I guess our little chat qualifies as."
"Emma, I wasn't planning on sending an invoice for drinks at the bar…" Regina tried to defend herself. She wasn't someone whose time was bought like this, and she didn't want Emma to think that their relationship as strictly business.
"Would it freak you out if I told you you're the closest person I've had as a friend in years?" Emma was closing in again and Regina swore she was staring at her lips. The heating sensation was creeping up over her again, and she jerked her seat backward and stood up suddenly. This was getting inappropriate, but Regina didn't blame Emma.
In her line of work meeting eligible dating partners was never an option, and she never dated vendors that she worked with as she didn't want things to be personal and affect a client's wedding. She'd heard horror stories from colleagues in her field who had had a relationship go sour with a baker and when a wedding day came the cake didn't. It was in the interest of everyone to keep things professional, and Regina, being a lonely woman, recognized a kindred spirit in Emma.
"I think I had better go, I'll see you soon, with your mother for dress shopping," Regina abruptly stood and walked away, giving Emma a casual wave over her shoulder. "Thanks for the drink."