Weddings. I spend every working minute thinking and talking and writing about weddings, when the very concept makes me want to scream. After my fiancé abandoned me at the altar last year, my dream job at Bride magazine has turned reoccurring nightmare.
To add insult to injury, I’ve been conscripted into the bridal party of some bridezilla just because she knows the owners’ son. So of course I spend all afternoon bickering with one of the groomsmen and all evening making out with him.
Things only get better when I learn that of course he’s the owner’s son and I’ll have to spend the rest of the season working with him at every single wedding I cover this year.
Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?
To add insult to injury, I’ve been conscripted into the bridal party of some bridezilla just because she knows the owners’ son. So of course I spend all afternoon bickering with one of the groomsmen and all evening making out with him.
Things only get better when I learn that of course he’s the owner’s son and I’ll have to spend the rest of the season working with him at every single wedding I cover this year.
Can the jilted bride and the man who is afraid of love find a way to heal each other?
