Beach Wedding Page 4

  “Hangry?” I echo, confused.

  “Sure, like hungry plus angry. I can be a real beast,” she says, her blue eyes shining sweetly.

  I laugh. “I don’t believe that.”

  Clyde leans over. “She’s not pulling your leg. One time, she was trying a new cleanse, and got so angry she shaved my moustache off in the middle of the night.” He sadly rubs the place it used to be. “It was getting right full and bushy too. Real manly.”

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” she coos, rubbing his arm. “You know I can’t control myself without calories.” Pixie gives me a discreet wink, and I have to snort to hide my laughter. Maybe she’s not so spacey after all.

  “I think my aunts have some snacks.” I suggest, “They’re over by the doors. I can go—”

  “No, it’s OK, I will!” Pixie leaps up. “Thanks babe.”

  Marcie shoves her way along the row. “Can you freaking believe this place?” she says loudly. “It’s like central casting dreamed the whole place up. Hippie yokels for miles. Somebody already invited me for pie!” She has a horrified expression on her face.

  I laugh. “Old guy in a Hawaiian shirt, right?”

  “Yes.” Marcie looks around. “Is he the town creeper or something?”

  “No! That’s just Eddie, he runs the pie shop. Best key lime on the coast. You have to try a slice.”

  Marcie shudders. “Carbs.”

  “Your loss!”

  I catch sight of a familiar face at the front of the room. “No way, they weren’t kidding.” It’s Wes, all grown up, wearing a sheriff’s uniform. He sees me, and does a double take.

  “Ginny!” He comes over and sweeps me in a hug. “What the hell, girl? We were beginning to think you were in exile.”

  “I can’t believe it! Look at you,” I stand back and shake my head. “They gave you a badge?”

  “And a gun.” Wes grins. “Don’t mess with the law in this town.”

  “Wow. Things really change.” I take it in. He’s still got the football player smile that drove all the girls crazy back in school, but his brown hair is thinning a little on top, and the uniform stretches a tightly over his gut.

  Wes pats it, satisfied. “That’s what a decade of home cooking’ll do for you. How long you sticking around? You’ll have to come over, meet Kate and the kids. She’s home with them tonight,” he adds. “Camille’s got the flu.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry. And I’m not sure how long I’ll be here. It depends on the permits, I think.”

  “Well, I’ll put in a good word for you with Hennessy.”

  I blink. “Wait, he’s not still mayor? But he was practically ancient when we were around.”

  Wes chuckles. “He’s hanging on in there. Sometimes we have to take a break if his hearing aid is acting up, but he’s still steering the ship. God help us all.”

  “Well, thanks,” I say. The room is pretty much full now, and I can tell they’re ready to get started. “I’ll see you after? We need to catch up.”

  “For sure.” Wes grins and shakes his head. “Little Ginny.”

  “Hey!” I protest.

  “It’s real good seeing you. Man, brings some memories back.” Wes walks to his seat by the front of the stage. I can’t help but glance around, wondering if Luke still comes to these meetings. My stomach twists in a nervous knot every time I think about coming face to face with him again after all this time. It’s foolish, I know. We’re both adults now, and there’s a decade of water under the bridge. But I still scan every face in the room for his familiar dirty blond hair and tanned smile.

  Marcie is watching when I return to our seats. “Well?” she demands. “You think we can swing the permits? There’s a little extra in the budget, you know. Just tell me the right palms to grease. Cash in an envelope, you know the drill.”

  “Marcie!” I shake my head. “That’s not how things work here.”

  She sighs. “Just great. Next thing you’ll be telling me, everyone gets a vote.”

  “That’s right,” I say, enjoying her reaction. “Two thirds majority on special town business. So try not to alienate everyone before we even start.”

  “You mean with my winning personality?” Marcie quirks an eyebrow.

  “Exactly. Act like you care about something more than ratings, and we’ll be fine.”

  Marcie gives me a long look, and I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. Then she gives me a rare smile. “You know, you’re not so bad.”

  “Gee, thanks!”

  “No, I meant half the wedding planners we met were all true love bullshit, but you get how the game is played.”

  I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, but before I can reply, everyone falls silent. Mayor Hennessy slowly climbs the steps up on stage, with the help of a cane and the old council secretary, Greta Nyberg. I can’t believe he’s still hanging in there—he must be in his eighties by now—but I guess nobody was willing to run against him.

  He bangs the gavel and clears his throat. “Welcome, everyone. It’s good to see you all, coming together again.” He coughs, and Greta discreetly takes the mike. “Let’s start with the order of business—”

  There’s the sound of a cell phone ringing. Loud. Everyone turns to look at us.

  “Sorry!” Marcie scrambles to turn it off. “There. All good. Continue!”

  I wait until Greta starts talking again, then I give her a look. “Way to make a good first impression.”

  Marcie is checking the screen, her thumbs moving as she types. “Sorry, business.”

  I sit back, enjoying the show. The meetings are just as odd as I remember. The first order of business is public nudity on Cypress Lane. Apparently, someone has been watering their lawn naked. Greta gives us all her stern librarian look over the top of her glasses.

  “Just because you’re on private property doesn’t mean pants are optional.”

  I stifle a giggle. Tell that to my aunts.

  “Moving on to a big piece of new business…” I feel Marcie straighten beside me, before Greta finishes. “Nominations for the Key Lime Queen at the Pelican Festival!”

  She sinks back. “Small towns,” she tuts under her breath.

  I smile. After years carrying a safety whistle every time I walk down my block at night, it’s kind of nice to be back in a place where the biggest worry is whether the bar on the beach is playing too much Bob Marley.

  “What about some Jimmy Buffett?” one of the residents pleads. “Anything, please!”

  “Let’s table a motion to form a committee on expanding Lenny’s playlist,” Greta decides. “All those in favor, raise your hand.” The room votes. “The ayes have it. Lenny, time to mix it up a little.”

  Lenny sulks in the front row. “You don’t have the groove, man.”

  I glance over at Pixie and Clyde to see how they’re taking the change of pace. Instead of being bored, they’re watching events, rapt, eating their Chex Mix like a night at the movies.

  Finally, Greta’s gaze turns to us. “And finally, we have a rather unusual request from one of our own. Ginny?”

  I startle. “Oh, no, Marcie here from the network—”

  A voice sounds from the back. “Is that little Ginny Austen? What’s she doing here?”

  “Come on,” Greta beckons. “Why don’t you come on up and tell everyone what this is all about?”

  I look helplessly at Marcie, but she just makes a shooing gesture. “You know this crowd better than me. Don’t screw it up!”

  Crap.

  I try to gather my thoughts as I head up onstage. Luckily, I’m used to turning on the powers of persuasion, whether it’s convincing an ornery farmer to loan us a herd of heifers for an engagement shoot, or making the fire marshal believe that a flock of white doves loose in the air vents doesn’t equal a safety hazard. If I can manage that, I can definitely pull this off.

  “Hi everyone,” I wave, and hear a chorus of ‘heys’ in response. “As you may have heard a time or ten from my aunts, I’m a wedding
planner now. I’ve got a pair of lovebirds who would just adore to get hitched right here in Pelican Key Cove.”

  I can hear my old accent slip out the longer I speak. I introduce Pixie and Clyde, and quickly fill everyone in on their TV show.

  “They fell in love with this place, and we all know why. This wedding could put our town on the map as a wonderful and romantic destination. The world will get to see what we grew up with: the sunrise on the eastern shore and the sunset on the west. The loveliness of the town square at dusk when the birds chirp and crickets greet the evening.” I really get into it, and I see plenty of friendly faces in the audience nodding along. Yes! This is going perfectly to plan. “The crews will be filming in town for just a couple of weeks, but I promise, you’ll hardly notice them at all.”

  “Is that right?” A voice comes loud from the back of the room. “Because it sounds to me like you want to turn this place into a zoo.”

  I squint, but I can’t make out who’s speaking. “We’ll keep disruption to a minimum,” I say carefully. “Yes, there’ll be more people around, what with crews on the show and guests in town for a wedding. But that could be a real boon for the local businesses: plenty more customers through the doors.”

  There’s a snort. “Trampling over the locals and expecting everything their own way. You may’ve forgotten, being gone so long, but this isn’t Hollywood. We like things quiet around here.”

  The agitator finally steps out of the shadows, and I swear, I forget how to breathe. It’s Luke Porter, all grown up and ten times as gorgeous as when I saw him last. He stands there, arms folded, his biceps straining at the casual blue T-shirt that brings out the cornflower shade of his eyes. He’s got sexy stubble and that same strong jaw, and even though his expression is steely and unreadable across the room, I have to grip hold of the edge of the podium to keep my balance.

  “Um.” I blink at him, feeling ten years melt away like no time at all. I’m right back in high school, that first day he smiled at me in the hallway and I dropped my folders all over the floor. The first time he asked me out and I practically floated all the way home.

  The first time he kissed me, and I thought it would be forever.

  I scramble to recover the power of speech. “I don’t… I mean…”

  Marcie quickly bobs out of her seat. “I can assure you all, this will be a classy, discreet production. We have no interest in painting the town in anything but the most positive light. We’re here to celebrate Pixie and Clyde, and their perfect love story. Don’t you want to be a part of that?” she urges the room, cheerful. “You strike me as a town that takes pride in their community. You could share that pride, and show the world that Pelican Key Claw is the home of real love, and the friendliest faces in all of Florida.”

  She’s so enthusiastic nobody notices her slip. The crowd turn back our way again, with nods and murmurs of agreement, but it’s all just a blur to me. I’m still focused on Luke, standing with his arms folded at the back of the room.

  Marcie continues working her charm. “Just think, getting to show off your hometown on national TV! Who gets a chance like that? You can show your grandkids how you gave this happy couple the most glorious wedding of their dreams. Let’s pass these permits and make it happen. All those in favor?”

  “Now wait a minute—” Greta tries to stop her, but Marcie’s got the crowd in the palm of her hand. There’s a loud chorus of ‘ayes’ and raised hands.

  Marcie beams. “Motion passes. The wedding is on!”

  Chapter Six

  Marcie is all smiles as we exit the meeting. She’s texting or emailing someone back in New York, talking a mile a minute about production schedules and location budget and extended filming. I’m still in a daze from Luke’s surprise appearance. I knew running into him was a possibility, but somehow, he still knocked me out.

  Why does he have to look so damn good?

  “Who’s that?” Nick/and/or/Neil asks, joining us on the steps.

  “Huh?” I blink.

  “The grumpy neighbor.” Nick nods to where Luke is chatting with Wes outside. “Let me guess, he’s the one yelling at kids to get off his lawn?”

  “I don’t know…” I say faintly. “I don’t really know him anymore.

  Marcie finally looks up from her phone. “We’ve got half an hour before we leave for the airport. Where do you get a drink in this town?”

  I take the whole gang to Lenny’s, a two-minute walk away. It’s the same divey beach bar, heavy on the Tiki theme, but they have cold beer on tap and the best fries in town.

  Marcie looks around suspiciously. “Do you have a cocktail list?” she asks the bartender.

  He smirks, and points to the driftwood sign above the bar.

  “There’s something for everyone, and that something is beer.”

  “Fine,” Marcie sighs. “Beer it is, all round.”

  We grab our drinks and head to a booth out on the beach patio. “To Pixie and Clyde,” Marcie toasts, “and their full season here in Pelican Coal Key!”

  “Wait, what?” I pause with the beer halfway to my mouth. “I thought this was just one episode.”

  “Haven’t you been listening?” Marcie rolls her eyes. “This is ratings gold. The town meetings, the mayor, the gazebo. We’re milking this baby for everything it’s worth. A month of filming, minimum.”

  “But we said it wouldn’t be a zoo,” I protest, worried.

  “Relax, I know what I’m doing. Besides, they don’t seem to mind getting a little Hollywood glamor in town.” Marcie nods to the corner. Clyde and Pixie have been mobbed by local fans, asking for autographs and posing for photos.

  I’m not convinced.

  “You got us in the door. I can take it from here.” Marcie sounds confident. “Just worry about the wedding plans, and I’ll manage the rest.”

  I take a sip of beer. I need it. A month in town with Luke Porter waiting around every corner. I won’t be able to avoid him, even if I try.

  I remember the cool look in his eyes back at the town meeting, and that unreadable expression. He might not have given his feelings away, but I’m guessing they’re not good.

  I don’t blame him. I high-tailed out of this place the night before graduation, and never even said goodbye. I never told him the reasons I was leaving. I can’t be surprised if he’s not rolling out the welcome wagon, ten years after I broke both our hearts.

  I force myself to put the painful memories aside. Everyone’s still clamoring to meet the celebrity couple, but I notice that Pixie has fallen back. She’s looking kind of lost in the midst of all the activity, so I grab her a drink and head over.

  “How are you holding up?” I ask sympathetically. “I’m guessing you didn’t expect your wedding to turn into a three-ring circus like this.”

  “Oh, it’s OK. I’m getting used to it by now.” She waves at Nick and Neil, who are skulking in the shadows with their camera equipment, filming.

  “That’s right,” I realize. “You must have been living like this for a few years now. I bet you know those guys pretty well.”

  Pixie giggles. “I don’t even notice them most of the time, is that weird? They just kind of blend into the background. They’ve seen me naked, like, a million times. They even came and shot an episode while I was at the gyno having my PAP smear.”

  “Wow.” I nod slowly. Pixie’s boundaries are way different to mine. “That’s… close all right. How does Clyde feel about it all?”

  “He’s super-great. He’s always had the paparazzi following him, and he loves the attention. He’s like a big dog, my Alsatian. Isn’t that right, Buster?” Pixie strokes her bulldog and beams fondly as Clyde signs a couple of aging fans’ chests.

  “Well, as long as you’re both on the same page…” I guess they really are a match made in heaven. “But remember, this is your wedding. I’m here to give you the day of your dreams, so don’t worry about Marcie and the network calling all the shots. I’ll make sure you get whatever yo
u want.”

  “Oh, I’m sure Marcie knows what’s best,” Pixie says brightly. “To tell the truth, I haven’t really thought about it all that much.”

  “Your wedding?” I’m surprised. Even the most laid-back bride has given it half a thought. After all, there’s a lot of room on the scale from ‘casual’ to ‘total Bridezilla’. “You must have some ideas of things you’d like. Music, maybe. Or colors and a theme.”

  Pixie shrugs. “Not really. That’s what you’re here for, right?”

  “Right,” I echo, still kind of confused. “Well, just let me know if you think of anything.”

  “Thanks, Ginny.” Pixie suddenly hugs me. “I knew you were the right pick. Buster had a good feeling about you, and he’s never wrong. Are you, babes?” Buster barks, and starts struggling in her arms. “You want to go walkies?” Pixie asks, “Let’s do it!”

  She takes off, heading for the water. She sets the dog down, and the two of them frolic in the surf. Clyde heads on out to meet them, and soon he’s spinning Pixie around while she shrieks with laughter.

  It’s sweet and innocent, and I can almost believe that this wedding might turn out to be a good thing – until I see Nick and Neil edging closer, rolling camera. Marcie loiters nearby, instructing them on the best shot. I wonder if Pixie and Clyde knew all along, and went out to give them good footage.

  So much for the reality in reality TV.

  By the time Pixie and Clyde wade out of the ocean, it’s getting late.

  “We’re going to head back now,” Marcie announces. “The couple are filming in New York in the morning.”

  “I think I’m going to stick around for a couple of days,” I tell her. Running out on my aunts as soon as I arrive would be plain rude, even if I’d love to just ride out of town without laying eyes on Luke again. “I can start scouting for vendors and wedding prep.”

  “Good plan,” Marcie nods. “I have meetings with the network in the morning. We’ll get a schedule and budget together, but I’ll need you working this exclusively for the next month at least. We’ll have a tight deadline to get this wrapped.”