Marrying Mr. Right by Cathy Tully

Vinnie screaming; her yelling back. “Don’t you dare yell at me! I never could depend on you! Why I gave you something as important as this is beyond me!”
    “Tell Antoine I’ll bring it to his office later.”
    “Okay!” she shouted and disconnected the call.
    “Mrs. Modesto, I need the permit.”
    She nodded. “Mr. Modesto had a problem with the town, but promises to bring it to you this afternoon.”
    Antoine rolled his eyes in disdain. “I suppose that will have to do.”
    Missy bit her lip. The constant drilling and loud voices from the moving men from the living and dining rooms only hyped the ache looming behind both eyes. Hugo’s scratching at the garage door sounded like a jackhammer on speed.
    “Antoine,” she said through gritted teeth.
    “He will be done momentarily,” the planner said, then shouted an order at Michael. The drilling ceased, but an endless stream of workers trooped in with small round bistro style tables and matching chairs, placing them at various spots throughout the living and dining rooms. After one look around, Missy doubted there would be enough seating for all the guests. More than one cleansing breath failed to calm her. If Vinnie were here, she’d punch him. Hard.
    A hand clamped on her shoulder. Whirling, Missy prepared herself to take the person’s head off. Antoine said, “Perhaps you should sit.”
    “Huh?”
    “You’re flushed. Too much excitement for one day I think. Why don’t you treat yourself to a massage? I have the perfect person. You will feel like you died and went to heaven.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet overflowing with business cards.
    “No, thank you. Someone touching any part of my body is the last thing I need, Antoine.”
    He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you should try and enjoy today’s peacefulness since the wedding is tomorrow.”
    All of a sudden the workers began to file out. The last one said something to Antoine as he passed her. The wedding planner nodded then followed, closing the door behind him.
    Finally. Silence.
    In celebration, the first thing Missy did was to liberate Hugo in from the garage. The poor thing, panting and confused, ambled toward the kitchen no doubt for a drink of cold water. Missy followed. She could use a glass of iced tea.
    At the doorway, she stopped. They’d taken her kitchen table and chairs and replaced it with a stingy folding table! At that moment, the phone rang. She snatched it up, thoughts of murder high on her wish list. “What?”
    Val asked, “Are they gone?”
    Looking around the room, the near empty room, she said, “Finally.”
    “Do you want to grab some lunch after you pick up your suit?”
    Oh, crap. The wedding suit. Missy made a frantic glance at the clock on the wall, which read eleven thirty. The seamstress shop closed at noon.
    “Pick up your suit then meet me at Maddy’s.”
    The small deli and boutique teashop in the heart of Lighthouse Bay was one of their favorite places for lunch as it offered basic salads and soups, all light fare. And that was good, because Missy couldn’t look or feel bloated tomorrow. She glanced down at Hugo, who now lay at her feet. “I have one more thing to do after the suit.”
    “Oh, right. The dog.”
    “Yup.”
    Hugo’s head spun around to look at her. Missy turned her back to him. “I swear he has radar and knows when I’m talking about him.”
    Val laughed. “Do you need help getting him into the car? I know how much he hates being boarded.”
    “No. I think I’ll be okay. See you at Maddy’s in about half an hour.”
    After patting her hip, Hugo followed her to the staircase in the hallway. She sat on the second step to fasten his harness and leash in place. “Listen, buddy, I know you don’t understand, but I have to drop you at Dr. Reed’s.” At the sound of the veterinarian’s name, Hugo’s tail wagged. “Yes, I know you like her, so do I, but you won’t be coming home with me today or