Shopaholic Ties the Knot
“Well—”
“Have you ever done it before?”
“No, but—”
“A lot of girls think your way,” says Robyn, nodding. “Do you know who those girls are?”
“Um—”
“They’re the girls who end up weeping into their wedding cake, because they’re too stressed out to enjoy the fun! Do you want to be those girls?”
“No!” I say in alarm.
“Right! Of course you don’t!” She sits back, looking like a teacher whose class has finally cracked two plus two. “Rebecca, I will take that strain off you. I will take on the headaches, the hard work, the sheer stress of the situation… Ah, here’s the champagne!”
Maybe she has got a point, I think as a waiter pours champagne into three flutes. Maybe it would be a good idea to get a little extra help. Although how exactly she’ll coordinate with Mum…
“I will become your best friend, Becky,” Robyn’s saying, beaming at me. “By the time of your wedding, I’ll know you better than your best friend does. People call my methods unorthodox; they say I get too close. But when they see the results…”
“Robyn is unparalleled in this city,” says Elinor, taking a sip of champagne, and Robyn gives a modest smile.
“So let’s start with the basics,” she says, and takes out a large, leather-bound notebook. “The wedding’s on June 22nd…”
“Yes.”
“Rebecca and Luke…”
“Yes.”
“At the Plaza Hotel…”
“What?” I stare at her. “No, that’s not—”
“I’m taking it that both the ceremony and reception will take place there?” She looks up at Elinor.
“I think so,” says Elinor, nodding. “Much easier that way.”
“Excuse me—”
“So — the ceremony in the Terrace Room?” She scribbles for a moment. “And then the reception in the Ballroom. Lovely. And how many?”
“Wait a minute!” I say, planting a hand on her notebook. “What are you talking about?”
“Your wedding,” says Elinor. “To my son.”
“At the Plaza Hotel,” says Robyn with a beam. “I don’t need to tell you how lucky you are, getting the date you wanted! Luckily it was a client of mine who made the cancellation, so I was able to snap it right up for you then and there…”
“I’m not getting married at the Plaza Hotel!”
Robyn looks sharply at Elinor, concern creasing her brow. “I thought you’d spoken to John Ferguson?”
“I have,” replies Elinor crisply. “I spoke with him yesterday.”
“Good! Because as you know, we’re on a very tight schedule. A Plaza wedding in less than five months? There are some wedding planners who would simply say, impossible! I am not that wedding planner. I did a wedding once in three days. Three days! Of course, that was on a beach, so it was a little different—”
“What do you mean, the Plaza’s booked?” I turn in my chair. “Elinor, we’re getting married in Oxshott. You know we are.”
“Oxshott?” Robyn wrinkles her brow. “I don’t know it. Is it upstate?”
“Some provisional arrangements have been made,” says Elinor dismissively. “They can easily be cancelled.”
“They’re not provisional!” I stare at Elinor in fury. “And they can’t be cancelled!”
“You know, I sense some tension here,” says Robyn brightly. “So I’ll just go make a few calls…” She picks up her mobile and moves off to the side of the restaurant, and Elinor and I are left glaring at each other.
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Elinor, I’m not getting married in New York. I’m getting married at home. Mum’s already started organizing it. You know she has!”
“You are not getting married in some unknown backyard in England,” says Elinor crisply. “Do you know who Luke is? Do you know who I am?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“For someone with a modicum of intelligence, you’re very naive.” Elinor takes a sip of champagne. “This is the most important social event in all our lives. It must be done properly. Lavishly. The Plaza is unsurpassed for weddings. You must be aware of that.”
“But Mum’s already started planning!”
“Then she can stop planning. Rebecca, your mother will be grateful to have the wedding taken off her hands. It goes without saying, I will fund the entire event. She can attend as a guest.”