Wedding Planner's Golden Rule: Don't fall in love with the groom.
Handsome, charming, billionaire playboy, Aiden Carlisle's wedding to beautiful, but demanding Caroline Baxter is set to be the event of the century.
Sweet, smart and talented, Rosalie...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Chateau always looked grand during events.
I stood at the bar waiting for my drinks and popped a few peanuts into my mouth.
I picked up a napkin and wiped my hands.
"Whoa, who is that?" the man next to me asked of his friend, "That's the sort of talent I came here for."
I turned my head in the direction that they were looking.
Both men were looking at the entrance to the grand hall. There stood, in the middle of the open doors, dressed in a ravishing red dress, Rosalie Darling.
"That's Rosalie Darling," the first man's friend said, "She's the top wedding planner in town; maybe the whole state."
Rosalie looked around the room, still standing at the entrance, marveling at the magnificence of it all. Then, she glanced around, smiling at the people she knew.
"Oh, she's a darling, alright," the man next to me, nodded, sipping his scotch.
"Yeah, no way you're getting anywhere near her," the other man told him, laughing.
"Why?" the first man, with dark blonde hair asked.
"Let's just say, rumour has it that she's got standards and you definitely don't meet them," his friend said and they both laughed and walked off, their gazes lingering on Rosalie.
I looked back at her. She was admiring the room, as she so often tended to do on entry to a new place. She was wearing a sparkly red dress, which was off the shoulder and highlighted her clavicle. The dress had a slit that ran to the ground from her mid-thigh, exposing her skin. Her hair was loose and cascaded down her shoulders. It was fitted to her form, showing off her curves and slim waist. There was no trace of artificial colour on her face, just her natural blush, save for the deep burgundy stain on her lips.
She was a thing of beauty.
She was the belle of the ball.
All eyes were on her as she smiled.
I had made a promise to myself that I wouldn't lose it, no matter how good Rosalie looked tonight because she wanted to keep what we had private for now. Seeing her, standing there, being admired by everyone in the room, made the feelings that I had for her, rush back to the surface, making me catch my breath at her beauty. My heart raced at the thought of her and I just wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked
I watched as she crossed the room and made her way over to some of the design tycoons in the city. They welcomed her happily into their conversations, commenting about her appearance, making her glance at the floor and blush.
She listened to their conversations and smiled at them and laughed when something funny was said.
I wanted to go over to the singer, grab the microphone from her and tell everyone that Rosalie was mine, but I wanted to respect her wishes, so I said nothing.
