Perfect Ten (7 page)

Joe

Oh fuck. It
was not going to be fine. Not if I couldn’t make my body behave. Just putting my hand on Faith’s knee had my mind regressing back to that of a horn-dog who couldn’t think of anything but getting his cock inside a nice, warm woman. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to slide my hand up her leg as far as she’d allow me to. Her skin was remarkably soft—like the most delicate of rose petals. I wanted to feel it against my lips. Run my tongue up the inside of her thigh.

When I realized she was staring at my hand, which had indeed begun to creep upward, I removed it, acting much more nonchalant than I felt. “Ready?” I parked the car and jumped out to open Faith’s door for her. She took my hand
, and I could feel the tension in her body. What could I do to put her at ease? Only wanting to get her to loosen up a bit, I did what came naturally to me where she was concerned. I kissed her.

Faith’s hands flattened against my chest, and I was sure she was going to push me away. But then I heard a small moan come from deep in her throat, and she grabbed a hold of the lapels on my jacket to pull me closer.
Hot damn!
The air around us was thick with unspent passion. I gently pinched her chin to make her open for me. The second her lips parted, I swept my tongue inside. As the kiss went on, I slid my right hand down her side and over her hip to stop at her thigh. Gently, I lifted her leg and pushed myself harder against her. I
wanted
her to feel how hard I was for her—again. Tossing one off hadn’t helped even a little bit.

“Oh, God. Stop.” She finally pushed away from me, but I don’t think she really wanted to. “What are you doing?”

Lipstick was missing from her lips, and I had to assume it was all over mine. That didn’t bother me even a little bit. In fact, I told her to leave just a little bit when she was furiously trying to wipe it away.

“What? No! I can’t believe I just did that. You’re supposed to make me look good. You’re not supposed to help me make a spectacle of myself at my sister’s wedding! Dammit.” She was pulling out another tissue when a woman with a rather large mouth wandered over to us.

“Classy, Faith. Real classy. You two gonna have sex in one of the pews, too?” Her pointed chin, which did nothing good for her large mouth, jutted out in disapproval of our behavior.

Faith rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Nice to see you too, Marge. I’m sorry if our little kiss offended you.”

“It didn’t offend me.
I
don’t care what you do, but do you really think a wedding is an appropriate place to be kissing?”

Faith cocked her head and replied, “Actually, yes. Where better to kiss than at a wedding?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Forget it. So, who’s the guy you’re sucking face with?” She waved her perfectly manicured hand over me like I was the most distasteful thing she’d seen in a long while. Maybe ever.

“Joe, this is my sister, Marge. Marge, this is Joe.” Not the most flattering of introductions, but at least Faith didn’t look like she was going to throw up anymore. I shook Marge’s hand and
then watched her walk off without another word. Nice lady.

“Sorry about that, she’s just not a nice person. Although even if she was, she’d still be nasty to me.” Faith shrugged her shoulders as if she didn’t care, but I could tell she did. The smile she threw me didn’t even come close to reaching her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it. We all have relatives like that. Come on, let’s go in.” I put my hand on the small of her back, my pinky sneaking down to the curve of her gorgeous, ample bottom. When we stepped into the entryway of the church, all eyes swung toward us. My guess was that dear sister Marge alerted the family to our presence.

Faith was almost immediately engulfed in the arms of a large older man. His sandy blond hair was
liberally laced with thin streaks of gray. The multitude of lines radiating from the corners of his eyes said that he laughed often. He wasn’t what I was expecting. The family members that I had already met made me believe the rest of the family members would be more of the same.

“Hi, Daddy.” Faith’s smile was
genuine for her father. It reached all the way up to her eyes and then some. The affection I saw coming from the daughter was mirrored by the father. It was nice to see she had at least one family member in her corner.

“Hi, Pumpkin.” He took her hands and held them out to her side. “You look beautiful.”

“Geez, Daddy, do you really have to call me Pumpkin when I’m wearing this God awful orange dress?”

“Now
, you stop that. You’re a breath of fresh air, my girl. Don’t ever doubt it.”

“Well, thank you
, Daddy. You look pretty good yourself.”

At
last, he turned to me and stuck his hand out. “You must be Joe. You can call me Dale. Marge told me you couldn’t keep your hands off my little girl here. I can understand why. She’s a beautiful girl, but watch yourself.” His warning was given with a smile, but given none the less.

“Understood, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I kept my handshake firm but not so firm that he thought I was trying to prove anything.

“Dale! Get in here. We’re almost ready to start.” And in came the mother. She was painfully thin with perfectly styled light blonde hair and makeup that was sure to cover up anything that might look like a wrinkle. You know how some people seem to wear their money? That was what I thought when I saw her. I could picture her walking around in a mink coat carrying a toy dog with a diamond collar just to get the attention she believed she deserved. But I could be wrong.

“Oh, hi Faith.” She looked me over
with a cool gaze and clearly found me wanting. Without bothering to greet me, she turned her fake, emaciated body around, leaving her husband to follow after her into the bride’s room. Dale gave Faith one last squeeze before he dutifully trailed after his wife. Now I saw where Marge got her personality.

“Come on, Joe. Let’s go get this over with.”

Her smile was small as she looked over at me, but at least she was smiling. My smile back to her couldn’t be contained, and hers shone a bit brighter. I was glad to see it. Maybe it was the kiss that broke her out of her funky mood. I chose to think so. Maybe I have magic lips. One can hope.

We sat in the very last row, which was fine with me. The wedding itself was
short and sweet, which was also fine with me. Pictures, however, took for-freaking-ever. How many fucking pictures did a bride need of her dress? Seriously.

Faith was as agitated as I was. She had been in two of the family pictures so far. Two. I used my phone to snap a couple of her with her father, but as soon as her mother saw
them cozying up for pictures together, she pulled Dale away to stand by her side. I could see how it was with her. She was jealous of Faith. It didn’t take a therapist to see that. Patricia Graham did not like the closeness that her husband and daughter shared. And whenever she could, she broke them apart. I wondered if that’s where her sisters learned to be so cold toward her.

“I think they’re almost done.” Faith plopped down on the pew next to me. “How many pictures do they need? It’s ridiculous. And they still have to go to the park, but I put my foot down. I’m not going. They don’t want me in the pictures anyway.”

“What do you want to do?” I’d take her anywhere.

“Let’s go over to the reception. It’s cocktail hour and God knows I could use
one or two.”

***

The Beverly Hills Hotel was beautiful, like most things in the Hills were. We saw a couple of people from the church walking into the lobby as we pulled up. Most of the guests were probably already half lit from the free drinks. I took Faith’s hand as we walked through the main doors. “I’ve always loved the architecture in this old place. It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it?” There were enormous pillars creating a circled sitting area with a huge, ornate chandelier hanging from its center. The marble floors were so shiny that you could almost see your reflection in them.

“It really is. When I was a little girl, my daddy used to bring me here for my birthday. Just him and me. We’d stay in one of the big suites. I think it was a mini vacation for both of us. For me, it was nice getting away from all the negative energy from my mother and sisters, and for Dad, well, probably the same thing. He would act like he was doing me a favor by letting me take an hour long bubble bath in the huge spa tub while he sat in the living room watching hockey.” She was smiling as she spoke. I was glad that she had such fond memories, because I was starting to think her whole childhood must have sucked.

“As I got older, I caught on to his games. Instead of calling him on it, I stayed in that huge bathroom even longer, reading or just listening to music. He deserved the down time as much as I deserved to get away from home for a while. It was a win-win.”

We walked into the reception room
, and I let out a low whistle. “Wow. This is some room.”

“They just refurbish
ed it. This is the first party they’ve had in here since they finished.”

Mirrors covered the back wall with intricate scroll work creating an arched design on them
, reminiscent of Hollywood’s Golden Age. The tablecloths were made of silk the color of freshly polished copper while the chairs were painted silver with dark yellow cushions covering the seats. Raised vases filled to the brim sat in the middle of each table, high enough so that you could still see the person sitting across from you. They were filled with roses of varying colors all in the amber and orange spectrum. Very sophisticated. The room reeked of wealth.

“Would you like a drink, Faith?”

“That is an emphatic yes. I’ll walk over with you.” A plump, matronly looking woman approached as we were about to make our way over to the bar.

“Hi, Aunt Alice. It’s so nice to see you.” They exchanged kisses before her aunt replied.

“Hello, Faith. Who’s your cute friend?”

“This is Joe Starling. Joe, this is my daddy’s sister, Alice Callahan.” Her smile was authentic as she shook my hand. So the father’s side of the family was the side with the nice people on it.

“You can call me Alice. How long have you been a friend of Faith’s?”

As soon as the question left Alice’s mouth, Faith jumped. I put a reassuring hand on her back as I answered Alice’s question. “Not long enough. I shudder to think of all the years I’ve wasted not knowing her.” Okay, that might be laying it on too thick.

“Oh, aren’t you adorable. And you’re right to feel that way. Faith is one of a kind. I’m not exactly sure how she managed to stay so sweet living in that nest of vipers growing up.”

“Oh, Aunt Alice
, stop that. They’re not all bad. Sassy can be nice sometimes.”

While I think it’s a stretch to say her sister Sassy was actually nice, she did say that the dress Faith was wearing looked great on her. But she picked it out, so would she say anything else? Who
knows.

“I was just going to get Faith a drink. Could I get you something, Alice?” Her face lit up again in pleasure.
I wasn’t sure if she was a lonely sort or if she simply appreciated my gesture, but either way, her smile made me feel like I’d done something right.

“That would be lovely. I’d love a white wine.”

“What would you like, Faith?”

“I would like a really big Dirty Martini. Extra dirty and extra dry.”

Her answer took me by surprise. I was expecting her to say something more along the lines of a Malibu Sea Breeze. “So, basically you want vodka and olive juice. Coming right up.” I threw her a wink and walked over to the bar.

Things got interesting while I was waiting for the drinks. And not in a
good way. Did you know people assume that when you’re good looking you want to be treated like a piece of meat? While this could be true if you want that kind of attention from a specific person, most of the time it’s downright annoying. I mean, people compliment me on everything from my eyes to my ass. Shouldn’t they be complimenting my mother? I had nothing to do with the looks I got. DNA and luck were involved with that.

“Hi. Who are you?” The redhead tapped me on
my arm.

Being polite, I stuck my hand out and said, “My name’s Joe. I’m Faith’s date. Are you part of the Graham family?” Not that I cared, but I figured I’d make nice. It is my job
, after all.

“You’re
Faith’s
date?” What the fuck was it with everybody? What was I missing?

“Yes. Can you tell me why that surprises you? I’ve gotten that reaction before
, and I don’t get it.”

“It’s just that Faith is, well, so much
, um, rounder than the rest of the family. She’s got—issues. I mean, she’s even been in therapy for eating too much. It’s absurd. If she’d just exercise like the rest of us and stop shoving food—”

I wasn’t listening to one more minute of her rambling. “Stop. What is with all of you? She’s beautiful and healthy. If I were
her, I’d be thanking God that I got all the curves in the family. She’s real and…” I stopped talking when I felt a hand on my arm.