Free The Wedding Day by Joanne Clancy Page A

What happens if they simply don't have a way with words?"
    "A picture paints a thousand words," Ben said wisely.
    "Hmmm, there's a lot more to a connection than a photo," Nicole countered.
    "Well, we have to have some sort of a filtering system," Evette insisted. "What happens if we're inundated with couples wanting our help? We can't possibly meet everyone in person."
    "Maybe not," Nicole reluctantly agreed. "Let's hope we have the problem of being inundated with work. But I already know that I'd rather have a few select clients who I can dedicate myself to than have lots of clients who I hardly know."
    "What are you suggesting?" Evette asked.
    She could see that her sister was alive with ideas brimming under the surface.
    "Well, I'd like to offer a more personal service to our clients, a service with a human touch. Online websites are useful but human intelligence and the personal touch is what could set our service apart from the others. We can offer people a chance to connect with us and we can authenticate prospects in a way the internet can't. I want our business to help people who are genuinely interested in planning their dream wedding."
     
    "You also need to remember that you'll be running a business," Ben said.
    "I realise that fact," Nicole agreed, "but I want it to be a service for people who want to have the wedding of their dreams. We'll be dealing with people's hearts. I want it to be more than about us making money."
    "I like that idea," Evette smiled.
    "Obviously, we'll need an internet site to advertise our agency and have our clients make initial content with us, but after that initial contact I want to make it more personal."
    "Maybe we could interview our clients in person. We could meet them for lunch or coffee and try to get a better understanding of what they need."
    "Excellent idea," Evette enthused, as she furiously took notes.
     
    "Let's brainstorm," Nicole suggested as she handed cups of hot sweet tea to Ben and Evette.
    She tried to ignore the frisson of tension that passed through her when her fingers touched Ben very lightly.
    "Whenever I had an idea for a story at the newspaper I'd take fifteen minutes and jot down every thought and random idea that popped into my head. It's an amazing way to clear your brain and get your ideas together in one place without limiting yourself," Nicole continued.
    "Ok, let's do it." Evette perched at the end of her seat, her pen poised over her notebook.
    "What is wedding planning?" Nicole began.
    "I suppose the definition is that wedding planning is the art of planning marriages in fine detail," Evette answered.
     
    They sat until late into the evening bouncing ideas off each other. They were full of enthusiasm and drive for their new business.
    "I'll make an appointment to see my bank manager tomorrow and then we can really get started," Nicole decided.
    "I don't know about you two but I need to hit the hay. I feel like my brain is fried," Ev groaned, as she tried to stifle a yawn.
    "I'm too wired to sleep now," Ben said. "What about you Nicole?"
    "I'm not tired either," she said primly. There was something about Ben that made her feel nervous. He had such an aura of masculine energy about him.
    "Well, I'm off to my bed. Goodnight you guys."
    "'Nite Ev," Ben and Nicole chimed in unison.
     
    "Would you like some wine? I don't about you but I feel like I've earned a glass after our hard work today," Nicole tittered hysterically.
    She almost jumped off the couch in her haste to avoid sitting too close to Ben. She felt slightly panicky being in the same room alone with him. She didn't know why he made her feel uncomfortable, but he did.
    "I'd prefer a beer if you have one," he said easily, as he stretched out his long legs on the couch and flicked on the television.
    She had a quick peep in the refrigerator and was relieved to see a few cans of beer shoved at the back.
    Pull yourself together woman , she thought as she poured herself a large glass of cold white