Shame: A Stepbrother Romance (9 page)

Suddenly Andrew looks up and looks in my direction and I am so horrified that he might spot me that I stumble backwards onto the street pavement and directly into a large puddle. The water splashes so hard, it fills my left boot with grimy fluid which trickles down to my heels and gets absorbed into my terry socks. A car horn honks alarmingly right behind me and I almost fall forward, but I manage to grip the side of the magazine stand. As a result, I have two broken nails now.

Before things can get any worse, I hurry off to the bookstore.

The door bell chimes and Ashleigh walks in, struggling under the weight of a giant plastic case that’s covered in raindrops.

“Ash! What is this?” I say, running to relieve her of her strain, “Don’t tell me…”

“Yes, it is,” she wheezes, “Do we have time?”

“Michelle and Stacy are already here, but we don’t start for another ten minutes. Why did you bring it? And why are you even here? Aren’t you supposed to get all pampered up for tomorrow?”

She places a palm over her chest and holds out her other one, indicating I should give her a second to catch her breath.

“I’m having doubts,” she finally says and I’m guessing from her tone that she is on the verge of tears.

“About what? Sean?”

“No, silly. The dress. It’s awful. I put it on this morning and it looks like a fondant cake with like a gazillion layers. What was I thinking?”

I know there is only one thing I can say now, given that the wedding is only a few hours away. I don’t even need to look at the dress and check if she’s exaggerating.

“Ash, listen to me,” I say, looking her straight in the eye, “You’ll be a princess tomorrow. This is what princesses wear. Fondant cakes with a gazillion layers. And I’m sure you’ll rock yours.”

“Are you sure? Do you want to see it?” she asks miserably and again I know I have no choice. Ten minutes or not, I have to see the dress and confirm it looks positively classy. I’ve been there for all three of my mom’s weddings and I know too well how brides can get on the evening before their big day. Everything seems only half ready, if even that. She is probably a ball of nerves just waiting for that spark to catch on fire and explode.

I know the preparations have been going on for months and probably every little detail seemed perfect at the time of planning, but now she is questioning everything. It takes a friend and a mind that’s not boggled down by doubts to ease hers, so I take the challenge, though I’m not sure if I have the most unburdened mind right now.

“Come on,” I say and usher her into the storage room, “Let’s see what’s so horrible about it.”

“Promise you’ll be honest,” Ashleigh whines as she shimmies into the enormous pile of frills and lace.

I step behind her and pull on the strings of her corset, squeezing her tiny waist inside the complex construction. Then I take a few steps back and pretend to be examining her very seriously. I allow a couple of minutes to go by and her expression becoming more and more anxious is painful to watch. Finally, I take a deep breath.

“I’ve never seen anyone more stunning,” I say confidently and with a smile, though she could really do without a layer or two. There’s no time for that. What she needs is assurance. If she believes she looks good in it, she can walk down the aisle in a potato sack and rock it. “I only wish you’ll be shopping with me when my time comes. That’s exactly the type of dress I’d pick for myself.”

The taste of the blatant lie is bitter on my tongue, but her face goes from scrunched up to beaming and I know I’ve accomplished my goal.

“Really? You honestly think that?”

“Ash, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. All eyes will be on you tomorrow.”

She shuffles towards me with difficulty. The thing is a nightmare to walk in. She wraps her slim arms around me and squeezes me.

“You are fantastic, you know that? I can finally go to bed without going out of my mind.”

“Are you really staying for the book club meeting? You seriously don’t have to.”

“Are you kidding me? It took me forever to finish that drab novel. I’m not missing my chance to vent and bitch about it. I think it will make me feel better and I can stop worrying for at least an hour. By the way, are you bringing anyone tomorrow? I still haven’t canceled your plus one, just in case you meet prince charming last minute.”

“I don’t know about prince charming, but I’m bringing my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“I know, I only just met him on Tuesday. And Ash, you won’t believe this,” I say and tell her about the unlikely coincidence, but I leave out anything that’s happened in bathrooms or tennis courts. I wouldn’t have told her, but I don’t want it to be a distraction for her tomorrow. She is only moderately shocked, probably because her mind is completely preoccupied with her own ordeal.

I already regret agreeing to take Andrew with me. Even the most boring weddings make me feel sentimental and I’m not exactly stable right now. I feel like I’ve lost my ability to seem angry or indifferent or even normal around him and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep myself from probing into his personal life. Which just brings me back to the woman he is probably still with.

Will they kiss as they part? Will they go to his place? Does she look as fabulous naked as she is in her perfect little outfit? Okay, that last one was stupid. Of course she does. I only wish he knew nothing about that.

“What’s wrong?” Ashleigh asks as she zips up the plastic case with her monster of a dress. “Hey, don’t be upset. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon. Maybe I can introduce you to some of Sean’s friends tomorrow. I’m sure your brother won’t mind. After you’ve had a shot off his crotch, I’m pretty sure you two are bound to become very close. Or maybe he can pimp you out to some of his buddies?”

I let her think that’s exactly why I’m upset and it’s not like I’m picturing the brother in question going down on a girl who’s at least five categories above me.

“Sure,” I say vaguely. It’s a terrible idea! I don’t want to be meeting any men, not to mention being “pimped out” in front of Andrew. “Just don’t let it distract you from the best day in your life.”

Ashleigh giggles. I’m happy our little escape to the storage room has had its desired effect and she is back in her high spirits.

“Shall we go?” Ashleigh says and drags the case over to a sorting table, hauling it on top of it, “I think no one can wait to start ripping on the little piece of trash you’ve assigned us.”

At that moment my phone rings and a quick look tells me it’s him. Andrew. Why is he calling me? Isn’t he still at that cafe with his gorgeous date? Or maybe he’s canceling about tomorrow? I’m feeling quite low and I don’t feel like talking now. The worst of all is I completely realize how pathetic I’m being. I haven’t felt like this since high school and I thought all these intense feelings from just seeing someone’s name on the caller ID display was a thing of the past, the work of hormones I no longer produced in excessive amounts.

“You go,” I hear myself saying, “I’ll fetch the tea.”

“Tea?” Ashleigh’s eyebrows shoot up, “Maybe I should go home after all. I thought we were binging on donuts like usual or I wouldn’t have read the thing past the first five percent.”

I practically push her out the door and close it behind her. My heart is thumping in my chest and my blood is racing as I press the answer button.

“Hello?” I try to sound nonchalant.

“Hey, sis,” Andrew says cheerfully across the line. “Just checking in about tomorrow.”

I strain my ears to recognize any of the usual sounds in the cafe around him — the nature chill out music normally playing in the background, the chatter, the hissing and wheezing of the espresso machine. I hear nothing. Not even the dreaded chuckle of his date. Or her moaning.
Stop it!
Why on earth would she be moaning? I’m being irrational.

“Where are you?” I blurt out without thinking.

“Just kicking around at home, watching the news,” he says casually and I can’t believe he is such a good liar. I have a vague idea of where his apartment is. There is no way he’s reached it in the few short minutes we’ve been inspecting Ashleigh’s dress.

“On silent?” I ask and wince at my words as soon as I hear them come out of my mouth. What’s wrong with me? I sound like a suspicious mother. He laughs, which only makes it worse.

“Of course not. I went to the other room. So, about tomorrow. What time should I pick you up?”

It takes me a while to respond. My brain is paralyzed. Why would he lie? Did I just imagine the whole thing? Was that even him in that cafe or my mind is so obsessed with him now, I keep seeing his face in complete strangers?

“I don’t think there’s a need for that. I’m the maid of honor, remember?” I say and my voice is trembling and raspy. “It’s best if we meet there, since I’ll be going to Ashleigh’s first and we’ll leave together from there.”

“Alright, whatever works,” he says. “Hey, sis?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Thanks for inviting me. It would be good for me to meet some people and spend some time with your friends. I can’t wait to see you in your maid of honor’s dress.”

I want to remind him he invited himself, but he is being so nice, I can’t find the necessary defiance. Or maybe my sick brain has got worked up by his last words.

“I’m glad you’re coming too,” I say dumbly instead. At least I can use the opportunity to expose his lie and try to figure out why he would be lying in the first place.

I hang up and finally go to the front. Everyone’s expecting me and they are hungry and irritable. The book was a terrible choice and all I have to offer is bland tea. Great! I’m in for a treat.

Too bad I can’t even come up with some creative way of appeasing the tension by the fireplace. My mind is no longer here. It’s already jumped into tomorrow and it’s already crafting what I should say to tease some information out of my mysterious new brother. Or crush…

CHAPTER NINE

It’s a miracle that the sky has cleared up just in time for the wedding. Yesterday even the weather forecast wasn’t too optimistic, but it looks like nature has conspired to perform one of its wonders and the day is gorgeous.

I can never figure out why Ashleigh and Sean chose this odd November date for their big day. With all the other weddings of friends and Facebook acquaintances completed by the end of September, I had assumed no one got married after that and my news feed would be reserved for the Halloween costumes and the turkeys.

I know Ashleigh is not pregnant, so there’s no rush on that account, so is it possible that they just love each other so much, they can’t wait until spring and prefer to risk a gloomy, rainy wedding day than spend another minute not officially each other’s? I wish I had something like that in my life. As much as I like to think that the bookstore and my books are all I need to be satisfied, in moments like this one, I feel the dull ache of something missing more palpably.

It’s not abnormally warm for the season and the air is clear and crisp the way it only is in the fall, but the sky is spotless and bright blue and the weak sunshine provides a natural mood lift.

Everything is going according to plan. I’ve taken my position just inside the club house doors and I can hear the shuffling of the bridesmaids’ dresses behind me. At the back of the row are Ashleigh and her father and we are all waiting for the coordinator’s signal to step out and walk the short distance to the altar.

I’m wearing a long emerald satin gown and a fluffy faux fur wrap, and a set of exquisite silver and jade jewelry set is hanging from my neck and ears. I’m holding a delicate bouquet of lily of the valley and its refreshing scent tickles my nostrils. My hair is tied up in a complex updo and though I would have much preferred it loose, I had to obey the bride’s wishes regarding… well, everything. My makeup is also professionally done and I haven’t felt so beautiful and different in my life. I look like the opposite of my usual self.

While we are waiting for the signal, I scan the crowd through the glass doors, looking for Andrew. Did he manage to find the place? Did he get here on time? My phone is in the small clutch I’ve left in the dressing room, so I have no way of knowing if he got lost on the way. In any case, I don’t see him. Instead, I see an eager crowd of guests, seated on the benches before the altar or gathered on either side, all eyes turned towards the door we will be walking through in a moment.

I’m as nervous as if it was my own wedding. What if I stumble? What if I fall or mess up my speech later? I bet Andrew’s date never falls or messes up.
Just quit it
, I tell myself for the hundredth time since yesterday. I don’t understand why my mind just keeps going there if I realize it is both painful and fruitless.

“Okay, go,” says the smart woman beside me, dressed in a dark suit and sporting a hands-free device and a clipboard. She looks like a secret agent, not like a wedding one.

I push the door open and a valet takes over from the outside, holding it for all of us to pass through. The crowd stands up as one and starts clapping and cheering. I feel like I’m burning with stage fright and despite the chill, I feel the beads of sweat form on my temples.