Jaine Austen 7 - Killing Bridezilla by Laura Levine Read Free Book Online Page B

corkscrew? Haven’t they ever heard of screw top wine?
    A snooty blond salesclerk rang up my purchase.
    “You’re giving this as a wedding gift? A crummy corkscrew?”
    Okay, what she really said was Cash or Charge?, but I could read the subtitles.
    But I didn’t care what she or anybody else thought of me. So what if my gift was the cheapest one at the wedding? My fiancé, at least, would be the hottest.

    Chapter 6
    Ispent the next few days frantically faxing Patti different versions of the script. I rewrote Romeo and Juliet as Seinfeld and Elaine, as Ray and Debra Romano, as Lucy and Ricky Ricardo. Okay, I exaggerate. But not by much. Finally, when I was pulling out my hair at the roots, Patti told me she’d decided to go back to Shakespeare’s Elizabethan English—that she wanted to be “true to the times.”
    At this stage of the game I didn’t give a flying frisbee what this maniac wanted. I tossed a few
    “haths” and “thees” in my original script and faxed it to her. Five minutes later she called me, and miracle of miracles: She actually liked it. I was free at last!
    Well, not quite.
    “I want you to come the wedding rehearsal tomorrow,” she commanded, “in case there are any last-minute tweaks.”
    Oh, for crying out loud. Enough was enough.
    No way was I going to her stupid wedding rehearsal. With all the versions of the scripts I’d sent her, I’d more than earned my salary. If she wanted any tweaks, she could write them herself. I’d just tell her No, plain and simple.

    54
    Laura Levine
    Yeah, right. You know me, the original spineless wonder. The words that actually came out of my mouth were, “Sure, Patti. No problem.”
    When I stepped out onto the Devane patio the next day, the air was filled with the sounds of hammering and power drills. I looked over and saw a small army of workmen installing a massive party tent on the grounds behind the pool.
    Off to the side, on the velvety green lawn beneath the balcony, a few rows of white wooden folding chairs had been set up for the wedding rehearsal. And scattered across the lawn were those statues of Cupid Patti said she’d be ordering—chubby marble cherubs with bare bottoms and arrows poised in the air.
    Which just goes to show that all the money in the world can’t buy good taste.
    Denise was sitting on one of the folding chairs, chatting with the bridesmaid-for-hire, the lovely Swedish model I’d seen the other day. Cheryl sat next to them, having traded her polyester sweats for a polyester pantsuit, staring glumly into space.
    What, I wondered, was she doing here, after having been so unceremoniously banished from the wedding party?
    Across the aisle, Dickie chatted with a stunning man, a bronzed Adonis of breathtaking proportions. For a fleeting instant, I wondered if Patti had ordered a best man to go with her bridesmaid-for-hire.
    Seated next to Dickie was a middle-aged couple. I could tell right away they were his parents.
    Mainly because I heard him call them “Mom”
    and “Dad.”

    KILLING BRIDEZILLA
    55
    Dickie’s father was an older version of Dickie.
    Same wide smile, same lanky physique. His mother, a stocky woman with a round face and thick, blunt-cut, graying hair, sat with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her jaw clenched.
    Like Cheryl, she did not seem to be the happiest of campers.
    I started across the lawn to join the wedding party when Patti suddenly came storming out of the tent, followed by her mother and stepfather.
    “This is impossible!” she screamed, heading in my direction.
    Oh, phooey. She wasn’t happy with the script!
    Bridezilla wanted another rewrite.
    I seriously considered turning around and making a break for it, to hell with the three grand, when I heard her whine:
    “Damn those workmen. They should’ve been finished hours ago. We can’t have a rehearsal with that racket going on.”
    Her stepfather put a comforting arm around her. “Now, honey,” I heard him say, “the guys