Bridesmaid For Hire

Theresa hesitated for a moment. “Well, the caterer usually provides the cake unless the bride has other ideas.”

“Wouldn’t that still come out of the bride’s pocket—so to speak? That makes it part of the package deal between the bride and me,” Gina concluded.

“Perhaps, but I don’t want Sylvie stressing out any more than she already is,” Theresa said, hoping that would satisfy Gina and put an end to any further questions, at least for the time being. “We’ll talk more tomorrow, dear,” Theresa promised just before she quickly terminated the call.

Strange, Gina thought. But then, so was what she did for a living. Especially in her mother’s eyes. The bottom line was that she was employed again.

This was good. This was very, very good.

She could feel herself growing enthusiastic, the way she always did at the beginning of a new assignment.

She looked over toward the coffee table. Her ice cream had turned into soup.

Getting up, Gina picked up the rum raisin container and took it back to the freezer so that she could turn the soup back into ice cream again.

She was whistling as she went.

Chapter Three (#uf3b324b6-ac13-5ead-a258-20852b7b1262)

Gina felt that her phone call to Sylvie the next morning went well.

Just as she’d been warned, she found that the anxious young woman she spoke to was indeed two steps away from becoming a bridezilla.

Speaking in a slow, calm voice, Gina made arrangements to meet with the woman early the following morning. She promised Sylvie that everything would turn out just the way she wanted, then proceeded to give her a few examples of other weddings she had successfully handled.

Listening, Sylvie seemed to noticeably calm down. She sounded almost eager to look up Gina’s website to read what other brides had posted about their own weddings and how potential disasters-in-the-making had been successfully averted, thanks to a few well-executed efforts.

By the time she hung up, Gina was fairly certain that Sylvie had calmed down sufficiently to be downgraded from the level of “bridezilla” to an almost normal, anxious bride-to-be.

While talking to Sylvie, she’d gotten very specific directions about the kind of multitiered wedding cake the bride and groom had their hearts set on—although she strongly suspected that the groom’s “heart” wasn’t nearly as involved in this choice as the bride’s was. She’d even had to promise Sylvie that she’d stop by the bakery to engage this so-called sought-after cake “artiste” known as Cassidy right after she ended their call.

All in all, Gina thought, pressing the end call button on her cell, this was shaping up to be a really productive day.

But before she did anything else, she decided as she grabbed her purse and her squadron of keys, she needed to stop at Manetti’s Catering. It was only right for her to thank the woman who had sent this new bit of business her way.

Because of its ever-expanding clientele, the catering company had recently moved out of its former rather small, confining quarters to a genuine homey-looking shop where the shop’s homemade pastries and sandwiches-to-go could be properly showcased and also seen through the large bay windows.

Located in the heart of an upscale shopping center, the sight of the food enticed shoppers to come in, sample, and, ideally, be inspired to book a future party ranging from small and intimate to a blow-out bash.

Walking into the shop, Gina was impressed by what she saw and exceedingly pleased that she had managed to catch the attention of someone like Theresa Manetti. She was certain that if she came through for Sylvie, Mrs. Manetti could be counted on to throw more business her way down the line.

It never hurt to network, Gina thought.

“May I help you?” a soft, almost melodic voice asked, coming from behind the counter.

“Hi, I’m Gina Bongino—the professional bridesmaid,” she answered, tagging on her signature label, hoping that would mean something to the older woman.

Coming around the counter, the thin woman with salt-and-pepper hair took her hand in hers. “Gina, what a pleasure to meet you. I’m Theresa Manetti.”

Gina’s first thoughts were that the woman looked just the way she had sounded on the phone last night. Warm and gracious. And genuine.

Gina found herself eager to please the caterer who she had taken an immediate liking to.

Theresa took out a folded piece of paper from her apron pocket. “I’ve written everything down for you,” she told Gina, tucking the paper into her hand. “That’s the baker’s name, phone number, the address of the shop and, of course, the kind of wedding cake Sylvie wants at her wedding.”

Gina glanced at the paper, nodding. “She already described it to me when I talked to her this morning,” she told Theresa.

“Well, it never hurts to have it written down in front of you,” Theresa said with a smile. “I’d take care of this myself,” she told Gina again, “but as I’ve already mentioned to you last night, we are extremely busy these days.”

As if to bear her out, there was continuous noise coming from the back of the shop. Gina guessed that was where the kitchen was located and the woman’s employees were undoubtedly all busy working.

Gina caught herself being very grateful that fate had somehow brought them together. She was sure that Theresa Manetti could throw a little business her way down the line.

“Don’t worry about a thing, Mrs. Manetti,” Gina replied. “I’ll take care of ordering the cake and everything else that I gathered Sylvie needed done.” She tucked away the paper Theresa had handed her into her purse. “I just wanted to come by and say thank you,” she explained.

“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” Theresa told her. “My fees are nonrefundable, so it’s not a matter of my losing money. But I have to admit I get personally involved with all my clients and I really do want them, if at all possible, to come away happy and satisfied.”

Gina could only smile at the woman. It wasn’t often she heard someone espousing something as selfless as that. Again she found herself thinking that she liked Theresa Manetti right from the start.

“I have a feeling that this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship,” she told Theresa, preparing to leave.

“I certainly hope so, dear,” Theresa replied, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “I certainly hope so,” she repeated as the door closed on the departing enterprising bridesmaid for hire.

Following Theresa’s directions, Gina made her way to another, smaller shopping center. This one was located on the far side of Bedford. She briefly entertained the idea of calling ahead but decided against it. She wanted to be there on the premises in case she had to convince this “Cassidy” to accept the order and have it ready by the day of the wedding.

She knew from experience that people who fancied themselves to be “artistes” were, for the most part, temperamental and constantly needed to have their egos stroked. She had learned that stroking was best done in person.

So Gina went over to the Fairview Plaza where the shop was located, parked in the first empty parking space she saw, and set out to find the bakery and this Cassidy who created works of art that could be eaten with a fork.

The store was so small and unassuming, she missed it on her first pass through the center. She was searching for something eye-catching and ostentatious.

The shop, when she found it on her second time around, was neither. It was a small white shop with blue lettering and it was nestled in between a children’s toy store and a trendy store selling overpriced organic fruits and vegetables.

Gina looked over the outside as she stood in front of the entrance. “Well, either ego’s not his problem or the rent’s really cheap here,” she speculated.

There were no hours posted on the door, so she had no idea if it was open or not. Maybe she should have called ahead, she thought.

Trying the doorknob, Gina found that the door was open. Coming in, her entrance was heralded by the light tinkling of an actual bell that was hanging right over the front door rather than a buzzer or a symphony of virtual chimes.

It was almost charming, she thought. Probably to catch the customer off guard so that they wouldn’t think fast enough to protest being hit with an oversize price tag for a cake that could have just as easily been made out of a couple of everyday, standard box mixes.

At first glance, there was no one in the front of the store. She did, however, see a partially closed door that led to what she presumed was the back where “all the magic happened.”

“Hello?” Gina called out, raising her voice slightly. “Is anyone here?”

Listening, she heard movement coming from the back. Maybe it was the person who took the cake orders, she thought. Odd that they didn’t come out when the bell sounded.

When no one came out to the showroom, Gina tried again.