The Wedding At Home

Chapter 1

If you asked someone in my company what they thought of me they'd, first of all, look around nervously to make sure my impending shadow wasn't darkening any doorways. Then they'd launch into the longest tirade about how much of a control freak I am. Like, okay, we get that I have OCD. But, dammit, was it really necessary for me to insist that the flowers were precisely ballet slipper pink instead of bubblegum pink? Or that each bouquet lining the aisle had no more and no less than 17 flowers? God. I am such a bossy boots.

If you haven't guessed, I'm a celebrity wedding planner. Well, I'm actually an event planner but 99.99 (recurring)% of the events I coordinate and plan are weddings, anyway. I still call myself an event planner, though. Why? I guess I'm still in denial that celebrities pay me astronomical sums to plan their weddings to some other celebrity who they'll probably divorce within a year. This is because I hate weddings. This is because I think love is stupid. Also, Bridezillas make life a living hell.

And all right. I'm a little bit bossy. And a tiny bit of a control freak. Maybe. And sometimes my OCD flares out of control a little. But you can blame that (the OCD, I mean) on my turbulent upbringing (courtesy of my Mother). But other than that I'm just your average celebrity event planner, really. There isn't a lot to say about me. I'm twenty four; my birthday's the twenty ninth of December and I prefer dogs to cats. What else is there to know?

The me right now, however, is a pleasant change from the me back then. Seriously, though. Hard to believe, right?

"Ms. Huntington? It's your Dad," Debbie, my PA, says in her quiet voice, holding the phone out to me.

I rub my temples. Don't get me wrong, I love my Dad and all, but it's just that every time he calls he's begging me to come back 'home'. And I really, really hate going 'home'. For one thing, it reminds me too much of my Mother and my arduous High School years. If you were wondering, I was tormented everyday for the good part of my schooling career. Notably by Toni Olsen. God, she was such a cow. Sure, it was all fun and games for Luke. He was the quarterback-basketball player-straight A student not to mention total God. I on the other hand, was the hugest dork. And I had a huge crush on Will, my brother's best friend. I had myself convinced that if only Will could look past the covering of acne that plagued my face, my frizzy hair and my four inch thick glasses, he'd totally date me. But alas, came the Sadie Hawkins dance where I finally summoned the courage to ask him, he shot me down within two seconds flat, his voice sounding all weird, like he was trying to constrain his laughter or something. He didn't even look at me (his back was turned) and he was too busy with Toni, who was probably seducing him.

But I'm over High School anyway. I can 100% honestly say that I've moved on. I'm pretty much over my mother, too. But I'm in the middle of doing Jessica and Justin's wedding. They're renewing their vows in a year's time and everything has to be flawless.

"Cass? Hello?" Dad's rich, warm voice fills my ear and I am reminded of how nice it is to talk to him. I miss him. I miss being with him.

"Dad! Hey! How are you? How's Luke?"

Oh yeah, Luke is my older-by-two-years brother and he's like, the best. He can be too protective though and I had to hide my High School ordeal from him to stop him like, killing those girls and guys who made my schooling career so... enjoyable. Not to mention his best friend, Will. Ha.

Unlike me, he stayed back at home with Dad and got into the family business- and as humble as that sounds, it is far from it. Dad's business is a multimillion dollar chain of hotels and since Luke's been there, the company is venturing into department stores or something.

"I'm good, I'm good." He says dismissively. "Luke's getting married."

Wait. What?

I say this to Dad and he laughs. "Luke's getting married! To this lovely girl called Antonia!"