“This lipstick is the perfect shade for you,” the makeup artist said, holding up the tube. “Soft, elegant, but still makes a statement.”
“Thank you,” Avery replied, trying to muster a smile, but her mind was elsewhere.
Somewhere down the hall, she could hear Janice’s voice, sharp and commanding. “No, the flowers go by the entrance, not by the dessert table. We’ve been over this!”
Avery exhaled slowly, focusing on staying calm. It’s just nerves, she thought. Everything will be fine.
Just as the makeup artist finished, Clara, Avery’s assistant, burst into the room holding baby Elliot.
“We have a situation,” Clara said, her tone panicked.
Avery turned, her eyes widening. “What happened?”
Clara stepped closer, revealing Elliot’s tiny white shirt, which was now covered in spit-up. His face was scrunched up, tears threatening to spill.
“Oh no,” Avery said, standing up. “Elliot, sweetie, what’s wrong?”
Janice appeared in the doorway moments later, her face a mix of concern and determination. “I heard the word ‘situation.’ What’s going on?”
“Elliot just threw up all over his shirt,” Clara explained, holding up the soiled fabric for emphasis.
Janice raised an eyebrow. “Of course he did. Babies always have impeccable timing.”
Avery paced the room, her hands wringing nervously. “He’s supposed to make the first entrance, Jan! What do we do now? We don’t have a backup outfit.”
Janice smirked, already pulling out her phone. “Aves, you underestimate me. I’m calling Oliver. He’s got time to run to the nearest boutique and grab something adorable.”
“Oliver?” Avery asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure he’s reliable for this?”
“Trust me,” Janice said, dialing her phone. “He owes me for covering his tab last month.”
While Janice barked instructions into the phone, Clara carefully cleaned up Elliot, cooing softly to soothe him. “Don’t worry, little guy,” she said. “We’ll have you looking dapper in no time.”