Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Plus-One

This wedding season, she’ll meet her match.

As a bridesmaid-for-hire, Anna Dyer lives and breathes weddings.

She’s not only the wedding planner, but she’s also the bride’s BFF, her confidante, and sometimes even her therapist.

Yet all of Anna’s experience is useless when she’s forced to work with the dreamy grump Rowan Caldwell.

Sure, Rowan might be a scrumptious hunk of manliness. But this handsome grump loathes weddings.

Even worse? Rowan concocts a crazy scheme for them to be each other’s plus-ones for wedding season. He says it’ll make things more convenient. (How romantic!)

Anna isn’t worried, though. She can play Rowan’s fake girlfriend without catching feelings.

But love? It has other plans…

Anna

As a wedding planner and bridesmaid-for-hire, I'd seen a lot of crazy things at people's weddings over the years.

Drunk groom who could barely remember his own name. Check.

Florist who used the one flower the bride was deathly allergic to? Check.

A ringbearer swallowing the ring right before the ceremony? Check.

Nothing fazed me. I'd seen it all. Family drama? I could diffuse the tensest arguments ever. Hysterical crying because the bride's dress no longer fit? Nothing a little wizardry and fabric tape couldn't handle.

Tonight was my one-hundredth wedding. Pleased with myself, I made the fatal mistake of paying more attention to the plate of fajitas in front of me than to whomever was standing to say a toast to the bride and groom.

I clapped after the best man made his toast. He even managed to get a few laughs out of the crowd. After he and the groom slapped each other's backs instead of a full hug, I didn't notice another person standing up.

To be fair, Granny Ruth was so small I'd been surprised she hadn't needed a booster seat. Despite her small stature, she was also one of the most terrifying people I'd ever met.

The first time I met her, she told me that I was too skinny and too young to be a wedding planner. What being too skinny had to do with planning someone's wedding, I didn't know.

"To my grandson," Granny Ruth said in a voice that made the crowd instantly go quiet. She raised her glass, her gaze solely on her grandson. "I'm so happy for you," she said. She wiped away a tear.

I wasn't moved. I froze in anticipation.

I glanced at the bride, Meredith, whose face had gone deathly pale. Her groom, Trevor, looked similarly horrified.

"Trevor Eric. My only grandson. I waited for this day my entire life. You look so handsome in your suit. When you broke up with Sarah, we were so heartbroken.

"Such a pretty, smart girl. We thought you'd never get married after that. You told us you loved her so much."

Trevor was grimacing. Meredith shot me a look that said, Stop her!

The thing was, I hadn't been paying attention, and I'd let Granny Ruth start talking when I should've kept her from the mic entirely. To be fair, I'd told the DJ who not to give the microphone to, but apparently that list had been forgotten.

Granny Ruth gestured to someone in the back. From the corner of my eye, I could see a woman with dark hair and her arms crossed. She also happened to be wearing white.
Who invited the ex-girlfriend? I thought wildly.

"Then one day you brought home your new girlfriend," continued Granny Ruth, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. "She's not a Catholic, though. Not like Sarah. I'd always dreamed that one day you'd marry in the church."

The mother of the groom tried to shush her, but to no avail. Granny Ruth merely shook off the offending hand.

"But we're glad now you didn't marry in the church. Your girlfriend wouldn't have been able to wear white like she did today."

Silence. I heard a buzzing in my ears. Then I sprang from my seat and snagged the mic from Granny Ruth.

"Thank you for that speech," I said as cheerfully as possible. "Let's give another round of applause for the happy couple!"

The crowd gave a few halfhearted claps, but I kept clapping until everyone else followed suit. I could feel Granny Ruth glaring at my back. If looks could kill, I was sure I would've been dead on the floor already from her steely gaze.

I hurried to Meredith, whispering in her ear, "I'm so sorry—"

Meredith shook off my touch. "It's fine." She pushed her chair back in a huff.

When Trevor didn't immediately follow her, she snapped at her new husband, "Are you coming?"

He mumbled something under his breath, casting me a resigned look.

I could tell that the tension was worsening as Meredith and Trevor began to cut the cake. Meredith wasn't looking at her husband at all, while Trevor looked vaguely constipated.

The cake was four tiers, a white tower of frosting, flowers, and an adorable cake topper that included the couple's dopey chocolate lab, Mickey.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Not your best work, Dyer," I muttered to myself.