Chapter 5 - The Rehearsal Disaster
The Friday night rehearsal at Grandview Manor was an unmitigated catastrophe.
Although Lena and I were not attending, I received minute-by-minute updates from Mark, the general manager of Grandview Manor, who reported directly to me.
I sat on my back porch in the cool evening air, sipping tea while Lena painted a canvas inside. My tablet sat on the small glass table beside me, displaying the internal security feed and manager logs from the estate.
At 6:30 PM, the wedding party arrived.
Without Lena’s master timeline, half the bridal party showed up forty-five minutes late. The two new flower girls—the Sterling and Vance daughters—were throwing tantrums near the grand staircase because Camille had demanded they rehearse walking in high-heeled shoes they detested.
At 7:00 PM, Arthur Vance and Harrison Sterling arrived at the venue, looking furious.
On the live video feed, I watched Arthur Vance corner Ethan Whitmore in the grand foyer.
"What the hell is going on with your firm, Whitmore?!" Vance’s voice echoed through the high ceilings, captured by the facility's ambient audio monitors. "Apex Harbor Capital just frozen all our joint development permits! My lawyers received a formal notice that your firm is under investigation for material misrepresentation on your financial applications!"
Ethan was sweating profusely, waving his arms in panic. "Mr. Vance, please! It’s a temporary administrative glitch! North Coast Regional is clearing it up!"
"It’s not a glitch!" Harrison Sterling snapped, stepping into the frame. "I spoke to the executive VP of North Coast an hour ago! The order to freeze your line came directly from the primary owner of the bank! Someone high up in Apex Harbor wants your skin, Ethan! And because I backed your loan application, my seat on the board is now under investigation!"
Vivian Whitmore stepped in, trying to play peacemaker. "Gentlemen, please! This is a sacred weekend! My son is marrying a wonderful girl—"
"I don't give a damn about the wedding!" Arthur Vance roared. "My company stands to lose twenty million dollars because I trusted your incompetent son! Girls, get your coats! We’re leaving!"
Vance grabbed his daughter by the arm. Harrison Sterling did the same.
Camille came running down the aisle in her rehearsal dress, her face red and blotchy. "No! Wait! Mr. Vance! Mr. Sterling! The girls are supposed to be in the processional! They’re the flower girls!"
Arthur Vance turned on Camille with a look of pure venom. "My daughter is not standing in a wedding for a family that is about to go bankrupt!"
They walked out, slamming the heavy mahogany front doors of Grandview Manor behind them.
Camille collapsed onto a bench, sobbing hysterically.
My parents immediately rushed to her side. My mother began screaming at the venue coordinator, demanding to know why the staff wasn't fixing the crisis.
Mark, the general manager, stepped forward calmly, holding his digital tablet. "Ma'am, our staff is contracted to provide venue management, not personal crisis intervention. Furthermore, because your final vendor settlement fees for the lighting and floral adjustments were not authorized by the deadline yesterday, those services have been suspended."
"Where is the emergency setup box?!" Camille screamed through her tears. "There were supposed to be emergency supplies! Who has the master contact list?!"
Mark looked down at his tablet, his expression unreadable. "According to our pre-event notes, the master logistics binder was managed by Ms. Lena Carter. When she was removed from the event roster three days ago, those files were archived. We do not have access to them."
My father stood up, his face purple with rage. "This is Brenna’s doing! She’s doing this on purpose! I’m calling her right now!"
On my porch four miles away, my phone began ringing.
I looked at the caller ID: Dad.
I let it ring until it went to voicemail.
I tapped the screen, opening the voicemail transcript three seconds later. My father’s voice was shaking with anger:
"Brenna, you bring Lena and those boxes to Grandview Manor right now, or don't bother showing up tomorrow! You are ruining your sister's life! You are an arrogant, selfish daughter, and I am disgusted by you!"
I deleted the voicemail.
I closed my tablet, stood up, and walked inside.
Lena was sitting at the kitchen island, holding a paintbrush dipped in bright yellow paint. She looked up at me with her wide, clear hazel eyes.
"Mom?" she asked softly.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Are you okay?"
May you like
I walked over, wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and kissed the top of her head.
"I’m better than okay, my love," I whispered. "Tomorrow, you and I are going to have the best day of our lives."
