Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Why can’t we just invite less people to the wedding, Miranda?” Tim asked, annoyance heavily lacing his voice.
Miranda turned and glared at her future husband. “Less people? I’m already making an exception by only inviting sixty, and now you want me to cut that in half?”
“You could always invite more to the reception,” I stated from where I was leaning against a wall, trying to stay out of the way. I hated to interfere, but I was feeling sorry for the way Miranda was looking at Tim. I usually kept my thoughts to myself until either the groom or the bride asked for them.
Miranda sighed and then turned to face me. “I want to go and look at the venue you and Landon looked at last weekend; the one you talked about on Instagram.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise before I got my shit together, pushed off the wall, and cleared my throat. “Um, Miranda, that venue is not in your budget.”
The venue Landon and I had visited last weekend was another one of those places my clients didn’t really know about, and so of course I had to see it. After I’d posted the video of our cake tasting—cropping out the part where Landon threw up—everyone begged me to post more about our wedding planning. They loved how real the whole thing was and how I didn’t sugarcoat it to make it seem like everything had gone off without a flaw. It was real life, and people seemed to want real life. They couldn’t get enough of Landon’s humor, or the fact that he had wanted to move it along so he could simply eat the cupcakes. Even the owner of the bakery informed me that people had been stopping by to see the place where Landon Lewis lost his cookies…err, cupcakes…or to put in their own orders for cupcakes—and she had even gotten a few wedding cake orders.
Miranda folded her arms over her chest, and I actually waited for a foot stomp that fortunately never came. “I want to tour the Westington Ballroom.”
“What?!” Tim shouted as he spun around so fast he nearly fell over a pew. “The Westington? Miranda, there is no way we can afford that place.”
I drew in a deep breath and gave the owner of the current venue an apologetic smile. She returned one of her own, probably thinking I would need it with this bride.
The Westington was amazing. Not gonna lie. Even Landon thought it was nice. But it was also five-thousand dollars to rent it for a mere two hours. And that was just the reception hall. The chapel area was a whole other fee, just as expensive. And that didn’t even include the decorations or the food.
“Miranda, I think we need to have a come-to-Jesus moment,” I said with my best mom look. It was the phrase I tried not to use unless it was absolutely necessary. And by the way Tim was pulling at the collar of his shirt and turning white, this was one of those moments.
“To rent the reception area is five-thousand dollars for two hours. And that’s only to rent it. It’s another fee to use the chapel for one hour. Then you have all your catering fees, your decorating costs, the cakes, the dress, the tux, the honeymoon. Do you really want to pour every last dime into a venue that’s above your budget and, honestly, isn’t as beautiful as this place?”
Okay, it was way nicer than this place, but again…it was not in her budget.
“You told me when you first sat down in my office that you wanted a small, intimate wedding. I can pull out my notes if you need to be reminded that you originally told me no more than fifty people because you and Tim really wanted a nice honeymoon. If the chapel is a problem, we can lift the sides up and make it more indoor-outdoor.” I glanced over at the owner. “How many more people can we fit if we open it up to the outdoors?”
The owner smiled. “By making it an indoor-outdoor chapel, we can put out fifty-five chairs.”
Miranda let out a sigh. “That’s still five seats less than what we need.”
“You’re counting your bridal party, Miranda. They don’t sit at the ceremony,” I stated with a sweet smile.
Her eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh! That’s right! They don’t!” Turning, Miranda looked at Tim. “This place is perfect!”
When she ran and jumped into his arms, he mouthed “thank you” and closed his eyes as if saying his own internal prayer. I looked back at the owner, who lifted her brows and tried not to laugh or roll her eyes. It was one or the other.
After helping Miranda and Tim get their venue taken care of, we made plans to meet in three weeks for the cake tasting at, of course, Sweet Confections bakery.