Cold Feet

VIOLA

Cold feet.

No, I don’t mean cold feet as in the kind you get from being out in the cold or swimming in water that’s too cold or simply not dressing warm enough.

I mean the other kind of cold feet.

The worst kind.

The kind that some women, and to a lesser extent, some men get just before their wedding. Yes, that kind.

My biggest pet hate. Why? Because in my line of work, they can ruin everything.

What is my line of work?

I’m a wedding planner. Any wedding planner hates and fears cold feet. They can derail everything. The whole day. Ruin you financially and possibly your reputation too.

I’ve been in this game a long time though and I’ve learned the hard way. When you’ve had enough cancellations because of cold feet you become hard. It becomes a matter of survival as well as doing what you love.

I now insist on non-refundable deposits from clients. They sign a contract when they hire me and they accept that they will lose their hard-earned money if they dare cancel. The deposit covers the location rental, decorations, cakes, caterers, furniture and marquee, photographer, band, and absolutely everything I need to cover.

I’ve gone a step further with my service. I include a counselor who provides last-minute counseling if the bride or the groom gets cold feet. They don’t know the person they’re speaking to is a counselor if I send them in. The counselor works the magic they need to, to keep the show on the road.

I’m the best. Not just as far as clients are concerned but also as far as my suppliers are concerned. They know they’ll get paid even if the show doesn’t go on.

I’m inundated with clients and they even delay their weddings just so I can be the wedding planner. I’m not boasting, just saying how it is.

For me, it’s not about the business aspect. There’s something about seeing a couple walk down the aisle to that moment in time when they will commit to each other before God and everyone present. Seeing the love and caring in their eyes and their kiss and the celebrations that follow. I love it. I love to see a couple in love and happy. That’s why I do it. I help couples make a dream come true with their wedding day.

But right now, I’m waiting with bated breath. It’s early Saturday afternoon.

The groom is waiting in church and the bride hasn’t even left her home yet. The counselor is doing her best but this one is her hardest to date.

I’m beginning to think that I’m about to lose the first wedding I’ve lost in ages. I am seeing my record run of talking brides and grooms out of cold feet threatening to end here and now. The groom is restless as are the people in the church.

I wait with bated breath for the message to update me.

My phone pings. The bride is on her way.

I say a silent prayer of thanks and heave a sigh of relief. I key the walkie-talkie and speak to my team. “Bride’s on the way. Positions please.”

I receive crackled confirmations from the team and head inside to tell the groom the bride is on the way. I lie and tell him that there was a traffic jam because of an accident. That’s usually the story I give them. The bride, or groom, whichever one of them had cold feet is always told what to say beforehand. As far as possible, no-one wants to admit they had cold feet on their wedding day. It’s not the way to start a marriage. They can sort it out later if the bride or groom wants to give their new spouse the real reason why they were late.

The drive to the church isn’t far and thankfully the bride’s car arrives soon enough. The bride steps out and the organ starts playing as she enters the church with the flower girls and maid of honor trailing behind her.

The groom watches her and his face lights up with joy. He can’t see her face that well because of the veil. I hope the bride is giving none of her fear away. My counselor climbed out of the car when they arrived. It must have been bad if the counselor had to drive with her to the church.

It worries me that she might still at this stage back out but thankfully she doesn’t. I say another prayer of thanks when she says ‘I do” and kisses her husband.

I wait outside as the newly married couple exit the church. Guests and well-wishers sprinkle confetti and smile as the couple walks down the church steps and climbs into the waiting carriage.

We made it this far, I think with relief. Now it’s on to the reception which I expect will go off without a hitch. The couple will do their photos just before the reception so there is time for me to have lunch and regroup with the team.

As I turn to reenter the church, I notice him for the first time. I pause as I take him in.

He is slim and muscular. Not too muscular but he clearly spends time in the gym. His hair is jet black and short but not military style. His blue eyes sparkle and his strong jaw is perfectly proportioned. White teeth sparkle with his smile and everything about him says ‘I am in charge.”

He can be in charge of me any day, I think as I take him in. He’s looking at the newly married couple but must feel my eyes on him because he turns and our eyes meet for the briefest of moments. I blush and look away quickly as I soak my panties.

I didn’t see that he was with someone and I wonder where his partner is. Surely, he can’t be at this wedding alone? Not someone as gorgeous as him!

I feel his eyes on me but I resist the urge to look at him again. I wait until the couple is heading down the road in the wedding carriage and then I key my walkie-talkie and call the team together for a meeting.

We meet on the church grounds where we eat lunch. In my business, I have a lot of contacts. One of them is a caterer I use regularly for food for the team. They’re not expensive and the food is always good. They also know what food is needed for every team member so I don’t have to worry that someone might get the order wrong. It just makes everything so much easier. One more part of the well-oiled machine that my wedding planner business is.

Catering also lets us eat somewhere away from crowds in a restaurant with no distractions. We can focus on what needs to be done and adapt our plan any way we need to without interference.

The team all confirm they are ready for the role they will play in the reception. The photographer is the only one who is absent since he has a full day with the bride and groom.

The band confirms that they are ready with their equipment and will head to the reception location after lunch to begin setting up and testing their equipment.

I move through the checklist and mark off items one by one as the team members confirm that their part in the ‘show’ is ready to go.

Catering. Check. Band. Check. Decorations. Check. Flowers. Check. MC. Check. The list goes on and each item is a check.

I finish the checklist and everyone continues eating.

Ashley approaches me. She’s the counselor I use when the bride or groom get’s cold feet. I never expect her to stay around after the wedding. Her job is pretty much done after the couple has said ‘I do’.

“Ashley,” I smile and embrace her. We have worked together for a long time and are good friends now.

“You did a great job as usual,” I smile when we end our embrace and I look at her.

Ashley looks at the team quickly and then back at me. “Can we speak somewhere privately?”

I sense concern in her voice and nod my head. “Sure. Let’s go inside.” We enter the church through a side door and take a pew beside each other.

“What is it?” I ask Ashley.

Ashley looks at me. “This was the hardest session ever,” she says. “I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing.”

I frown in confusion, “What do you mean you don’t know if you’ve done the right thing?”

Ashley wipes away a stray wisp of black hair from her face and continues, “I get that people have cold feet sometimes and I know it’s my job to get them through that so the wedding can go off well. But sometimes there’s more to the reason for their cold feet than it just being cold feet. No-one has ever given me a reason before today but today the bride gave me a reason.”

“I’m not sure I’m following you,” I say.

Ashley looks as if she’s about to cry and she opens her mouth to continue but then closes it.

“Is everything okay?” a voice asks from behind me.

I turn around and see the minister who married the bride and groom.

“Yes father,” I say standing out of respect. “Ashley is just emotional to see her sister is married.” I wait for the lightning to turn me to a crisp for lying to the father but it doesn’t come.

“As long as it’s happy emotions,” the father smiles.

“I couldn’t agree more,” I smile. Ashley simply nods. I know she doesn’t trust her voice as she looks as if she is about to break down altogether.

“Very well then,” the father says and pats Ashley’s shoulder as he moves off.

Ashley’s eyes close and she begins to sob silently. I sit beside her and put my arm around her. “It’s okay. Talk to me. What is the problem?”

Ashley cries for a long time and then finally she calms enough to stop crying. I have given her all my tissues and she blows her nose again and dabs at her makeup which is ruined. At least she has time to fix it before the reception. She doesn’t have to attend but normally she does.

She becomes silent for a moment and then finally, trusting her voice to be stable she tells me what has her so upset. “The bride had cold feet because… because she thinks the groom is cheating on her.”

The words hit me like a Mack truck. “What? Are you serious?”

Ashley nods her head and, as she begins to cry again, she manages to say, “I may have convinced the bride to marry a cheater!”

VIOLA

I’ve never had this situation before. Ashley tells me that the bride has no proof. She’s not even sure who the groom might be cheating with if he is cheating.

I calm Ashley enough that she stops crying and I try to make her feel better. I remind her of what a great job she has done for me every time I have needed her and that everything has been fine. I try to assure her that everything will be fine today too. I suggest that she rather goes home and does not attend the reception but she insists that she will.

I am tempted to pull the groom to one side before the reception and tell him what I’ve been told and tell him to keep his dick in his pants at least for today figuratively speaking. But it’s no business of mine. If the bride is wrong and I bring this up, I could be sued, and so could Ashley. I would probably lose my whole reputation and my business, never mind the fact that I would have to refund the money I have been paid for this wedding. I could do it but that’s beside the point. I would possibly never get another wedding in my life.

No, the show must go on. I think positively and try to assure Ashley again that everything will be fine. There’s no harm in positive thinking. Right?

Ashley goes home to rest and fix her makeup before returning for the reception. The team has finished their lunch and has left by the time I go outside again.

I leave and head home where I rest a bit and have a shower. I always build in the time to get home, get changed, and have a shower before the reception. The job of a wedding planner is not an easy one and the amount of sweating that I do at the church is unbelievable. There is no way I can go all day without a shower and a change of clothes.

Ready for ‘round two’ as I refer to the reception, I get in my car and head to the location. I’m early as always. The reception is being held at the Bel Air Bay Club.

I move through the building and out to the gardens making sure that everything is going according to plan. I search for the man I saw outside the church earlier but he doesn’t appear to have arrived yet. It’s still early though and not many guests have arrived yet.

There are no hiccups and aside from what Ashley told me, I think the reception will go off perfectly.

The wedding couple and their families arrive and are directed to the gardens. It’s time for the photos to be done before the reception starts.

I watch the bride and groom together. The bride seems happy. I watch her and notice that her face gives away nothing other than the appearance of being happy. I’m sure it was just nerves and paranoia I tell myself. Now the bride is married and she realizes there is nothing to be worried about at all.

The families gather, meet, greet and chat as they wait for their turn to pose in the photos with the happy couple. It always makes me happy to see the union of two families through one happy couple. The marriages don’t always last but I don’t think of that. What matters is today and the happiness that the couple shares. The bride seems to relax and even smiles and laughs.

There you go, I think. Sure, she was the toughest bride yet for Ashley but there’s nothing to worry about.

The photos take a long time and by the time they’re finished the guests are waiting where they are seated in the garden area. Using my walkie-talkie, I check with everyone that we are ‘green’ and get confirmation from all of them.

I make my way to the table furthest from the tables of honor. I sit down and run through things again. Everything is taken care of.

The reception begins and the MC has the guests in laughter as he tells tales about the newlyweds and jokes with them. From here on out the MC runs the show. I take orders from him if need be and make sure what he needs at any given moment is taken care of.

The reception couldn’t be better. I think it’s one of the best ever. Ashley has arrived and is seated with me at the table. I assure her repeatedly that everything is okay and she seems to relax.

As we begin to eat, I see him. He doesn’t see me and my eyes follow him as he mingles with the other guests, smiling and talking with nothing but god-given confidence. I watch him because I want to know if he is with someone but at no stage do I see a partner.

I wonder who he is. I did not see him at the photo session so I doubt he is family. He must be here with an invite and I wonder who has invited him. He sees me again and smiles. I blush and look away again quickly. I feel my face grow redder as I see him approaching with my peripheral vision.

I realize he is looking straight at me. I feel my panties soaking again as I blush. Control yourself! I scold myself mentally. The man hasn’t even spoken to you yet and you’re flooding your panties! He probably only needs salt or something anyway.

I look up at him as he stops beside me. He looks down at me and his lips part in a smile revealing sparkling white teeth. I give him the quick once over. He is wearing a grey suit and a white shirt that looks as if it’s been pressed by a steamroller. There is not a single crease on it. It’s immaculate. He wears a tie which looks black in the light. It’s the right length. His suit fits perfectly. It’s neither too big nor too tight for his toned frame. His shoes finish his outfit and they simply gleam as if they’ve been waxed and polished at a car wash.

My eyes meet his again. He is still smiling. I blush again like a little girl who has just been spoken to by her first high school crush.

“Hi. I’m Rick,” he says offering his hand. His voice is so calm yet masculine and firm.

And I am so wet. No man has ever had this effect on me.

I stand so I won’t be craning my neck to admire this gorgeous, heaven-sent gift of a man. I take his hand and shake it without realizing what I am doing. I feel as if I have no control over my body and it’s simply acting of its own volition. His skin is soft and warm and I picture his hands running over my naked skin as I blush again.

“I’m Viola,” I say. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Rick smiles. He leans across the table and offers his hand to Ashley who takes it and blushes as well. They greet each other before Rick turns back to me.

“Could we take a walk?” he asks.

“I… I…,” I stutter. I’m at a loss for words and look at Ashley desperately for help.

She is smiling and nods waving me away with her hand.

“… okay,” I manage to say.

VIOLA

He offers his arm and I link my arm through his. We wander away from the party into the gardens. There is still some time before the reception begins. I’m sure whatever he wishes to discuss will be over by then.

“It’s a lovely evening,” he says, sounding as if he is observing something working exactly the way it should.

“I think it’s perfect,” I reply.

“Nearly perfect.” His remark tells me that he thinks something is missing.

“And what would make it perfect if I may ask?” I say looking up at him as we walk towards the beach.

“Getting to know you better,” he replies confidently.

I blush, thankful that it is night and there is little light for him to see how red my face is. My skin is a golden brown but despite its color, I’m sure he could see me blushing if there was enough light. Despite the cool breeze, I feel warmer than expected and I know it’s Rick’s remark and his closeness that is having this effect on me. What is wrong with you? No man has ever had this effect on me this quickly. I know I’m feeling like a little girl who has just been spoken to by her first high school crush. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I haven’t had someone in my life for a long time.

“Do you gatecrash weddings looking for women that you can charm and flirt with? Is that your strategy to find a girlfriend?” I tease.

He chuckles. “Not at all. I just happened to be invited to this wedding as a friend of a friend.”

“I had no idea that people were in the habit of inviting friends of friends to wedding receptions these days.”

Rick laughs. “Well, I’m glad I was invited otherwise I would never have met you.”

“Oh really?” I smile. “Tell me, does the hard sell really work with women for you?” I’m guessing it does. He’s so damn gorgeous. And while he’s straightforward and confident, he doesn’t come across as being arrogant.

“Is that what you call it?”

“Mm-hmm,” I reply.

“Well, then I must admit I don’t usually do the hard sell but tonight when I saw you, I thought I probably don’t have much time. You’re very busy with coordinating the wedding and, I might add, you’re doing an absolutely stellar job of it but I’m guessing that you walking with me right now is a luxury that you can scarcely afford unless you have someone who can hold the fort a while.”

“You seem to know me well,” I say glancing at him.

He stops and turns to look at me taking my hand in his with ease. If anyone saw us, they would easily think we were a couple. I am amazed at how he does not seem to think it might be considered creepy or think it might be crossing a line considering that we’ve only just met.

The truth is I don’t mind. As he holds my hand, I make no move to withdraw it from his. His hands are soft, and his touch gentle. His touch is setting my skin on fire and I don’t think a fire extinguisher can put out the fire between my thighs. His eyes, his voice, his smile are all so perfect and are all having an effect on me that no man has ever had.

“When I saw you tonight, I knew I had to get to know you better. I just felt … something. When our eyes met, I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”

“Careful then. You might get burned,” I tease.

“I somehow don’t think so,” he smiles. “I’m grateful you’re giving me this time and I don’t know how long we have so I’ll just come right out and say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to see you again. I want to get to know you better. Will you give me your number?” As he asks, he releases my hand and he places his hand on my cheek. I lean into his touch. It’s warm. Comforting.

I say nothing but simply look into his eyes. He leans into me bringing his face to my level. Our noses touch. He is asking permission without saying a word. I don’t reply and he takes my silence as permission.

Our lips brush softly, briefly. It’s another request for permission. When he senses no resistance, his lips settle on mine and I hungrily clamp his lower lip between my teeth as I suck it. Our tongues clash and briefly battle for entry before we acknowledge we both want the same thing and they start to dance with our passion. Our breathing quickens as he pulls me close. He wraps his arms around me and I feel so safe and warm as if I am in a cocoon. I wrap my arms around him but my hands can’t join behind him. I let them roam up and down his back and I can feel his toned body under his shirt.

As our hands explore, I feel his desire pressing against me. I drop my hands to his waist and then to his ass and pull him closer increasing the pressure of him against me.

A soft moan escapes me. When I grab his ass, he quickly follows and his hands settle on my ass. They squeeze my ass cheeks and then massage them softly but firmly.

We eventually come up for air and I hastily look around wondering if anyone has seen us. I am beginning to feel guilty at being gone so long. He looks around too as if he senses my concern. He looks around again and in the next moment sweeps me off my feet.

I let out a surprised squeal and he quickly hushes me with his lips on mine.

Up ahead the path is lined by trees and he carries me through a gap in the trees on the left. A bigger tree stands behind the trees lining the path and he sets me down behind it out of sight of the path. Pressing me against the tree, he kisses me hungrily again. His hands are all over me and mine are all over him.

What are you doing? You don’t even know this man that well. My inner voice is talking non-stop, taken aback by my sudden recklessness. I don’t normally do this. No, wait. I never do this, have never done this. I’m living a little, I answer my inner voice. Now shut up!

Rick’s hands find the hem of my skirt. I feel his hands as they settle between my thighs. He ends our kiss and looks at me astounded.

“You little tart,” he whispers. “You’re soaking!”

“I… cannot… tell a lie,” I whisper with a smile.

It’s all it takes. He lifts my skirt over my ass and I feel the tree’s bark press against my ass briefly. His fingers find the elastic of my panties and pull them downward.

I don’t stop him. I don’t resist. I should be getting back to the reception but dammit, I can’t help myself right now. I have never been this hot for anyone in my life. There are so many elements right here that make me want this here and now.

We’re outside, we could be discovered, he is a handsome, confident, sexy stranger who could have anyone he wants but he wants me. This is so passionate. We hardly know each other but we want each other. There’s nothing to make us overthink this. It’s just a man and a woman giving in to their carnal desire.

He pulls my panties down and I step out of them as I rest my hands on his back. He straightens and holds up my white lace thong. It’s my favorite. It must be lucky.

I look from my panties to him and blush. He brings them to his nose and smells them. He inhales deeply and then lowers them as he looks at me.

“You smell so good,” he whispers. “I want you.” He moves closer and I let him. I want him. My walkie-talkie crackles sounding like a scream in the quiet darkness around us.

I grab it and key it.

“V here, go,” I say.

It’s Jessica. Her voice crackles over the walkie-talkie, “We need you at the reception.”

“I’m on my way,” I say.

Rick looks at me, his eyebrows raised.

I blush. “I have to go. Sorry.”

He holds up my panties, with a questioning look.

“Later,” I say as I straighten my skirt. “I need to get back…”

He pulls me to him and kisses me again quickly. “Don’t let me keep you. Maybe we can continue this after the wedding?”

“Maybe,” I say as I pull away and make my way back to the path. I feel the coolness of the night air and freedom now that I am commando. I have to admit that it feels good. You little slut, my inner voice says. I answer it and it falls silent, Yeah, you’re loving it as much as I am. You’re in the same body remember? I realize I’ll have to remember to be careful when I bend over and sit down. I can do that I tell myself.

I key the walkie-talkie as I walk briskly back to the reception. “What’s needed?” I ask. I never ask ‘what’s the problem?’ It has negative connotations and I am superstitious that it will bring bad luck and so I avoid referring to anything as a problem.

“Bar limit checkpoint,” my assistant replies.

Wow! I think to myself. This party is pumping. The bar limit checkpoint comes when eighty percent of the allocated budget had been reached. It is one of my standard operating procedures. When this point is reached, I seek approval to exceed the limit and confirm a new limit with whoever is footing the bill booze bill. I estimate the party still has at least two hours to go and there is no way the budget will last. There are a variety of options available to limit the cost and it’s time to speak to Trish’s father who is paying in this instance.

“Okay. I’ll get back to you,” I tell Jessica.