fantasy.
Maybe she was exactly what he needed to get the inside track on Neil. And to stop his sister from potentially making the biggest mistake of her life.
Chapter Six
IF THERE WAS ONE thing a wedding planner learned to master early on in her career, it was the gape-mouthed reaction to a really fabulous venue. Nothing was a larger vote of confidence to the client than a planner who swooned openly with the bride and groom over the lavishness of a beachfront villa, a perfectly manicured garden, or an honest-to-God castle.
But whereas Brooke had become mostly immune to all of the most elite reception sites in the Los Angeles area over the years, and so at least some of her boundless enthusiasm for every site was a bit feigned, New York was still very new to her.
And so it took every bit of self-control she had not to whip out her cell phone and take a picture of the Starlight Observatory that she was currently showing to Maya, because it was exactly the type of view that belonged on Instagram.
“So what do you think?” Brooke said as she forced herself to turn away from the floor-to-ceiling windows and smile at her bride and groom. “Keep in mind that this is the first one, so there’s no obligation. This will just give us a starting point so you can start to get a sense of what sort of vibe you’re looking for.”
She watched as Maya turned in a slow circle, chewing her bottom lip as she took it all in. Maya was dressed in a pale pink sweaterdress and cream-colored knee-high suede boots that she somehow managed to make look Manhattan-chic instead of go-go-girl revival.
Brooke for her part was also feeling pretty damn fabulous. She’d dragged Heather out shopping the weekend before, demanding to be schooled in the art of looking good and staying warm. Turns out that was a bit of a unicorn in New York fashion. You could be warm or cute, not both, not truly.
Brooke had opted for cute. Naturally. But with Heather’s help, she’d at least taken a step in the right direction toward surviving the East Coast winters. The socks were key, she’d learned. She’d tripled her boot collection courtesy of Stuart Weitzman, and her socks were now all thick, ugly affairs that nobody would ever see but that did a reasonable job of warding off frostbite.
The most important upgrade was the coat. Turns out puffy down coats could be fashionable, and Brooke had happily given her credit card a workout to splurge on a white puffer coat with a gorgeous fur trim and a leopard-print belt.
Slowly but surely she was starting to feel like a real New Yorker.
“I like it,” Maya said, pursing her lips. “But I’m worried that it’s not different enough. I’ve already had two friends get married here, and it feels a little done, you know?”
Brooke nodded in understanding, fully prepared for this. She’d discovered that for most brides, there was no worse fate for a wedding than to have been done before. This was especially true the higher you went in the society food chain, and Maya was at the tippy-top.
“Absolutely,” Brooke said, making a note in her planner. “Of course, if that’s your main concern, I’m confident that we can make any site completely your own—with the right theme, the right vibe, we can make people forget that they’ve been here before.”
Maya glanced at her curiously. “What are you thinking?”
Brooke opened her mouth to launch into her pitch when Neil crossed from where he’d been inspecting the far side of the room. “It’s too small.”
Maya wrinkled her nose at him. “What do you mean too small?”
“Well this fits what, two hundred people?” Neil asked, glancing at Brooke.
She nodded in confirmation. “Two hundred for a seated dinner.”
He was already shaking his head as he placed a hand on Maya’s back. “We need something bigger.”
Maya let out a little laugh, but Brooke thought she saw just the slightest strain around the other woman’s smile. “Really? How many people were you thinking?”
He glanced down at her, his handsome face the picture of confusion. “I was just assuming you’d want a big wedding.”
“Two hundred is a big wedding.”
“Sure, it’s good-sized, but you’re a Tyler, sweetling. Half the city is going to want to see you get hitched. Plus, the press, and the—”
“Whoa,” Maya said, holding up a hand. “No press.”
Uh-oh. Brooke smiled politely and took a step back. “I’ll give you two a moment to