high above me, she's so lovely
Okay, Wedding Planner!Casey fic chapter one done.
Or is it? I want feedback on a few specifics (although, feedback at all is great!):
a.) Sheldon's voice. Am I... sort of on track or is he too zany? I love the boy, I do, but I don't know how well I write him.
b.) I made Derek a bit "smoother" in his flirting with Casey at the end than he probably would be. Defense: He's older now and has never met Casey. If this doesn't work, please tell me!
and c.) I have another part written that I intended to go with this chapter where we meet Noel and Tinker. I put them into the very beginning of the next chapter but I'm curious as to whether I could but them in this.
Oh, and this was written off of moirariordan's prompt in fanprompted.
Or Aphrodite
by: amoenavi
-x-x-
Chapter One: First Class and Fancy Free
-x-x-
Sometimes, Casey McDonald really hated the man that invented stilettos.
Seriously. They were tall and pointy and thin and expensive, completely impractical, and yet so darn cute that she just had to wear them. Which was a bad idea, say, 99% of the time.
Especially when she was running through the streets of Toronto, Ontario laden down with boxes and bags full of blue bouquets and berets, trying to get to the Brooks’ wedding reception before Uncle Bert broke into the beer. Which so wasn’t going well because her headset was ringing and she didn’t have a hand free to answer it (which kind of defeats the purpose of the headset anyway) so she had to do some weird acrobatic move involving her shoulder and a brick wall and she probably crushed one of the bouquets with her butt and… yeah.
“Good afternoon, Enchanted Weddings, Casey speaking,” she huffed, leaning back against the wall to catch her breath. “How may I help you?”
“Casey? Where are you? The Venturis are here and checking out the place already but you’re not here and neither are the blue bouquets and I’m pretty sure this weird guy is a wedding crasher but you never - ooh, is that Chardonnay?” Emily Davis, assistant, chirped from the other end of the line.
Casey groaned. “Who - wait, the Venturis are there? But it’s only… what time is it?”
“Um, three-ish?” She heard a quick watery gulp. “There are five of them, are there supposed to be five of them? …and I… wow, the Venturi is actually here.”
“What do you-” she broke off as a man slammed into her outside the Park Hyatt. “Excuse you! I’m walking here! The nerve of some people...”
“Not to sound pushy but, uh, where exactly are you walking?”
“I’m walking…” Casey burst through the double doors and shut the headset off with a click. “Hi, Emily. Help me?” The Venturis (nowhere in sight, thank God) were obviously wandering around the hotel or lounging in their rental rooms.
The woman smiled and grabbed for the boxes. “I’ll take these, you need to sign in! The Brooks will be here soon!” Emily flapped a hand at the receptionist, frowning. “She wouldn’t let me sign in because I’m only the assistant. Yeah, well at least I don’t have to wear a uniform!” She stuck her tongue out at the blonde before turning on her heel and marching through the gold doors.
“Wait - what about these bags? And the bouquets? Emily!” She exhaled. “Fine, I’ll get them. Whatever.” She trudged over to the desk, struggling underneath the bags. “Hi, I’m Casey McDonald from Enchanted Weddings. We have a reservation for the Brooks’ wedding at 4:30 today.”
The receptionist, or as her very large and awkwardly placed nametag read, Stephanie typed this information into the computer slowly. “Uh-huh, we just need you to sign this.” She smiled fakely, revealing an almost never ending stream of white teeth. “Liability and all that.”
Casey looked at the sheet and then at the bags in her arms. “Oh. Yes! I mean - yes, of course. I just… is there anywhere I could…” she saved a bouquet from falling, “put these down? Like… could I go set these up in the ballroom first and then come back and sign?”
Stephanie sighed, clearly reflecting the burden this put on her. “Yeah, okay. But don’t-” she brandished a manicured finger, “steal anything. And be back in ten minutes. Got it?”
The brunette wedding planner gulped. “Um, yes, ma’am!” She squashed down the urge to salute.
-x-x-
The ballroom was beautifully decorated; the bouquets of hyacinths were in frosted glass vases on the tables, covered in a blue sparkle, the entire room glowing with an almost eerie blue. Let it not be said that Casey McDonald couldn’t (and wouldn’t) take a theme and run with it.
“There,” Casey said contentedly. “It’s perfect.” She turned around, reveling in the feel of another job well do - oh, damn.
“Forget something?” Stephanie fumed, stiletto tapping impatiently on the marble floor. “What happened to ‘ten minutes’?!”
“I - well, I,” her shoulders drooped and she admitted defeat. “Fine, I’ll come sign now. Emily!” she called. Emily whipped around from her position leaning on the piano flirting with the player. “Watch the stuff.” And with that, a defeated Casey followed the receptionist back to her desk. “This doesn’t happen often, I swear. I must just be a bit-”
Stephanie shoved a paper over the counter, pursing her lips. “Sign this before you pull another disappearing act, okay?” She rolled her eyes and ducked underneath the desk to get something.
Casey huffed. “Hmm. Rude.” And bent over to (finally) sign herself and her party in.
She was so involved in signing and muttering to herself that she failed to notice the scrawny, unshaven man walk up behind her, taking extra time to check her out.
“Hey,” the man said, winking at her and leaning against the counter. She started, hand fluttering to her heart, and turned to look at him in his tuxedo teeshirt and jeans before rolling her eyes.
“Be gone, wedding crasher,” she ordered wearily, finishing her signature and making a ‘shoo shoo’ motion with her hands. “I have important clients here and you will not crash this wedding.” She harrumphed. “And I am not so desperate as to be picked up at a wedding. Really.”
Casey flipped her hair over her shoulder and marched into the ballroom to meet with the Venturis.
-x-x-
“Edwin Venturi!” Emily squealed, eyes wide with excitement. “Can I - I mean, may I - I mean… will you autograph this?” She held up a small notebook filled with the wedding information of other clients, grinning.
Edwin took it from her, inspected the cover, and slowly returned it. “I can’t really sign these things. I mean, my signature is worth a lot of money these days and, well, what with forgery rates up and a wedding to plan and I don’t really, uh, I mean, I just… I don’t know you…” he coughed uncomfortably, looking over at Casey for help.
“Oh, I can assure you that we don’t illegally con men out of their money, sir.” She beamed.
A small, dark-haired woman in the back of the group snorted. “She’s funny, Ed.” The woman broke through the mini-crowd and presented her hand to Casey. “I’m Marti Venturi-soon-to-be-Davis and I’m the maid of horror.”
“She means maid of honor.” The willowy blonde attached to Edwin’s arm frowned delicately. “And she’s not engaged.”
“No… I definitely mean maid of horror and I am engaged.” Marti rolled her eyes. “Or I will be once he finally pops the question. Whatever. This is Michelle Temblau, the fiancée.”
Casey’s head spun toward the blonde. “It’s nice to meet you Miss Temblau.”
“Call me Michelle,” she said, not letting go of Edwin’s arm. “And, just a question: are all of your weddings this…” nose wrinkled, she searched for a word. “Um, blue?”
“Wha - No. No, no, no. This is just… they wanted a ‘bluetiful’ wedding. Hehe.” Emily grimaced at her lame joke after seeing the response from the family. “Yours will be much more… not blue. Right, Casey?”
“Right. Now, what I was thinking from your descriptions was: an elegant affair. A small cathedral, stained glass windows, white ribbons and tulle draped over the reserved sections of the aisle, a pipe organ playing your wedding song - ”
“Actually,” an older red-haired woman with a shrewd face interrupted, “It’s going to be a very large affair. A lot of flash… very expensive. Do you think you can do that?”
“Abby!” the blond man next to her (George) hissed. “Not now!” He smiled at Casey. “I’m George and this is my wife, Abby. We’re very glad that you’ve offered to plan our son’s wedding.” He elbowed Abby in the ribs. “Aren’t we, Abby?”
Abby nodded and Marti rolled her eyes again. “I thought your idea sounded great… for a spur of the moment.” She turned to her family. “Why don’t we, you know, actually give her time to plan the wedding before we decide to fire her?” Marti winked. “Don’t forget, Smerek still needs to meet her.”
That got Edwin out of his daze. “Derek? Derek needs to meet her? But it’s my wedding! I - ” he stopped when he saw the disapproval on his mother’s face. “Yeah, Derek will be by to see you at your office. He made an appointment,” he finished glumly.
“Okay,” Casey squeaked as Emily scrawled down the appointment, casting another admiring glance at Edwin.
Michelle smiled. “We have another planner to talk to. We’ll call you with our decision tonight.” She turned on her heel, practically dragging the rest of the family with her.
George lingered behind. “And… don’t listen to anything Derek suggests. He’s… well, um, he’s… just don’t listen to him.” He smiled shakily and sprinted to catch up to the rest of the family.
“Whew.” Emily blew out a breath. “Bride and MOGzilla alert.”
Casey nodded, feeling as though she had been run over by a train.
-x-x-
Enchanted Weddings resided in a small office in the top of a modern looking building, run by Casey McDonald, assistant Emily Davis, and the secretary they had hired upon moving to Toronto. Although he was efficient, kind, and overall, a quality secretary, Casey still wasn’t used to his… er, quirks.
Casey’s heels clicked against the marble as she waltzed into the room, pushing open the door with her shoulder and giving notes to Emily for later. “It doesn’t seem like Marti wants Edwin to marry Michelle, we’ll have to keep an eye on her. And Abby and George seem to be on the brink of divorce, we need to keep them together for the wedding. It would just be really awkward if there was a family divorce at the same time as the wedding. Oh, and make sure Sheldon sends - ”
Sheldon popped up from underneath the desk nearest to Casey. “You rang?”
“Holy - SHELDON? Is that - ?” she crushed the papers closer to her chest and let out the breath she’d been holding as Emily giggled, waving at Sheldon from the door. “I - DON’T DO THAT!”
“Do what?”
“JUST… POP OUT! IT’S… ARE YOU…” Sheldon’s eyebrows were scrunched together and his lips were pursed, creating a ‘confused face’ and she stopped, deciding it wasn’t worth explaining to him. For the fifteenth time. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” she muttered, backing into her office, arms full of decorations and folders.
He turned to Emily who was hiding her laughter behind her notebook. “She’s so strange. I mean, she’s nice but… she talks to herself too much. That can’t be healthy.”
“Sheldon, what were you doing underneath the table? Were you hiding?”
He looked offended that she would even have to ask. “I was looking for the mice that have been eating my food. Duh.”
She was about to respond to this… purely Sheldonic logic when the phone rang. Sheldon sprung into his chair, picked up the phone, and had his pen poised to take a message in the amount of time it took Emily to say, “You got - ”
“Good afternoon, Enchanted Weddings Incorporated, Sheldon Schlepper: male secretary speaking,” he answered, sounding a bit out of breath. “Yes, Casey McDonald is in. I’ll transfer your call.” He pressed the button and relaxed into the chair. “I never get any calls,” he lamented. “Do you think it’s because I’m too cheerful?”
“Nah, Shel. It’s probably because you don’t run the business. Who was calling?”
“Nora.” Emily rolled her eyes and sunk down into her own chair, exhausted. “What? Nora could want to talk to me!”
-x-x-
“So… I’ve been thinking about the holiday season,” her mother began, pausing and waiting for a response. Casey continued to file the folders she had in her hand. “Are you planning on bringing someone special?”
“What, Mom?” she replied, distracted.
Nora paused and she could practically hear her mother put on her Concerned!Mother face. “Casey, you’re still at the office.”
Casey laughed nervously, putting aside the Jones’ folder. “No, I’m at home watching a movie with my boyfriend.” She held a hand to the phone and yelled, “Yeah, I’d love some popcorn, sugar!”
“Nice try, sweetie. This is the office phone.”
“Oh… well, I’m, uh, I - I just… the folders need to be sorted and I’m…” she sighed, giving up. “Yes, Mom. I’m still at the office.”
“You’re going to overwork yourself! Isn’t your boyfriend taking up any of your time?”
She stiffened. “Well… yeah. Of - of course. Mostly Fridays though. He, um, he works in the week. And on Sundays. And Saturdays. And - ”
“Casey?” Nora interrupted.
She stopped and deflated. “Yeah?”
“You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”
“WHAT? Yeah, I do. Wha - Why would you think I didn’t?”
“No reason,” Nora replied slowly. “What’s his name, sweetie?”
Casey’s voice rose an octave in her panic. “Name?! Oh, right. His name. Pshhh, his name is… uh…” she scanned the room for a plausible male name to give to her mother. Edwin? No. George? Um, ew. Sheldon? Max? Noel? No, her mother knew those names. Finally her eyes settled on the appointment book clutched in her hand and she smiled.
“Derek. His name is Derek.”
“Oh?”
“And he’s charming and tall and he likes to take me out to eat. He also goes to the ballet with me when we both have time off. In fact… he’ll be here soon and we’ll be going out.”
“To do what?”
“We might be going to catch a movie or something. He lets me choose chick flicks every once in a while because…” Casey sat down in her chair, eyeing the name dreamily. “Well, he can’t really resist my puppy dog pout.”
“Is that so?” Nora paused. “You’re not doing anything else?”
“Going for Italian food. He knows how much I love it.”
“And then?” her mother asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Casey snapped out of her trance and colored. “Mom!”
“Kidding, kidding. Although…” she trailed off, thinking. “Always be safe!” she blurted out, seemingly unable to stop herself.
The wedding planner heard a distinctly feminine giggle coming from outside her door. “MOTHER!”
“’Night, Casey!” And dial tone.
-x-x-
Just outside her office door, Emily was listening to the radio as Sheldon tried to find the “mice”.
The young black woman shook her head of curls, swaying to the music. "You make me laugh, you make me cry; I don't know which side to buy."
“Emily? I think it would be best if you created a distraction for the rodents. Then I can sneak attack them!” Sheldon crawled underneath his desk with a piece of cheese. “C’mere little micey. C’mere.”
Nodding, she started to swing her hips to the music, dropping the pile of papers in her hand in her exuberance and stood up onto the chair. "Your friends - they're jerks - and when you act like them, you gotta know it hurts. I wanna be with the one - Oh!”
“Good distraction!”
She started at the sound of the door opening, watching with wide eyes as a scruffy man with reddish-brown hair strutted in, tie loosened and cuffs rolled up to expose his muscular forearms.
"Nice to know my brother's in good hands," the man muttered sardonically, dark eyes taking in the scattered papers on the floor, coffee mug resting on the wedding license, and the woman standing on the chair in the middle of the room with a horrified expression on her face.
"Casey McDonald in there?" he asked gruffly, gesturing toward the glass door. Emily nodded weakly. "I'll let myself in, thanks."
“I - ” She jumped down and shut the speakers off before straightening her skirt. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”
“Edweirdo said he made one for me.”
"Wait - you're Derek Venturi!" she said, starstruck.
He smirked, flashing his white teeth. Sheldon jumped up from underneath the coffee table in the corner and sized Derek up before realizing he couldn’t hurt him. He lowered himself back to the floor slowly.
“Um - just a second, sir.” Emily turned away from him and toward the office door. “Casey! Come out here!”
The doorknob turned and Casey sprinted out, fire extinguisher in one hand. “What? What’d Sheldon set fire to this time?” Noticing the visitor, she frowned, putting her hand on her hip and setting the extinguisher down. “Wedding crasher again? What’d you do: follow me here?”
He chuckled, eyebrow raised as Emily made a cutting motion with her hand. “Actually, I have an appointment. I’m Derek Venturi.”
Her jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing in a fishlike manner. “You’re Derek?” she squeaked.
Derek opened his arms in a ‘worship me’ gesture. “The one and only. Now, what’s this about a wedding?”
-x-x-
“Okay, so, um, thank you. And sorry… for earlier, Mr. Venturi.” Casey looked sheepish. “I’m used to dealing with wedding crashers, I guess.”
He laughed, following her out of her office and watching as she locked it behind her. “Yeah, I’m getting that. And it’s Derek.” His tone was light, flirty, and Emily gave Casey a thumbs up sign behind his back. Sheldon watched this exchange with an expression of almost jealousy.
“Edwin should be calling you with the ideas soon.”
“Oh, yeah. Good, I’ll be waiting by the phone,” she replied. “I mean - not literally. I do have a life. I party a lot.” Emily facepalmed. “I mean - not so much that it’s unprofessional or anything. Just… enough to qualify as having a life.” She paused. “That sounds lame, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, just a little,” Emily replied, shrugging on her coat and grabbing her bag to leave. “She’s not usually like this. It’s been a long day. Right, Casey?”
Sheldon grabbed his messenger bag and rushed to catch up. “Actually, she’s like this a lot.” Emily shot him a look as Casey flushed. “What?”
Derek stared blankly at the trio, eyebrow raised as they shut the doors to the office and had a silent conversation. “Um, so…” he interrupted, clearing his throat. They whipped around and he looked pointedly at Casey until Emily backed off, dragging Sheldon with her.
“Sorry about that,” she said as she walked toward him. “They’re… they mean well.” She sighed. “And it’s not like what they’re saying isn’t true.”
“So you’re free Friday night.” Derek leaned casually against the wall, tossing his keys into the air and catching them, fixing her with an intense gaze.
“Me?” she squeaked, shooting Emily a desperate look. “No, no, no, not free at all. I’m, uh, going on a date. Yeah, a date with my boyfriend.” At his raised eyebrow, she quickly added, “He’s a - a football player. Very muscular… gets jealous easily. Growls a lot. Rawr,” she growled weakly in demonstration. “So, uh, you- you and me, no. Me and… Max, yes.”
He watched as she ran into the elevator door in her hurry to leave, turning just in time to see Emily pinch the bridge of her nose and groan.
“She doesn’t have a boyfriend, does she?”
Emily shook her head, still trying to beat back her migraine. “Unless you mean Max, her cardboard cutout, completely imaginary boyfriend or Noel, her hopelessly devoted ex… no.”
They stood in silence for a moment, Derek wondering about his rejection and Emily about her best friend’s mental state.
Sheldon walked toward them, head in his bag. He looked up, confused. “Okay guys, I had a banana and now… it’s gone,” he stopped to consider this. “It just doesn't make sense. I mean, unless we have a monkey problem.”
-x-x-
/end chapter one?
Notes:
1. MOGzilla = Mother Of the Groom zilla. Like Bridezille except scarier. (Trust me, they're terrifying.)
2. I didn't code most of this seeing as I'm tired just looking at it. If something looks like it should be italicized or bolded or underlined, what have you, it probably is.
3. Emily does NOT mean an actual cardboard boyfriend. It's an expression we use around here. Like, someone's so perfect looking and sounding that there's no way they're more than two dimensional, i.e. "Well, he may seem like a cardboard cutout, but he's got depth, guys! Honest! He likes poetry!"
Whew. Um, that's over 3,000 and nothing's really happened yet. This is a monster. (A nice monster though. Like the Cookie Monster.)
ETA: thebucketwoman's suggestion edited in.
Or is it? I want feedback on a few specifics (although, feedback at all is great!):
a.) Sheldon's voice. Am I... sort of on track or is he too zany? I love the boy, I do, but I don't know how well I write him.
b.) I made Derek a bit "smoother" in his flirting with Casey at the end than he probably would be. Defense: He's older now and has never met Casey. If this doesn't work, please tell me!
and c.) I have another part written that I intended to go with this chapter where we meet Noel and Tinker. I put them into the very beginning of the next chapter but I'm curious as to whether I could but them in this.
Oh, and this was written off of moirariordan's prompt in fanprompted.
Or Aphrodite
by: amoenavi
-x-x-
Chapter One: First Class and Fancy Free
-x-x-
Sometimes, Casey McDonald really hated the man that invented stilettos.
Seriously. They were tall and pointy and thin and expensive, completely impractical, and yet so darn cute that she just had to wear them. Which was a bad idea, say, 99% of the time.
Especially when she was running through the streets of Toronto, Ontario laden down with boxes and bags full of blue bouquets and berets, trying to get to the Brooks’ wedding reception before Uncle Bert broke into the beer. Which so wasn’t going well because her headset was ringing and she didn’t have a hand free to answer it (which kind of defeats the purpose of the headset anyway) so she had to do some weird acrobatic move involving her shoulder and a brick wall and she probably crushed one of the bouquets with her butt and… yeah.
“Good afternoon, Enchanted Weddings, Casey speaking,” she huffed, leaning back against the wall to catch her breath. “How may I help you?”
“Casey? Where are you? The Venturis are here and checking out the place already but you’re not here and neither are the blue bouquets and I’m pretty sure this weird guy is a wedding crasher but you never - ooh, is that Chardonnay?” Emily Davis, assistant, chirped from the other end of the line.
Casey groaned. “Who - wait, the Venturis are there? But it’s only… what time is it?”
“Um, three-ish?” She heard a quick watery gulp. “There are five of them, are there supposed to be five of them? …and I… wow, the Venturi is actually here.”
“What do you-” she broke off as a man slammed into her outside the Park Hyatt. “Excuse you! I’m walking here! The nerve of some people...”
“Not to sound pushy but, uh, where exactly are you walking?”
“I’m walking…” Casey burst through the double doors and shut the headset off with a click. “Hi, Emily. Help me?” The Venturis (nowhere in sight, thank God) were obviously wandering around the hotel or lounging in their rental rooms.
The woman smiled and grabbed for the boxes. “I’ll take these, you need to sign in! The Brooks will be here soon!” Emily flapped a hand at the receptionist, frowning. “She wouldn’t let me sign in because I’m only the assistant. Yeah, well at least I don’t have to wear a uniform!” She stuck her tongue out at the blonde before turning on her heel and marching through the gold doors.
“Wait - what about these bags? And the bouquets? Emily!” She exhaled. “Fine, I’ll get them. Whatever.” She trudged over to the desk, struggling underneath the bags. “Hi, I’m Casey McDonald from Enchanted Weddings. We have a reservation for the Brooks’ wedding at 4:30 today.”
The receptionist, or as her very large and awkwardly placed nametag read, Stephanie typed this information into the computer slowly. “Uh-huh, we just need you to sign this.” She smiled fakely, revealing an almost never ending stream of white teeth. “Liability and all that.”
Casey looked at the sheet and then at the bags in her arms. “Oh. Yes! I mean - yes, of course. I just… is there anywhere I could…” she saved a bouquet from falling, “put these down? Like… could I go set these up in the ballroom first and then come back and sign?”
Stephanie sighed, clearly reflecting the burden this put on her. “Yeah, okay. But don’t-” she brandished a manicured finger, “steal anything. And be back in ten minutes. Got it?”
The brunette wedding planner gulped. “Um, yes, ma’am!” She squashed down the urge to salute.
-x-x-
The ballroom was beautifully decorated; the bouquets of hyacinths were in frosted glass vases on the tables, covered in a blue sparkle, the entire room glowing with an almost eerie blue. Let it not be said that Casey McDonald couldn’t (and wouldn’t) take a theme and run with it.
“There,” Casey said contentedly. “It’s perfect.” She turned around, reveling in the feel of another job well do - oh, damn.
“Forget something?” Stephanie fumed, stiletto tapping impatiently on the marble floor. “What happened to ‘ten minutes’?!”
“I - well, I,” her shoulders drooped and she admitted defeat. “Fine, I’ll come sign now. Emily!” she called. Emily whipped around from her position leaning on the piano flirting with the player. “Watch the stuff.” And with that, a defeated Casey followed the receptionist back to her desk. “This doesn’t happen often, I swear. I must just be a bit-”
Stephanie shoved a paper over the counter, pursing her lips. “Sign this before you pull another disappearing act, okay?” She rolled her eyes and ducked underneath the desk to get something.
Casey huffed. “Hmm. Rude.” And bent over to (finally) sign herself and her party in.
She was so involved in signing and muttering to herself that she failed to notice the scrawny, unshaven man walk up behind her, taking extra time to check her out.
“Hey,” the man said, winking at her and leaning against the counter. She started, hand fluttering to her heart, and turned to look at him in his tuxedo teeshirt and jeans before rolling her eyes.
“Be gone, wedding crasher,” she ordered wearily, finishing her signature and making a ‘shoo shoo’ motion with her hands. “I have important clients here and you will not crash this wedding.” She harrumphed. “And I am not so desperate as to be picked up at a wedding. Really.”
Casey flipped her hair over her shoulder and marched into the ballroom to meet with the Venturis.
-x-x-
“Edwin Venturi!” Emily squealed, eyes wide with excitement. “Can I - I mean, may I - I mean… will you autograph this?” She held up a small notebook filled with the wedding information of other clients, grinning.
Edwin took it from her, inspected the cover, and slowly returned it. “I can’t really sign these things. I mean, my signature is worth a lot of money these days and, well, what with forgery rates up and a wedding to plan and I don’t really, uh, I mean, I just… I don’t know you…” he coughed uncomfortably, looking over at Casey for help.
“Oh, I can assure you that we don’t illegally con men out of their money, sir.” She beamed.
A small, dark-haired woman in the back of the group snorted. “She’s funny, Ed.” The woman broke through the mini-crowd and presented her hand to Casey. “I’m Marti Venturi-soon-to-be-Davis and I’m the maid of horror.”
“She means maid of honor.” The willowy blonde attached to Edwin’s arm frowned delicately. “And she’s not engaged.”
“No… I definitely mean maid of horror and I am engaged.” Marti rolled her eyes. “Or I will be once he finally pops the question. Whatever. This is Michelle Temblau, the fiancée.”
Casey’s head spun toward the blonde. “It’s nice to meet you Miss Temblau.”
“Call me Michelle,” she said, not letting go of Edwin’s arm. “And, just a question: are all of your weddings this…” nose wrinkled, she searched for a word. “Um, blue?”
“Wha - No. No, no, no. This is just… they wanted a ‘bluetiful’ wedding. Hehe.” Emily grimaced at her lame joke after seeing the response from the family. “Yours will be much more… not blue. Right, Casey?”
“Right. Now, what I was thinking from your descriptions was: an elegant affair. A small cathedral, stained glass windows, white ribbons and tulle draped over the reserved sections of the aisle, a pipe organ playing your wedding song - ”
“Actually,” an older red-haired woman with a shrewd face interrupted, “It’s going to be a very large affair. A lot of flash… very expensive. Do you think you can do that?”
“Abby!” the blond man next to her (George) hissed. “Not now!” He smiled at Casey. “I’m George and this is my wife, Abby. We’re very glad that you’ve offered to plan our son’s wedding.” He elbowed Abby in the ribs. “Aren’t we, Abby?”
Abby nodded and Marti rolled her eyes again. “I thought your idea sounded great… for a spur of the moment.” She turned to her family. “Why don’t we, you know, actually give her time to plan the wedding before we decide to fire her?” Marti winked. “Don’t forget, Smerek still needs to meet her.”
That got Edwin out of his daze. “Derek? Derek needs to meet her? But it’s my wedding! I - ” he stopped when he saw the disapproval on his mother’s face. “Yeah, Derek will be by to see you at your office. He made an appointment,” he finished glumly.
“Okay,” Casey squeaked as Emily scrawled down the appointment, casting another admiring glance at Edwin.
Michelle smiled. “We have another planner to talk to. We’ll call you with our decision tonight.” She turned on her heel, practically dragging the rest of the family with her.
George lingered behind. “And… don’t listen to anything Derek suggests. He’s… well, um, he’s… just don’t listen to him.” He smiled shakily and sprinted to catch up to the rest of the family.
“Whew.” Emily blew out a breath. “Bride and MOGzilla alert.”
Casey nodded, feeling as though she had been run over by a train.
-x-x-
Enchanted Weddings resided in a small office in the top of a modern looking building, run by Casey McDonald, assistant Emily Davis, and the secretary they had hired upon moving to Toronto. Although he was efficient, kind, and overall, a quality secretary, Casey still wasn’t used to his… er, quirks.
Casey’s heels clicked against the marble as she waltzed into the room, pushing open the door with her shoulder and giving notes to Emily for later. “It doesn’t seem like Marti wants Edwin to marry Michelle, we’ll have to keep an eye on her. And Abby and George seem to be on the brink of divorce, we need to keep them together for the wedding. It would just be really awkward if there was a family divorce at the same time as the wedding. Oh, and make sure Sheldon sends - ”
Sheldon popped up from underneath the desk nearest to Casey. “You rang?”
“Holy - SHELDON? Is that - ?” she crushed the papers closer to her chest and let out the breath she’d been holding as Emily giggled, waving at Sheldon from the door. “I - DON’T DO THAT!”
“Do what?”
“JUST… POP OUT! IT’S… ARE YOU…” Sheldon’s eyebrows were scrunched together and his lips were pursed, creating a ‘confused face’ and she stopped, deciding it wasn’t worth explaining to him. For the fifteenth time. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” she muttered, backing into her office, arms full of decorations and folders.
He turned to Emily who was hiding her laughter behind her notebook. “She’s so strange. I mean, she’s nice but… she talks to herself too much. That can’t be healthy.”
“Sheldon, what were you doing underneath the table? Were you hiding?”
He looked offended that she would even have to ask. “I was looking for the mice that have been eating my food. Duh.”
She was about to respond to this… purely Sheldonic logic when the phone rang. Sheldon sprung into his chair, picked up the phone, and had his pen poised to take a message in the amount of time it took Emily to say, “You got - ”
“Good afternoon, Enchanted Weddings Incorporated, Sheldon Schlepper: male secretary speaking,” he answered, sounding a bit out of breath. “Yes, Casey McDonald is in. I’ll transfer your call.” He pressed the button and relaxed into the chair. “I never get any calls,” he lamented. “Do you think it’s because I’m too cheerful?”
“Nah, Shel. It’s probably because you don’t run the business. Who was calling?”
“Nora.” Emily rolled her eyes and sunk down into her own chair, exhausted. “What? Nora could want to talk to me!”
-x-x-
“So… I’ve been thinking about the holiday season,” her mother began, pausing and waiting for a response. Casey continued to file the folders she had in her hand. “Are you planning on bringing someone special?”
“What, Mom?” she replied, distracted.
Nora paused and she could practically hear her mother put on her Concerned!Mother face. “Casey, you’re still at the office.”
Casey laughed nervously, putting aside the Jones’ folder. “No, I’m at home watching a movie with my boyfriend.” She held a hand to the phone and yelled, “Yeah, I’d love some popcorn, sugar!”
“Nice try, sweetie. This is the office phone.”
“Oh… well, I’m, uh, I - I just… the folders need to be sorted and I’m…” she sighed, giving up. “Yes, Mom. I’m still at the office.”
“You’re going to overwork yourself! Isn’t your boyfriend taking up any of your time?”
She stiffened. “Well… yeah. Of - of course. Mostly Fridays though. He, um, he works in the week. And on Sundays. And Saturdays. And - ”
“Casey?” Nora interrupted.
She stopped and deflated. “Yeah?”
“You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”
“WHAT? Yeah, I do. Wha - Why would you think I didn’t?”
“No reason,” Nora replied slowly. “What’s his name, sweetie?”
Casey’s voice rose an octave in her panic. “Name?! Oh, right. His name. Pshhh, his name is… uh…” she scanned the room for a plausible male name to give to her mother. Edwin? No. George? Um, ew. Sheldon? Max? Noel? No, her mother knew those names. Finally her eyes settled on the appointment book clutched in her hand and she smiled.
“Derek. His name is Derek.”
“Oh?”
“And he’s charming and tall and he likes to take me out to eat. He also goes to the ballet with me when we both have time off. In fact… he’ll be here soon and we’ll be going out.”
“To do what?”
“We might be going to catch a movie or something. He lets me choose chick flicks every once in a while because…” Casey sat down in her chair, eyeing the name dreamily. “Well, he can’t really resist my puppy dog pout.”
“Is that so?” Nora paused. “You’re not doing anything else?”
“Going for Italian food. He knows how much I love it.”
“And then?” her mother asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.
Casey snapped out of her trance and colored. “Mom!”
“Kidding, kidding. Although…” she trailed off, thinking. “Always be safe!” she blurted out, seemingly unable to stop herself.
The wedding planner heard a distinctly feminine giggle coming from outside her door. “MOTHER!”
“’Night, Casey!” And dial tone.
-x-x-
Just outside her office door, Emily was listening to the radio as Sheldon tried to find the “mice”.
The young black woman shook her head of curls, swaying to the music. "You make me laugh, you make me cry; I don't know which side to buy."
“Emily? I think it would be best if you created a distraction for the rodents. Then I can sneak attack them!” Sheldon crawled underneath his desk with a piece of cheese. “C’mere little micey. C’mere.”
Nodding, she started to swing her hips to the music, dropping the pile of papers in her hand in her exuberance and stood up onto the chair. "Your friends - they're jerks - and when you act like them, you gotta know it hurts. I wanna be with the one - Oh!”
“Good distraction!”
She started at the sound of the door opening, watching with wide eyes as a scruffy man with reddish-brown hair strutted in, tie loosened and cuffs rolled up to expose his muscular forearms.
"Nice to know my brother's in good hands," the man muttered sardonically, dark eyes taking in the scattered papers on the floor, coffee mug resting on the wedding license, and the woman standing on the chair in the middle of the room with a horrified expression on her face.
"Casey McDonald in there?" he asked gruffly, gesturing toward the glass door. Emily nodded weakly. "I'll let myself in, thanks."
“I - ” She jumped down and shut the speakers off before straightening her skirt. “Do you have an appointment, sir?”
“Edweirdo said he made one for me.”
"Wait - you're Derek Venturi!" she said, starstruck.
He smirked, flashing his white teeth. Sheldon jumped up from underneath the coffee table in the corner and sized Derek up before realizing he couldn’t hurt him. He lowered himself back to the floor slowly.
“Um - just a second, sir.” Emily turned away from him and toward the office door. “Casey! Come out here!”
The doorknob turned and Casey sprinted out, fire extinguisher in one hand. “What? What’d Sheldon set fire to this time?” Noticing the visitor, she frowned, putting her hand on her hip and setting the extinguisher down. “Wedding crasher again? What’d you do: follow me here?”
He chuckled, eyebrow raised as Emily made a cutting motion with her hand. “Actually, I have an appointment. I’m Derek Venturi.”
Her jaw dropped, mouth opening and closing in a fishlike manner. “You’re Derek?” she squeaked.
Derek opened his arms in a ‘worship me’ gesture. “The one and only. Now, what’s this about a wedding?”
-x-x-
“Okay, so, um, thank you. And sorry… for earlier, Mr. Venturi.” Casey looked sheepish. “I’m used to dealing with wedding crashers, I guess.”
He laughed, following her out of her office and watching as she locked it behind her. “Yeah, I’m getting that. And it’s Derek.” His tone was light, flirty, and Emily gave Casey a thumbs up sign behind his back. Sheldon watched this exchange with an expression of almost jealousy.
“Edwin should be calling you with the ideas soon.”
“Oh, yeah. Good, I’ll be waiting by the phone,” she replied. “I mean - not literally. I do have a life. I party a lot.” Emily facepalmed. “I mean - not so much that it’s unprofessional or anything. Just… enough to qualify as having a life.” She paused. “That sounds lame, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, just a little,” Emily replied, shrugging on her coat and grabbing her bag to leave. “She’s not usually like this. It’s been a long day. Right, Casey?”
Sheldon grabbed his messenger bag and rushed to catch up. “Actually, she’s like this a lot.” Emily shot him a look as Casey flushed. “What?”
Derek stared blankly at the trio, eyebrow raised as they shut the doors to the office and had a silent conversation. “Um, so…” he interrupted, clearing his throat. They whipped around and he looked pointedly at Casey until Emily backed off, dragging Sheldon with her.
“Sorry about that,” she said as she walked toward him. “They’re… they mean well.” She sighed. “And it’s not like what they’re saying isn’t true.”
“So you’re free Friday night.” Derek leaned casually against the wall, tossing his keys into the air and catching them, fixing her with an intense gaze.
“Me?” she squeaked, shooting Emily a desperate look. “No, no, no, not free at all. I’m, uh, going on a date. Yeah, a date with my boyfriend.” At his raised eyebrow, she quickly added, “He’s a - a football player. Very muscular… gets jealous easily. Growls a lot. Rawr,” she growled weakly in demonstration. “So, uh, you- you and me, no. Me and… Max, yes.”
He watched as she ran into the elevator door in her hurry to leave, turning just in time to see Emily pinch the bridge of her nose and groan.
“She doesn’t have a boyfriend, does she?”
Emily shook her head, still trying to beat back her migraine. “Unless you mean Max, her cardboard cutout, completely imaginary boyfriend or Noel, her hopelessly devoted ex… no.”
They stood in silence for a moment, Derek wondering about his rejection and Emily about her best friend’s mental state.
Sheldon walked toward them, head in his bag. He looked up, confused. “Okay guys, I had a banana and now… it’s gone,” he stopped to consider this. “It just doesn't make sense. I mean, unless we have a monkey problem.”
-x-x-
/end chapter one?
Notes:
1. MOGzilla = Mother Of the Groom zilla. Like Bridezille except scarier. (Trust me, they're terrifying.)
2. I didn't code most of this seeing as I'm tired just looking at it. If something looks like it should be italicized or bolded or underlined, what have you, it probably is.
3. Emily does NOT mean an actual cardboard boyfriend. It's an expression we use around here. Like, someone's so perfect looking and sounding that there's no way they're more than two dimensional, i.e. "Well, he may seem like a cardboard cutout, but he's got depth, guys! Honest! He likes poetry!"
Whew. Um, that's over 3,000 and nothing's really happened yet. This is a monster. (A nice monster though. Like the Cookie Monster.)
ETA: thebucketwoman's suggestion edited in.