Chapter 7 - The New Terms
I didn’t wait long.
2 days after I assumed control of the venue and updated the guest list, I sent a short, carefully worded email to Brooke and Tyler.
“Hi, per our previous arrangement. Please note that the venue contract has been updated. Further details will be available at the appropriate time. I’ve also taken the liberty of revising the guest list to reflect those with a genuine connection to the event. If you’d like to discuss next steps, I’m available Friday morning at the Palisade estate. Best, Jason.”
Tyler called within 10 minutes.
I let it go to voicemail.
He tried again and again.
Finally, I picked up on the fourth attempt.
“What are you doing, Jason?” he barked the second I answered.
“Hi to you, too,” I said calmly. “I trust you saw the email.”
“You’re not serious. You can’t just take over our wedding like this. That’s not how this works.”
“It is,” I said, “when your wedding is sitting on contracts I signed, deposits I made, and vendors I vetted. You all made it very clear I wasn’t really invited to be a part of your lives. So now I’m simply following your lead. You’ll still get married. I’ll make sure of it. Just not quite the way you imagined.”
“You’re ruining everything.”
“No, Tyler. I’m correcting everything.”
Brooke called next.
I didn’t answer.
She left a message.
Her voice high and shaky, trying to sound composed, but just barely holding it together.
“Jason, this isn’t funny. This is our wedding. You don’t get to control that. You’re just doing this to get back at us. Grow up.”
I didn’t reply.
I didn’t need to.
Everything was already in motion.
Friday morning, I arrived at the Palisade estate early.
Clarissa had everything ready.
Revised contracts, updated vendor lists, and a fresh calendar of deliverables.
She had also pulled up the finalized floor plan, which I tweaked slightly, shifting the head table, adjusting the reserved seating and making sure a few names were removed entirely.
Then I waited.
Tyler and Brooke walked in 15 minutes late, storming through the front doors with matching scowls and an air of forced confidence.
“Jason,” Brooke said, crossing her arms. “This stops now.”
Tyler looked around.
“Where’s the manager? We want to speak to her.”
“She’s busy,” I said. “With me. Have a seat.”
They didn’t.
They stood, looming like they were about to lecture a weward employee.
“All right,” I said, opening a folder. “Here’s how this is going to work. You’re getting married here as scheduled. The date remains. Most of the vendors remain. The ceremony will be beautiful, intimate, classy, just not performative.”
Brooke blinked.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your influencer photographer is out, replaced by a proper wedding photographer who focuses on people, not Instagram trends. It means your eye sculpture idea, gone. The custom cocktail menu named after your dogs, also gone. This wedding isn’t a branding exercise. It’s a celebration for family. Real family.”
Tyler finally snapped.
“This is insane. You don’t get to just—”
I held up a hand.
“I do and I have, but I’m not here to fight with you. I’m here to make you an offer.”
Brooke narrowed her eyes.
“What kind of offer?”
I looked at them both, steady and calm.
“I’ll keep the wedding intact. I’ll pay every remaining balance. I’ll make sure it runs smoothly. You’ll have your moment. But there are conditions.”
Tyler snorted.
“Of course, there are.”
“One, you acknowledge publicly during the reception the people who made this wedding happen. Not just me, but the others you conveniently left out. Dad’s former partner who co-signed your business loan. Aunt Susan who paid your rent for 6 months. The people you forgot when it was time to give thanks.”
Brooke opened her mouth.
But I continued.
“Two. My guest list remains. I’ve invited people who mattered to our family. People you cut out because they didn’t fit your aesthetic.”
“You mean like your weird godmother with the birds?” Brook said.
I didn’t flinch.
“Yes. Her and your high school friend Jen who you ghosted after she got married at a courthouse. They’re coming. They belong here more than half the people you had on your original list.”
Tyler stepped forward.
“And if we say no?”
I smiled.
“Then the wedding’s canled. Every vendor gets notified. Every dollar refunded except for the cancellation fees which you’ll owe. The dress gets repossessed. The catering vanishes. And good luck finding another venue this late in the season. You’ll spend double what I spent and still end up with a garden party in someone’s backyard.”
They stared at me for a long time.
Then Brooke hissed.
“This is blackmail.”
“No,” I said. “This is a choice.”
Tyler was the first to break.
He looked tired.
Really tired.
Like the weight of everything had finally settled on him.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Well do it.”
Brooke glared at him.
“Tyler.”
He turned to her.
“We don’t have a choice.”
She looked like she wanted to scream, but she swallowed it.
She didn’t want to be embarrassed.
Not now.
May you like
Not yet.
“Good,” I said, standing. “Well finalize the program next week.”
