Four Weddings and a Fiasco: The Wedding Caper by Patricia McLinn

hadn’t ever built up thoughts about a wedding night.
    On the plus side, both of them looking tired could help their charade, since stress could cause lack of sleep.
    “Let’s go see what Ella’s put together,” she said, grabbing a hooded sweater from a nearby chair. They’d both been careful to vary their look when they went to the Rose Chalet. And to slip in the back way through the kitchen. There were only so many visits a friendship with RJ could explain.
    After yesterday’s hubbub, the place seemed empty and flat to K.D.
    They found Ella, Rose, Phoebe, Ken, and RJ in Rose’s office. A flat-screen TV was revealed from behind a painting on one wall.
    “Good.” Rose said. “Ella’s ready. Stills first, then the video.”
    Ella had done a remarkable job. It truly looked like a real wedding. And one with more than a handful of guests.
    Even with all of them looking closely, there was only one still photo to be removed from the ones Ella had selected, and that’s because Patrick had been caught in the background turning his jacket inside out.
    Then came the video.
    If she didn’t know better, she’d think that couple on the screen who looked like Eric and her had actually gotten married.
    Knew the connection those exchanged looks implied.
    Had experienced the passion that kiss promised.
    Were actually in love.
    Ella should be in Hollywood. She’d made it all so . . .
real
.
    On the video, they turned and faced the “congregation,” their smiles a little awkward, a little shy. That was okay. That made sense. A newly married couple would feel that way.
    On the screen, Eric clasped her hand, looking at her. She looked back.
    The smiles changed. Became more comfortable. Okay. That was okay.
    The smiles changed more. Bigger, happier.
    She’d gotten through the kissing, but this was somehow . . . worse.
    That smile . . . .
    She felt . . . .
    K.D. stood, facing the others.
    “Fantastic job, Ella. That’ll work great. But we have to go now.”
    “There’s still the reception,” Ella said.
    “You’ve done such a good job on the rest, I’m sure it will be terrific. We have to get back to Eric’s without being seen. Sure would hate to compromise the entire set-up by being seen leaving here so close to check-in at Marriage-Save.”
    For another beat, no one moved, then Eric stood, too.
    “K.D.’s right. Thank you, Ella. Thank you, all. You’ve been amazing. Now it’s up to K.D. and me. Time to get to work.”
    ****
    “R eady? I’ll take your suitcase.” Eric called so she’d hear him at the other end of the hall.
    Where she’d slept these past nights. So close. Not nearly close enough.
    Oh, yeah, he’d fallen. Hard, fast, and true.
    Maybe he’d been trying to tell himself it wasn’t so. Maybe he’d half succeeded in fooling himself most of the time.
    That ended this afternoon.
    Watching that video. With how he felt there for all to see.
    Including K.D.
    It had clearly scared her half to death.
    He swore under his breath.
    This was going to be a fun couple of days.
    “I’m downstairs, Eric. My stuff’s here by the door.” K.D.’s voice floated up to him.
    He slipped the packet of prints Ella had given them into the outside pocket of his suitcase.
    He didn’t need the pictures to remind him of what he felt.
    “Next time, I’m carrying that damned suitcase come hell or high water,” he muttered.
    ****
    A fter a slight tussle at the bottom of the outside steps of Marriage-Save, concluded when she growled at Eric, “You would
not
be helping me with my suitcase,” they were buzzed into the discreetly labeled front door.
    They stepped into a gracious reception area.
    A broad wooden stairway started up along the right wall, then turned halfway to continue its ascent. On the left side was a wooden check-in desk that suited another era, its glowing wood matching the staircase. In between were groupings of small sofas and wide chairs that left the feeling that comfort was more important than