Gemma gave a curt nod and gestured for Elly to sit down. Elly sat gently, a button on her jacket popping open. Gemma leaned over them, her lean figure practically draped over Elly. “So, I just need to film you two talking, but the conversation will be dubbed and narrated later. On the show, we’ll have Lola talking about her vision with the different vendors. So, I just need you guys to talk for about five minutes to get the footage, okay? It doesn’t matter what you talk about.” Lola and Elly nodded, reluctant children listening to a bossy teacher. Gemma waved her finger in a circle. “You ready?” Greg, the handsome cameraman gave a thumbs-up. “Oh, and Lola, can you take off your sunglasses?”
“Oh, of course, I forgot they were on.” Lola gave a small, girlish laugh, like the tinkling of broken glass. She removed her Prada glasses slowly and set them down the table. Behind her huge, brown eyes, fringed with dark lashes, there was a deep exhaustion, the kind of exhaustion that Elly didn’t think she had ever known. Dark-purple circles, almost bruising, ran just under her bottom lash. Lola was wearing a lot of makeup—Elly hadn’t noticed it before. Still, Lola had that aching, movie-star loveliness about her. Her small pink mouth quivered slightly.
Gemma cried, “Action!” They were on.
Elly turned to Lola, laying her hands flat upon the glass table. She hoped Lola didn’t notice the heat from her palms was fogging up the glass. “So, uh, wow! You’re here. You must be so excited to get married!”
Lola nodded solemnly. “Yes, it’s been quick planning. We were going to wait awhile before the wedding, but BlissBride really wanted us for their upcoming season.”
Elly suddenly realized that not only was she going to be on BlissBride, but that this particular wedding was probably the season finale. Oh. Getting Lola Plumb, the train wreck heard around the world, was probably ratings gold. “I, um….” Elly was at a loss. She had no idea that Lola Plumb was dating, let alone engaged. “I’m sorry, who is your fiancé?” Elly heard Gemma utter an adorable British curse word.
Lola smiled—a display of blinding white teeth—and bit her lip awkwardly. “That’s okay. We just met a little while ago. His name is Joe Keats.”
Elly had never heard of him. She voiced this sentiment, embarrassed. Lola seemed unfazed as she scratched her nose. “Thank you for not pretending to know who he is. That’s refreshing. He’s not famous. He’s actually the son of Roland Keats, the owner of the hotels?”
Ah, thought Elly, Keats Hotels. There was one in practically every major city in the US. He was probably loaded. She was marrying an heir. How fitting.
“Yes. He’s sort of famous, I guess, but not really. We’d been together for about two months when he proposed at his parents’ ski lodge in Park City about four weeks ago.”
Elly vaguely remembered seeing a picture of Lola in a ski-bunny outfit, a wine bottle in hand, her arm wrapped around a chubby, redheaded man. So that was Joe. She had assumed he was a fan. “How wonderful!” she replied cheerily. “May I ask, why are you getting married in St. Louis?”
Lola gave a grin. “Well, it’s where we met. I was here for a publicity stunt for Crown Royal, and it just happened to be at one of his hotels. We met in the hallway, and he helped me back to my room. I threw up on him, and he still slept on the couch in the room. In the morning, we had breakfast.”
That’s terrible, thought Elly, and terribly sweet.
“Also, we love the arch.”
Elly held back a smile. Any St. Louisan worth their spit knew that the arch was overrated.
Lola looked down as a pink blush spread up her lightly freckled face. “Plus, Joe felt like there would be less paparazzi out here than in LA. We can hardly go anywhere without being photographed.”
That’s probably because you have a habit of throwing your purse or panties at them. Elly looked up at Lola with a sympathetic smile. “That must be hard.” Then why are you going on BlissBride?
Lola raised her lashes a tad before burying half her face into her dog’s white fur. Her left eye was twitching. “It is. You have no idea. I’m only doing BlissBride because my agent said it would help rehab my image.” She shrugged. “And the cash isn’t bad, either.”
“Okay, that’s a wrap!” snapped Gemma. She must have heard Lola. Her shrill, European pitch was hard on Elly’s eardrums as she unbuttoned Elly’s shirt and pulled off the sticky microphone from her ample chest.
“Ouch!” yelped Elly.
“You’re welcome,” said Gemma without actually looking at her, as she gently removed Lola’s mic. “Great job, Lola! You look fantastic! This is going to be our best show ever.”
Lola gave a gloomy smile. “I’m sure.”
Elly stood and reached out her hand to help Lola to her feet. Her hands are so tiny, thought Elly. She’s really just a girl. “I’m sure we will see each other soon.”
Gemma butted between them. “You will. You two have your consultation off-screen together, sometime in the next month.” She chugged from a coffee thermos, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. It was all very unladylike, and made Elly like her more. “Then we’ll be back to film the designing process, the delivery, and the wedding day. Later, we’ll get you to do some voiceover work.”