Page 2 of Rules of Engagement

I laughed. "We aren't being very helpful, are we?" I asked.

Francesca rounded the back of my chair and pulled out the vacant chair, settling herself not quite opposite and not quite between us. "Lexi, Solomon, I don't want to rush you into any decisions. You haven't set the date yet so we have lots of time to work out all the finer details. When you do decide on a date, everything else will just fall into place. Things will start to stand out, a favorite choice will rise from the options I gave you or you'll see something you want and I'll make it happen; and that's what we'll go with. Remember, although you want the wedding day to be perfect in every way, the wedding day is just the fun stuff; it's the marriage that's most important."

"There're just so many options," I said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. I never thought of how much it took to plan a wedding. I'd been to countless weddings and involved in several bridal parties. I'd also been a bridesmaid more than once and helped host bachelorette parties, but none of them was as difficult as planning my own. I naively assumed it would be as easy as pointing to something and making a snap decision, but I was wrong. There was so much more to do; things that I never even thought of. Sneaking a glance at Solomon, I wondered if he felt the same way although he looked very relaxed.

"I will make a note to provide you with less options. As I get to know both of you better, I will be able to narrow down your interests and tastes, thereby offering you the best options that suit you both. If you need to come back for a second cake tasting, I can arrange that too. Remember, this is the fun part!" chirped Francesca.

"That might be a good idea," I decided, trying to recall when I last worked out at the gym. If we ate more cake, we would eventually come to a decision, but I would also need to work it off. Solomon, however, was lucky. No amount of calories could make a dent in his six-pack abs. Just another one of the unfair things in life.

"Why don't you both take a few days to think about the cake flavor and let me know what impressed you the most?" she suggested. "And I can give you some brochures with styles and themes that you can take a look at and see if you like any of them. We can discuss your inspiration and if you have a mood board, bring it in. We partner with several great bakeries and many other businesses in the area."

"That sounds great," said Solomon. "Although I think I prefer simple."

"Absolutely great," said Francesca. This time, I thought her smile looked a little sprayed on. It didn't surprise me. Simple could mean anything. I wasn't even sure what Solomon meant. "Follow me and I'll get you those brochures."

"What's simple?" I whispered as Solomon and I both rose, following Francesca from the pretty room into the main part of the shop that formed the wedding salon. This room was painted cream and a mannequin in the window wore a lacy, vintage dress. Pink, white and red roses were dotted around the salon. Francesca went behind one of the twin French-style desks and plucked a handful of glossy brochures from a bookcase.

"No comedy..." he started.

"I love comedy!"

"Not if it's ball-and-chain motifs or little figures of brides and grooms manhandling each other at the altar."

"Okay, point taken."

"Nothing towering up to the sky."

"We had better make a decision on the flavor or that could happen."

"Nothing garishly colored."

"In three fell swoops, you ruined my perfect cake!" I laughed at Solomon's quizzical face. "Simple it is," I agreed, "and round."

"Why round?"

"I have no idea," I said, "I just like the idea. Plus, 'make a decision on something today' was at the top of my to-do list."

"Here you are," said Francesca as she thrust several more glossy brochures into my hands. I turned them over, looking at the beaming brides and proud grooms. "So you two work together at a detective agency, huh?" she inquired. "That must be interesting."

"It is," said Solomon.

"We get some very interesting cases," I added, sensing that she wanted to know more even if she didn't explicitly say so. "It's a very diverse job."

"Is it all honey traps and lost pets?"

"No, we don't cover the former and only occasionally, the latter. Many of our cases involve a criminal element," explained Solomon. "Usually, we're the last option for our clients."

"Hmm." Francesca paused, looking at her feet, and her eyes clouded. Before I could ask if she were okay, she brightened and her big smile reappeared. "Thank you again for choosing White's Wedding Planning and I look forward to helping you create your perfect wedding."

We shook hands, exchanged our goodbyes, and left. After we closed the door to the sound of the tinkling bell above it, Solomon said, "Must be nice to have that kind of stress-free job.”

I hooked my arm in his as we walked to our cars. My previous appointment had been at the agency, and Solomon's was a security job in Bedford Hills, a rich neighborhood on the periphery of town and also, in the opposite direction. That was why we'd arrived separately. "Why's that?" I wondered.

"We meet people under dire circumstances and do our best to help them, even if it doesn't always make them happy. She helps people during the very best time of their lives, when they're the happiest they could be. Must be nice to work on that end of the spectrum once in a while."

"I bet she gets lots of thank you cards," I said. We got an occasional thank you card, but more often, our clients liked to fade away and quietly move on with their lives. I couldn't blame them. Like Solomon said, people only came to us after they had exhausted all their other options. Usually in desperation, they contacted us as a last resort. It was great to give our clients the answers they sought, although not all were good ones or the ones they wanted to hear. Solomon told me once the business of private investigating was not to make anyone happy, but to give our clients the truth and it was up to them whether or not they wanted to hear it or accept it.

"And Christmas cards," said Solomon.