The wedding planner huffed, saying something to a servant nearby. OK, lady, Olivia thought, I might not have vampire super-hearing, but I’m not blind!
An older woman with frizzy grey hair approached the wedding planner, toting a large wicker basket. Olivia recognised her from the big greenhouse yesterday – it was Horatio’s crush! And she had quite the green thumb, it seemed. Olivia marvelled at the flowers overflowing from the basket. The woman had grown some extra special ones for the occasion, it seemed. Olivia held the viewfinder up to her eye and zoomed in for a better look. They truly were spectacular, so much so that she didn’t even recognise the different types of flowers. She stared at the purple, magenta, cream and aqua hues. They weren’t like roses or daffodils or lilies. They weren’t like anything she had ever seen. Not that Olivia was surprised. With all those hundreds of years’ practice, vampires were advanced at practically everything they did – even horticulture!
The wedding planner pinched a stem between two fingers and twirled it in front of her nose. ‘No.’ She tossed that one over her shoulder and selected a different flower. ‘No.’ A flurry of petals, like a rainbow storm, fell on to the floor. ‘No, no, no! Too much colour!’ she screamed, accidentally stomping on a gorgeous amethyst bloom. ‘These are entirely wrong! Don’t come back until you have something suitable.’ She shooed the gardener away and Olivia felt her eyes grow wide. She must really be out-of-touch with vampire fashion because she thought those flowers had been absolutely stunning! The gardener lifted her chin, snatched back her basket and strode off. Olivia felt bad for her – she could bet it took months to cultivate such perfect blooms.
‘Excuse me, Madam?’ A servant girl in a white frock tapped the wedding planner’s arm. ‘Where will the band be positioned? We would like to clear a space.’
The wedding planner tugged at the ends of her hair. ‘Band? There will be no band!’ She rested her forehead in her palm and shook her head vigorously. When she resurfaced, her face was so pink it looked as if she’d run a mile. ‘There will be exactly one pianist – there – in the corner.’ Olivia was relieved when the woman didn’t single out her corner. ‘Simple and direct.’ The wedding planner gave a short nod. ‘None of this grand nonsense everyone does at weddings. We may be vampires, but that does not mean we need to be over-the-top.’
Olivia wanted to tell her that it sort of did. They were, after all, hosting the wedding of the century – in a mansion. This was not the time to be skimping with one measly pianist!
‘Besides,’ the woman went on, pursing her lips, ‘for youngsters like Alex and Tessa, this will simply be their first wedding. They can go over-the-top with their second and third ones!’
Olivia gasped. Of all the people to be so cynical, it was the wedding planner? By rights she ought to be one of the most romantic people on earth. In fact, thought Olivia, her face growing hot, she should be making every effort to ensure that this is the most wonderful day ever for Alex and Tessa. She’s acting more like a Wedding Witch than a Wedding Planner!
And if the Wedding Witch got her way, Tessa and Alex would be getting married in a blandly decorated Great Hall with only one man on the piano to serenade them. Now, Olivia knew her taste was skewed a little pinker than the rest of the vampire world’s, but no colour at all? She glanced at the crushed petals on the floor. At this rate, there were going to be no flowers at this wedding whatsoever. That’s about as wrong as wearing socks with sandals! And wait, Tessa had even said she wanted the wedding day to be filled with flowers!
It was time for Olivia to do something. She took a step out from her corner, planning to give her opinion as diplomatically as possible, when she felt a soft touch on her shoulder. She jumped. It was one of the servants, tall and ghostly pale, with a fabulous bright-red pixie haircut that Olivia knew she could never have pulled off. The vampire looked young – though it was hard for Olivia to tell an adult vampire’s age – and she held a spool of black satin ribbon that she’d been looping along the hall’s walls.
‘Don’t get involved,’ the vampire said. ‘Trust me.’
Olivia double-checked that the wedding planner was still ranting away so that she could whisper without fear of being overheard. ‘But someone has to stop her or else she’s going to ruin everything. Why is she even a wedding planner if she hates romance so much?’
The Pixie Vampire leaned closer. ‘She’s not usually like this.’
Olivia looked back at the wedding planner. The black clothes, the sombre decorations, the lone pianist – she seemed to be taking anything romantic and doing the exact opposite . . . as if she was making a statement . . .
‘What’s the wedding planner’s name?’ she asked Pixie Vampire, feeling an idea bubbling in her brain.
‘Her name’s Lucia. But I’m telling you, if you get in her way, she’ll eat you for breakfast.’ Pixie Vampire sniffed Olivia. ‘With you, maybe literally.’
Olivia shuddered. It wasn’t easy being the only human in a room full of vampires. Olivia took a breath and walked up the aisle. She gently linked her arm through Lucia’s stony vampire arm, drawing her close. ‘I love your idea for the lone pianist,’ she said. ‘It’s just so classy. And who can argue with the timeless appeal of black?’ Lucia gave a thin smile, bowing her head graciously. ‘But do you think that you’re in danger of making the day look slightly . . . mournful? Lone pianists always remind me of that film where the actress plays a heartbroken woman, sitting on her own in the ball room where she was due to get married.’ She looked long and hard at Lucia. ‘It must be awful for someone to feel like that.’
Lucia turned her head away and Olivia heard a muffled sob. ‘Come here,’ Olivia said, drawing the wedding planner to her in a hug. To her surprise, Lucia didn’t pull away, but buried her head in Olivia’s shoulder.
‘I just wasn’t expecting it!’ she said in a muffled voice.
‘I know, I know,’ Olivia said, comforting her.
‘How did you guess?’ Lucia asked, pulling back to look into Olivia’s face.
‘I could tell by the way you were fidgeting and touching the ring finger of your left hand. There was a ring on there until very recently, wasn’t there?’