Marie Ferrarella - Bridesmaid For Hire

“Hold on to your hat, Maizie. This is about to get even better,” Theresa promised.

“All right, consider my hat held. How does this get even better?” Maizie asked.

She could almost hear Theresa smiling from ear to ear as she asked, “You know that young man Anna felt was so perfect for her daughter?”

“I remember. Shane Callaghan,” Maizie recalled. “What about him?”

Theresa paused dramatically, then said, “Well, I found him.”

“What do you mean you ‘found’ him?” Maizie asked suspiciously.

“Well, actually Celia did,” Theresa amended. “He’s a client of hers,” she explained. “The fact is, ‘Shane’ has been using another name for his line of work.”

This was all very mysterious to Maizie. “The point, Theresa. Get to the point,” she told her friend impatiently.

That was when Theresa dropped her little bombshell. “It turns out that Shane Callaghan has a vocation that ties right into our little scenario. The man designs cakes—including wedding cakes—for a living—and he’s very much in demand.”

“Wouldn’t Gina know this, seeing that she’s in the business of placating jittery brides-to-be?” Maizie asked.

“That’s where the pseudonym comes in. Shane is an ‘artiste’ known as Cassidy. His bakery is called Cakes Created by Cassidy.”

She’d heard of it, Maizie realized. One of her clients had remarked that their son had ordered a cake from this “Cassidy.” At the time she’d thought nothing of it.

“Really?” Maizie asked.

“Guess who I’m going to suggest to our bride to ‘create’ her wedding cake for her reception?” Theresa posed the rhetorical question almost gleefully.

This was playing it close, Maizie thought. “You said the wedding was in three weeks. Are you sure you can get him?”

“Absolutely,” Theresa answered confidently. “It turns out that my son’s law firm did some legal work for Cassidy a few months ago. It pays to have lunch with your offspring occasionally,” she added, although she knew that none of them needed an excuse to get together with their children. Family had always been what this was all about for them, Theresa thought. “That’s how I found out who Cassidy really is. It actually is a small world, Maizie,” she declared happily. “Now all we need is to get Gina on the scene.”

“Well, like I said,” Maizie reminded her friend, “her mother just called me and said that Gina has nothing scheduled after this weekend’s wedding.”

“She does now,” Theresa said happily. “I’d better get on the phone and talk to Sylvie—that’s the bride-to-be—while she’s still coherent. Her maid of honor said she was afraid that Sylvie was going to wind up calling the whole thing off.”

“Something that she’ll wind up regretting,” Maizie predicted. “By all means, Theresa, call her. Tell her about Gina, that she can step in at the last minute and put out any fires that might arise. And then,” she concluded, “you’re going to have to call Gina.”

“All right,” Theresa agreed a bit uncertainly. “But why can’t you call her?” she asked. After all Maizie was the one with a connection to the girl via Gina’s mother.

“I’m a real estate agent, Theresa,” Maizie reminded her friend. “There’s no reason for me to know about a professional bridesmaid, whereas you, as a caterer with a multitude of wedding receptions to your credit, you could know about her through regular channels. Word of mouth, that kind of thing. If I called her up out of the blue with this offer, I’d have to admit to knowing her mother because how else would I know what she does for a living? She’d smell a rat and politely refuse. Or maybe not so politely,” Maizie added.

“Goodness, this matchmaking hobby of ours has certainly gotten more complicated than it was back in the old days, hasn’t it?” Theresa marveled.

“I know, but that’s also part of the fun,” Maizie reminded her friend. “Now stop talking to me and get on the phone to Gina and then to—what did you say was the bride-to-be’s name?”

“Sylvie.”

“Tell Sylvie you know just the person to step in and wind up saving her day,” Maizie told her.

“Wait,” Theresa cried, sensing that Maizie was about to hang up.

“What?”

“I need Gina’s phone number,” she told Maizie. “I can’t tell Sylvie about this professional bridesmaid and then not have a phone number to pass on to her if she asks for it,” Theresa pointed out. “Plus I’ll need it myself if I’m going to set Gina up.”

“Sorry,” Maizie apologized as she retrieved the phone number from the file on her computer. “I guess I just got excited for a minute,” she explained. “I love it when a plan comes together.”

“So now we’re the A-Team?” Theresa asked with an amused laugh. She was referring to an old television program she used to watch while waiting up for her workaholic lawyer husband to come home.

“The what?” Maizie asked, clearly not familiar with the program.

“Never mind about that right now. Just remind me that I have an old DVD to play for you when we all get a few minutes to ourselves.”

“Will do,” Maizie promised. “But right now, I’m going to remind you that you have two phone calls to make. Possibly three,” she amended.

“Three? How do you figure that?” Theresa asked her friend. “Do you want me to call you back once I get Gina and Sylvie?”

“Well, of course I want you to call me back to tell me how it all went. And then,” Maizie continued, thinking out loud, “we have to come up with a way to have Gina and Shane get together before the big day. Maybe you can have Gina helping you with the arrangements, kind of like an assistant, and being a go-between for you and this ‘in-demand baker.’ And then, we can hope that there are sparks.”

“A go-between?” Theresa questioned.

“We’ll work on it,” Maizie promised. “Now go, call while Gina’s still free,” she instructed her friend just before she hung up.

Chapter Two

Gina carefully hung up the light blue bridesmaid dress in her guest bedroom closet. The dress joined the vast and growing collection of other bridesmaid dresses, both long and short, that she had worn as part of the various bridal parties she’d been in. Because she had come in and in effect—at least in the bride’s eyes—saved the wedding, she’d ultimately grown incredibly close to a number of the brides, not an easy feat in the space of two or three weeks.

Some of the brides had actually stayed in touch with her, at least for a little while. The others, though, had faded into the calendar of her life.

Even so, Gina had the satisfaction of knowing that because of her, more than a few women had experienced “the happiest day of their life” without having to endure the proverbial “glitch” that had a nasty habit of cropping up.

And despite what her mother thought of her rather unusual vocation, it did provide her with a nice living. In exchange for her services, she received more than ample compensation as well as another dress to hang in her closet, thanks to the bride, and, after the ceremony had ended and the photographs were taken, there was always a wonderful array of catered food to sample.

Not that she really ate all that much of it. Despite working almost nonstop in the weeks preceding the weddings, on the big day she never seemed to have that much of an appetite. It was almost as if she was channeling the bride’s prewedding jitters even though she always appeared utterly calm and in complete control of the situation.

She supposed that was where her very brief flirtation with acting—or at least acting in her college plays—came in handy.