Beach Wedding Read Online Free

don’t know
where I am most days until after lunch and a pack of Jammie Dodgers.”
    “Quite.” Marcie steps forward and shakes my hand. “Glad
you could make it. We’re all excited to hear your thoughts.
Would you mind signing these NDAs before we begin?”
    “What?”
    “Non-disclosures. Confidentiality, you understand.”
Marcie presents Theo and me with a ten-page document of dense legal
jargon. I hate signing anything I haven’t had a chance to read,
but Marcie taps her foot impatiently, so I scribble my name at the
bottom. “Perfect,” she declares, then steps aside for me
to meet the happy couple.
    Pixie kisses me on both cheeks. “I’m so excited!”
she beams.
    Clyde salutes. “I figure, you’ve got to get hitched, you
wanna do it right. Right, babe?”
    “Right.”
    “Well.” I blink, overwhelmed. “Let’s get
started.”
    We all sit down, and I pull out my sketchbook. “I think we can
give Pixie and Clyde a day worthy of ten TV specials,” I begin.
    Marcie’s eyes widen. “Oh, a multi-part show. I love it.
Ratings will love it. That will make me love it even more. I like the
way you think.”
    I smile, even though I was exaggerating. I point to my pictures of
the Plaza all decked out in bows and glitzy finery. “We want to
go big, show-stopping. The wedding of the season. Pixie riding down
Fifth Avenue on a white horse; Clyde landing a helicopter on the
roof—”
    I’m interrupted by the PA returning with the drinks. “Here
you go,” she says meekly, offering Clyde his glass of milk, and
Pixie a noxious-looking green substance.
    Pixie curls her lip. “What is this?”
    “Your smoothie?” She shoots a nervous look at Marcie.
    “Oh. No. I meant I wanted a half spinach, half kale, half kiwi
smoothie. With the skin on. Twist of ginger. Dash of beetroot.
Vegan.” Pixie beams. “I’m really into saving the
animals now.”
    The poor PA is scrabbling to keep up. “Dash of what now?”
    Theo leaps up before Marcie can open her mouth. “You know what?
My favorite smoothie place is around the corner. I know the owner.
I’ll go grab your drink.”
    The PA looks relieved. She scurries after Theo out of the room.
    As the door shuts, Marcie presses her intercom. “Call the
recruitment agency, have them send someone new. And for god’s
sake, make sure this one isn’t a total idiot.”
    OK. Note to self: don’t annoy Marcie. I clear my throat,
awkward. Clyde winks at me again and asks, “Now, where were we?
Talking about getting hitched, yeah,”
    “Yes.” Marcie nods. “Continue!”
    I turn back to my book. “Like I was saying, the Plaza. Classic
New York wedding with a rock-n-roll twist.”
    Marcie makes a humming noise. “We hadn’t decided on a
location just yet.”
    I’m one step ahead. “Of course.” I flip the page.
“That’s why I have a number of alternate options. How
about Vegas?” I suggest, showing them a big collage of flashy
Vegas finery: the fountains at the Bellagio, the Strip all lit up.
“You could combine a big bachelor and bachelorette weekend with
the wedding. Break the world record for the number of Elvis
impersonators performing the ceremony.”
    Marcie makes that noise again. I flip the page.
    “Malibu cliff-top ceremony!”
    “Hmmm…”
    “On the walkway at the Grand Canyon.”
    A sigh.
    “On a yacht in the South of France!”
    They’re giving me nothing. Pixie looks wistfully out the
window, while Clyde picks dirt out from under his nails.
    “Is there anything you had in mind?” I ask, getting
desperate. Usually by now, my clients have told me half-a-dozen
requests, and my challenge is incorporating them all into one
ceremony. But these guys? They’re blank. “Take a look,
see if anything sparks.” I pass my book to Pixie.
    Marcie leans in. “To tell the truth, we’re rethinking the
whole ‘big wedding’ thing. Turns out we had a bit of a
backlash last season, when they were installing gold-plated toilets
in the mansion? Apparently,