A few minutes after I sat down, I heard the sound of heels hitting the tiled floor, coming from the direction of the elevator and so I raised my head, subconsciously to look at the person who was coming towards me.

Rosalie Darling was walking in my direction, wearing a simple black dress and black heels, her hair done up in an elegant updo. She had a clipboard in her hand and a Bluetooth earpiece in her ear.

I stood up from my chair, almost instinctively and she came to a slow halt near me.

"Mr. Carlisle," she smiled, sweetly, "Fancy meeting you here."

"Aiden, please," I reminded, "I'm here for a business luncheon. You?"

She raised her clipboard. "The business of weddings. The wedding is pretty much over, though. Everyone's just dancing and having a good time now."

She gestured to the hall out of which music, chatter and laughter were trickling.

"A success, I assume," I said, conversationally.

She raised her eyebrows and sighed. "It's not over until the fat lady sings," she told me.

"What else is there to do if the wedding is over?" I asked.

She motioned for me to walk with her towards the entrance to the hall. "Well, there's developing the pictures and making an album. Before that, of course, the couple must send out their thank-you notes to all the attendees. The bride must have her dress cleaned and preserved, the cake must be frozen for the first anniversary, all the vendors must be reviewed and paid, all the leftover decorations and party favours must be returned or repurposed or something, return all the rental items and the list goes on," she listed, almost out of breath.

I raised my eyebrows, coming to a stop right outside the hall. "And you help with all that?"

She shrugged. "The service is all inclusive, so I at the very least advise them on what needs to be done. The people getting married shouldn't have their experience marred by having to worry about small things. That's why they hire a wedding planner."

I looked into the hall. I could see the bride and groom dancing with their family inside. People were milling around the tables, talking and laughing. There were kids asleep on chairs. The decorations were beautiful. All the trimmings and decorations were blue, gold and white and it looked like everything was underwater.

"This is all beautiful," I complimented her.

She smiled and nodded.

"You'll be helping Caroline with all of this, too?" I asked.

She turned to me. "I'll be helping you both. You're both getting married."

"Right," I nodded, vaguely. "Do you like what you do, Ms. Darling?"

"I love it," she sighed, happily, looking at the couple dancing in each other's arms, "I love the order of everything. The world for them may be in chaos, but I can make it easy and neat and tidy. I've always loved weddings and this way I get to bring everyone's dream wedding alive."

Not many people in my acquaintance loved what they did with the same passion Rosalie seemed to. It was an admirable trait.

I looked at her profile. She was smiling, joyfully, looking at her creation, the ski slope of her nose ending in a delicately upturned tip, like she was an animated Princess. Her bright blue eyes were lit up with happiness. Her hair that sat on the crown of her head had loosened, probably over the work of the day and pieces fell all around her face, but in an elegant manner.

I cleared my throat and looked away, not wanting to ogle woman when I was betrothed to another.

"Not many people like what they do," I told her.

"Do you? Do you like what you do?" Rosalie asked me, clutching her clipboard to her chest.

I thought for a moment about my working conditions, what I did and the people I worked with. A small, inadvertent smile came on to my face. "Yeah," I replied, "I do. I get to meet people and see their dreams come true, too. It's a good place to be in."

Rosalie smiled at me, a sincere and happy smile, without any hidden agendas and it warmed my heart. "That's nice."

"It is," I nodded.

"Well, Mr. Carlisle, Aiden, it was nice to see you," Rosalie said, stepping away from me, "I'll see you at the meeting on Wednesday."

"Yeah, see you," I replied and she was gone, disappearing into the hall.

I walked back to my seat, pulling out my phone and sat down. I opened the web browser and typed in the name "Rosalie Darling".

Thousands of results greeted me. There was a Wikipedia page about her being the wedding planner to the stars and it told the story of an accomplished girl who had won dozens of awards for her planning skills.

She had started her own company at the age of twenty-four after having worked for a well-renowned wedding planner for six years. She had built her company from the ground up and it now had a very high net worth.

I was impressed. From our first meeting, I had realized that she was smart and savvy, but I didn't know of her accolades.

I scrolled through hundreds of pictures of the weddings she had done, which were nothing short of beautiful and tasteful and dozens and dozens of positive reviews about the experiences various couples had with her. There wasn't, however, any mention of her personal life.

I raised my head and looked towards the hall. Rosalie was standing at the entrance, giving instructions to a waiter.

She was beautiful, no doubt. She was shorter than Caroline, but still tall. She had light, golden brown hair and bright, blue eyes. She carried herself with dignity and importance, and the clothes that she wore suited her and fit her well. Caroline always wore name brands, but Rosalie seemed to opt for well-made garments, regardless of their brand.

She smiled easily and had an aura of being in charge.

She seemed to be able to get people to do what she said with the respect she commanded, rather than by flirtation or coyness, like Caroline.

I shook my head, trying to shake the feelings of undermining my fiancée, got up and walked away from Rosalie, back to my luncheon.


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