The Maverick's Bridal Bargain Page 7

  In all of the weddings she’d planned, none of them had needed an athletic competition to decide who was going to head up the wedding party. Maybe Estelle had been right to warn her about doing cowboy weddings.

  And speaking of Estelle, Vivienne’s phone chimed with the distinctive ring tone she’d chosen for her boss—the whistle from the Hunger Games movie series—and she reached into her bag to switch the thing to vibrate. But not before Cole looked at her and saw what she was doing. She was tempted to turn it off completely, but she remembered the Daltons’ rule about phone accessibility and didn’t want to inadvertently offend anyone again.

  Vivienne slid the cell into the side compartment of her bag just as Cole walked toward her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yep. We should probably start cleaning up over here and get back to work,” Vivienne told him, but it was difficult to keep a neutral expression when her bag began vibrating.

  Cole tilted his head. “Maybe you should take that.”

  She bit back a retort that maybe he should mind his own business. After all, even she had to concede that it would appear beyond unprofessional to blatantly ignore her boss. “Excuse me,” she murmured to him before turning her back and sliding her finger across the screen to accept the call.

  “Hello?”

  “Have you scored us any more bookings out there in the backwoods?” Estelle’s gravelly voice was louder than ever, and Vivienne frantically searched for the button to turn down the volume on her earpiece before anyone could overhear.

  “Oh, hey there, Estelle. I’m, um, on-site for the Grant-Dalton wedding. Can I give you a call back later this afternoon?” Vivienne hoped the subtle statement would be enough to remind her boss that she wasn’t in a position to be talking about drumming up more business.

  But Estelle launched into her without regard for who was nearby. “You promised me you’d deliver another client by now, but instead you’re avoiding my calls and building barns on my dime. This is what happens when you don’t use one of our prearranged venues and decide to get creative.”

  “It’s an old train station, not a barn,” Vivienne said through a semi-clenched jaw. The depot was the closest building, so she headed in that direction for some quick privacy.

  “Is it a new client, though, or is it the same cattle rustlers you brought to the office last month?”

  “Estelle, you know that I’m doing my best—”

  “I know nothing of the sort. You’re over there in the latest marriage capital of Montana and you still can’t bring me another viable customer? I took a chance on you when you were a fresh-faced kid out of business school and I expected great things from you. I poured a lot of energy into training you, going out of my way to introduce you to vendors, putting my own reputation on the line every time you came up with some harebrained plan to do things different and trendy. At minimum, I would like a return on my investment.”

  Vivienne reached the front door of the depot right as the tears threatened to fill her eyes. “I assure you that I am working on several leads and—”

  “Leads aren’t good enough,” Estelle snapped. “I need results.”

  “And I’ll have results. Just give me another week.”

  “You have twenty-four hours to get another booking or you’re fired.”

  * * *

  Cole was probably the biggest jerk of all for following Vivienne inside when she so clearly was trying to avoid having anyone overhear her phone call. But she’d looked so concerned and nervous, which was completely opposite to the controlled and capable image she usually projected. As the newly appointed best man, his primary job was to ensure that this wedding went off without a hitch. And if that meant seeing to the wedding planner, then so be it.

  “You okay?” Cole asked her when she bit her cheeks, her eyes looking up, as though she was trying to decide how much to tell him.

  “I’m fine. I was just startled to see you in here, that’s all.”

  “Is that really all?” He cocked his head.

  She leaned against the old countertop and gave a nervous chuckle that caught in her throat. “So you heard all that, huh?”

  He nodded and she blew out a breath, causing one of the blond wavy locks that had escaped her ponytail to dance along her temple. “It sounded like you were in trouble with your boss.”

  “Trouble is an understatement. But it’s nothing for anyone else to worry about.”

  “Could this affect Zach and Lydia’s wedding?”

  Vivienne’s shoulders sagged and a look of defeat crossed her face. “I wish I could say it won’t, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to be fired. Which doesn’t necessarily mean that Lydia and Zach will be left in the lurch only three weeks before their wedding. Of course, they’ll still have their contract with the company and my boss will honor it. But then they will have to work directly with Estelle and I doubt that will be a smooth transition.”

  Cole searched her face for some sort of indication that would tell him whether or not the woman was fishy or dishonest or unethical. He doubted it, but if she was, it was better she hop in her little Jetta now and drive away. “You said about to be fired? Did you do something illegal or break some wedding etiquette rule or something?”

  “No!” Her hand flew to her chest, and a blush stole up her cheeks. “Nothing like that. It’s just that my boss wants me to book another client.”

  “Is that all?” Cole’s tension eased. “Then let’s go out and talk to my cousins. Every time I turn around, somebody in this town is getting married. I’m sure they’ll know someone else who might need a wedding planner.”

  Vivienne sighed. “I wish it were that easy.”

  “Seems simple enough to me.”

  “Weddings are very personal and special things, and a couple should be comfortable with whoever they choose to be involved. Estelle wants a contract signed tomorrow and, in good conscience, I couldn’t have someone rush into making that kind of commitment just to save my own job.”

  Cole studied her, one half of his brain telling him to keep his mouth shut before he said something stupid, the other half telling him that he was the only person who could fix this.

  “So just to clarify... You only need to book one client?”

  “For now, at least.”

  “For one wedding that can happen whenever?”

  Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Correct.”

  “Then plan mine.”

  Chapter Six

  Vivienne felt the flurry of emotions cross her face, the most prominent one being disgust because all she could think of was how he’d almost kissed her before the rest of his family had shown up. Vivienne had to flatten her palm against the worn countertop to keep from curling it into a fist. “You’re engaged?”

  “Of course I’m not engaged.” Cole visibly shuddered. “I’m not even boyfriend material, let alone husband material.”

  Confusion quickly replaced her anger and Vivienne could only stutter, “Wh-why?”

  “I guess because I have more important things going on in my life right now than to cozy up to some female I’m not interested in and pretend like I give a damn about all this commitment crap.”

  “No, I mean why would you need to plan a wedding if you’re not getting married?”

  “You said you need to book another client.” He rocked onto the heels of his boots. “Well, I’m your next client.”

  Vivienne shook her head as if she could jiggle all the scattered pieces of this puzzle into place. “A client who has no intention of getting married?”

  “Yes. But it’s not like your boss would know the difference.”

  “She might figure it out when no actual marriage takes place. If you’re not boyfriend material, then does that mean you don’t have a girlfriend? I mean, who would we say you’re marrying?”

  Okay, so that
first question Vivienne threw in for her own clarification. Even though they hadn’t exactly kissed, she needed reassurance that she wasn’t lusting over some guy who was off-limits.

  “Nope, no need for a girlfriend,” he said, and she felt some of her apprehension drain. But then he took a couple of steps closer. “We can make something up, but why would it even need to get that far? Look, you just need to buy yourself some time to bring in more business. So you sign me up or whatever you need to do to get your boss off your back, and then after you bring in some more customers—legitimate ones—my fake fiancée will have cold feet and we’ll call it off.”

  If her eyes squinted any more, they’d be squeezed shut. And then she’d miss his normal teasing smirk telling her that he was only kidding. But his jaw was locked into place and the set of his straight mouth looked dead serious.

  “It would never work.” She waved her hand at him, deciding one of them should try to write this whole conversation off as a joke.

  “Why can’t it?”

  “Estelle requires a contract. Like the kind that’s legally binding in a court of law.”

  “So I come into your office and sign the contract. There’s got to be a cancellation clause in there somewhere. You can’t tell me you guys have never had someone cancel their wedding before.”

  “There is. Which is why she demands a security deposit up front.”

  “What are we talking about? A hundred bucks? Two hundred? How do you get paid, anyway?”

  “Fifteen hundred,” Vivienne replied, then almost smiled as Cole’s eyes went round.

  “And only the bride and groom pay that?” he asked. “You don’t get any kickbacks from the florist or the minister or everyone?”

  “First of all, clergy members are only offered a small honorarium that they oftentimes donate to their house of worship. Second of all, do you think I’d take money from a minister?” She quickly put her hand up. “No. Don’t answer that. It’s not like I work off commission. We get paid for the amount of hours we spend working on your wedding. So if it’s going to be a big event, plan to pay for at least eighty hours of my time. Even if you and your pretend fiancée require the smaller, twenty-hour package, it’s still a hefty chunk of change.”

  “Right.” The man shrugged as if the pickup truck he drove wasn’t at least twenty years old. “I have some money saved up from when I was in the Marines. My dad didn’t want me dipping into my personal savings to invest in the ranch, since it’s supposed to be a family operation. It’s not like I have anything else I need to spend it on.”

  They stood there staring at each other across the counter. Vivienne racked her brain for another flaw to his ridiculous suggestion. But she felt completely empty—drained of all emotion and rational thought. And with his determined stance and squared shoulders, Cole didn’t seem to be the kind of man who backed down from anything.

  “Why would you do something for someone you barely know?”

  “I could give you a hundred reasons, from the fact that you haven’t once tried to sell my brother something he doesn’t need, to the fact that you’re hardworking and not afraid to jump in and get your hands dirty. But the bottom line is that this wedding is important to Zach and Lydia. I need it to go smoothly and I’m convinced that you’re the best person for the job.”

  Then why did Vivienne feel as if she was a complete fraud?

  * * *

  What Cole didn’t tell Vivienne was that it almost tore his heart out to see her hiding inside the train depot, fighting back those tears. So maybe he’d been a little impulsive when he’d made his offer yesterday. But once he’d put it out there, he knew there was no turning back. No backing down.

  Still, when he pulled up to her office the following morning, it took him a solid five minutes to convince himself that he could put on a courageous face and brave the feminine confines of Vivienne’s office again. It might’ve been a slight exaggeration when Cole had told his brother that the place reminded him of a war zone; however, he definitely felt like he was going into a battle he didn’t know how to fight.

  Before he got out of his truck, he looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror. He’d done the right thing, hadn’t he? A voice told him that if he was so convinced about what he was about to do, he would’ve mentioned something to his dad yesterday. Or even to Zach or Lydia. Yet he’d remained silent the remainder of the day, keeping to himself as the rest of his family followed Vivienne’s advice on everything from landscaping to repurposing old wood. Cole had been sure to avoid her, because he knew that if he allowed her to dwell on his plan, she’d try to talk him out of it.

  But what was he supposed to do? Let the woman get fired from her job? He grabbed his checkbook as he finally exited his truck. He wasn’t protecting her, he reminded himself for the hundredth time. He was doing this to help his brother and Lydia.

  Cole must’ve lingered in the parking lot too long, because before he could get to the entrance, Vivienne came sailing out the front door. “I was going to call you this morning to tell you not to come in. But then I realized I didn’t have your number.”

  “Is this morning a bad time?” he asked, looking around at the quiet storefront.

  “I talked it over with Lord Nibbles last night and we both decided that I couldn’t let you do this. It’s too much.”

  “Who?”

  “My guinea pig. The sound of my voice makes him less anxious, so we had a big discussion and I ran everything by him. When I told him I wasn’t going to go through with it, he finally relaxed enough to eat the pretzel I was offering him.”

  “You fed your guinea pig human food? Didn’t you hear the story yesterday about the 4-H goat and the cotton candy?”

  “It was just one little treat.” There was a crease between Vivienne’s brows. “You don’t think he’ll get sick, do you? He looked fine this morning.”

  Cole tightened his grip on the checkbook. Maybe it was a bad idea to go into business with a woman who took job advice from a rodent. But then again, it wasn’t really as if she was actually going to be working for him. The money was just to keep her doing what she was already doing for his brother and Lydia.

  Yet before either one of them could persuade the other, a late-model Cadillac sedan pulled diagonally into the two parking spots to the right of his. The older woman’s caked-on lipstick was clamped tightly around a cigarette and the rest of her makeup and teased blond hair appeared to have been plastered into place the decade before. Her petite frame and lavender business suit did nothing to detract from her assertiveness as she swung her heavy door open, narrowly missing banging his passenger side.

  “Are you that cowboy who was here a few days ago picking up some tables?” The woman’s voice sounded just as loud and abrasive as it had when she’d been laying into Vivienne over the phone yesterday.

  “I believe that was my brother, ma’am. I’m Cole Dalton.” He tipped the brim of his more formal black felt Stetson—after all, nobody could say he hadn’t come dressed to take this appointment seriously.

  She studied him from under lids weighted down with eye shadow before dropping her cigarette onto the asphalt and stepping on it with a white high-top sneaker that contradicted the rest of her outfit. “I’m guessing you brought the tables back, then?”

  “No, Estelle, he’s not—” Vivienne started, but Cole cut her off.

  He held up his checkbook. “I’m here to book a wedding planner.”

  The woman’s expression went from doubt to dollar signs as she reached out her bony, age-spotted fingers. “Then glad to meet you. Come on inside and Vivienne will get you all squared away with the paperwork.”

  Estelle didn’t release his hand and Cole was forced to follow her as she dragged him past Vivienne and through the door. He pretended not to see the warning look the younger woman directed his way. After five minutes in her boss’s company, he knew
he made the right choice to offer his help.

  The owner of Estelle’s Events had the disposition of a yappy Chihuahua and the tenacity of a pit bull.

  “But how do you know your fiancée wouldn’t go for a hot-air balloon ceremony? If she were here, I would tell her that they’re all the rage right now.” That was the eighth time Estelle had made a reference to the fact that the so-called bride-to-be wasn’t here.

  “She’s afraid of heights,” Cole said, rubbing the bridge of his nose to make sure it wasn’t growing.

  “Uh-huh,” Estelle replied as she slid a colorful brochure across the conference table toward him. “Have her look this over. Just in case.”

  Cole smiled stiffly as he tucked the folded paper into his front shirt pocket. He looked at Vivienne, who was sitting across from him, hiding behind her laptop screen, her fingers not making any sort of clicking sound on the keyboard.

  “How’s that contract going?” her boss asked her.

  “Um, all I...uh...need is the bride’s name.” Her eyes pleaded with him to forget this whole thing.

  But Estelle looked at him expectantly and Cole knew what would happen if he walked out and Vivienne didn’t secure her booking. He said the first name that popped into his mind.

  “Susie Starlight.” Then, because it sounded way too far-fetched saying it out loud like that, he quickly added, “Roper. Her last name’s Roper.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Vivienne’s face flew up from where she’d been ducking for cover. Her boss made a sound as though she was trying to clear her throat, which ended up triggering a lung-rattling smoker’s cough.

  “Or Susan, if you want to be formal,” Cole said with a purposeful shrug of his shoulders to make his slip seem more plausible. “But everyone calls her by her nickname. Can I get you some water, Estelle?”

  The older woman waved him off as she walked back to her office, her wheeze barely subsiding.

  “I am not writing that name on a legally binding contract,” Vivienne whispered.