Sleeping With Paris (30 page)

No wonder my mom had left Ohio the minute she and my dad had separated. How could she have stayed, knowing my dad was living just down the road with his girlfriend? What if she ran into them at the store? Thinking about Jeff and Brooke and my broken family made me feel nauseous all of a sudden. I rushed into one of the stalls and got sick.

After that ghastly experience, I popped in a stick of gum, touched up my makeup and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

Get it together, Charlotte. Get it together.

I couldn’t let Jeff and Brooke see how they were making me feel.

Determined to keep my shit together for the rest of the night, I turned to leave the bathroom. But just as I was walking out the door, I crashed right into Jeff.

“Oh, sorry,” I stammered as I pushed past him.

“Charlotte, wait,” he called as he followed me down the hallway. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

Probably because the sight of you with your online girlfriend literally just made me get sick.

 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?” I asked, noticing that Jeff was flustered and out of breath.

“Yeah, I just . . .” he paused and looked into my eyes. “I can’t believe they chose
this
restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. And, well, it’s just so good to see you again. You look beautiful, Charlotte. Really, you're stunning.”

“What about that girlfriend of yours? She’s quite the looker, Jeff. Well done,” I said curtly as I rounded him to flee the scene.

Jeff grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him. “Wait, I just want to talk to you for a minute. We haven’t talked in months.”

“What is there to talk about?” I asked, wanting to smack him across the face so badly I could’ve screamed.

“You just look so . . . so happy. Are you really happy with that guy? That
French
guy?”

“That French guy has a name, and it’s Luc. And yes, I am happy. He’s amazing. And you . . . you seem happy with, what’s her name again?”
Like I could ever forget.

“Brooke,” he replied as he gazed shamefully at the floor.

“Oh yes, Brooke, that’s right. I almost forgot. You two are lovely together, I’m so glad you found each other.”

He lifted an eyebrow, clearly not buying my fake sincerity.

“I’m over us Jeff, totally and completely over us. So you can stop feeling bad and trying to see if I’m okay. I’m fine. Luc and I are really happy together. It all worked out for the best.” The words flew out of my mouth just as I had practiced them, and I was hoping they were believable.

“Oh . . . well . . . that’s great,” Jeff stammered as he glanced down at his feet. “I’m glad you’re doing so well. I mean, you seem so happy . . . you really do.”

“Thanks, I am,” I said as I turned to walk away.

Jeff grabbed my hand one last time and pulled me back toward him. “Charlotte, one more thing . . . Did I make you that happy?”

I hesitated, knowing that before I'd found out that Jeff was cheating on me, I'd never felt happier. I'd never fallen in love so hard, so fast, as I had with Jeff. But he'd broken that love. He'd broken my heart. And I couldn't stand here and look into his big blue eyes for another second. “I’m sure Brooke is wondering where you are. You better get back.” And with that, I pulled away from his grip and walked back through the restaurant, leaving him alone to question his decisions.

Luc was walking toward me as I approached the table. “I was just coming to find you. You are okay? You were gone for a while.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for checking though,” I said as I kissed him on the cheek.

My entire body ached after my run-in with Jeff and my purge in the bathroom. I did my best to act happy. Happy to be with Luc, happy to be with my friends again, and happy for Hannah and Mike. But, with Jeff and Brooke just a few seats down, happiness was not on tonight’s menu. I averted my eyes away from the dreaded couple throughout the remainder of the meal, but I could feel Jeff’s eyes on me all night, burning a hole through my heart.

Twenty

samedi, le 2 avril

Nothing good can come from mixing alcohol with a wedding, an ex-fiancé,

and a big-busted red-head.

 The hotel alarm clock roared loudly in my ears before the sun had even risen the next morning. I rolled out of bed half-awake and climbed into the shower. Dread gripped my stomach as I thought about spending one more full day in the same room as Jeff and Brooke. I had to keep it together though. This was Hannah's day, not mine. Plus, things were going so well with Luc. He really cared about me. And even though I was still hesitant to commit to someone for a
lifetime
per se, I cared deeply for him too. It wasn't fair to him for me to be focused on Jeff and Brooke's antics all weekend.

After all, I was over Jeff. Completely over him.

Wasn't I?

I shook off my doubts and met the girls down in the lobby at six a.m. on the dot. We spent the entire morning at a classy salon on Connecticut Avenue, Katie, Hannah and I sitting side by side while stylists pulled, combed, curled and sprayed our hair into typical wedding-do's.

“It's so great to have you home from Paris, Charlotte,” Hannah said. “We've missed you so much. And your Parisian boyfriend is just scrumptious!”

Katie giggled. “And such a better guy than Jeff ever was. Not to mention the fact that he’s totally in love with you.”

“I wouldn’t take it
that
far, Katie.”
Could Luc really be in love with me?

“He flew with you from Paris to DC to come to Hannah’s wedding. He didn’t come all the way here to see what an American wedding was like. Or to have sex with you. He came here to
be
with you.”

“I know he really has feelings for me, Katie. And I like him too. A lot. But, he has a
child
. And I haven't even met her yet. Plus, I can't help but wonder, what if I fall for him and then it ends in disaster like the rest of my relationships? And like my parents?”

“Charlotte, Jeff broke your heart, yes. But Luc isn’t Jeff.”

“Speaking of Jeff,” Hannah cut in. “Is everything okay with you guys this weekend? I know you weren't looking forward to seeing him . . . or meeting his girlfriend.”

“Everything's fine, Hannah. Please don't worry, okay? This is your day. I would never do anything to ruin it.”

“I didn't mean that you would,” Hannah replied. “It's just . . . I was on my way to the bathroom at the rehearsal dinner last night and noticed the two of you talking really close. I know this is nuts to even ask, but is he trying to get back together with you?”

“God, Hannah, no. Don't be ridiculous. I think he's just getting all nostalgic and rethinking his actions now that he's seen me here with another guy. I’m not going to fall for it though, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“I'm sorry, I know that was a dumb thing of me to ask. I'm just nervous about the wedding, that's all,” Hannah said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I don't want any drama on my big day, you know. I want this to be the best wedding everyone has ever been to. I want it to be perfect. Plus, I've gotten to know Brooke a little bit, and well, she's not as horrible as you guys might think. She doesn't know that Jeff was engaged when she met him. She thinks you guys broke up a while before they started dating.”

I clenched the arms of my chair and forced my expression to stay neutral. If Hannah didn't want any drama, she shouldn't have told me she was fraternizing with The Enemy, or that Jeff had continued his lying streak with his new girlfriend.

“I'm not surprised he didn't tell her,” Katie said, glancing over at me nervously. “But I think we should drop the subject. Everything will be fine today, right Charlotte?”

“Yes, you guys. Seriously. I'm not going to do anything stupid. Jeff was the one who approached me last night after I came out of the bathroom. I'm doing my best to avoid him. Plus I haven't spoken to Brooke, and I don't plan on it.”

It seemed that my friends had forgotten
who
had been the one to begin this drama eight months ago with his disgusting online dating profile. But now wasn't the time to remind them of that.

Hannah and Katie stayed silent, so I lifted the corners of my mouth into a smile and kept talking. “Like I said, Hannah, this day is all about you and Mike. I'm so happy for you two, I really am. There won't be any drama tonight, and if Jeff even tries to start anything weird, you can count on me to put an end to it. Okay?”

“Thanks, Charlotte. I didn't think I could count on Jeff to behave, but I knew I could count on you. It was silly of me to think otherwise. It's just the wedding jitters talking.”

And while we didn't speak of Jeff or Brooke for the rest of the morning, those two unwelcome lovebirds made themselves cozy in the back of my mind and refused to leave.

***

Hannah's wedding jitters made several more appearances throughout the day, and with only a half an hour until go-time, Bridezilla had officially come to town.

“Mom and Kelly, you need to stop crying! You're making me cry, and I can't have make-up smearing down my face like a clown when I walk down the aisle!” Hannah snapped at her mother and sister after they'd helped her slip on her wedding gown.

Hannah's mom dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “A few tears on your wedding day aren't going to make you look like a clown, dear. It shows character. And besides, you look so beautiful. I can't help it.”

“
Mom.
” Hannah parked her hands on her skinny hips. She looked like an angry cream puff in her poofy wedding gown.

Katie raised her eyebrows at me. “Maybe we all need to give Hannah some air. This is a big day.”

“Yes, that's exactly what I need,” Hannah said. “Would everyone just stop ogling over me and give me some freaking room to breathe?”

Hannah's sister ushered their mother out of the Healy Hall classroom, dabbing at her eyes the whole way, while Katie and I followed suit. But Hannah grabbed hold of my arm just as I was about to leave.

“Charlotte, you can stay.”

I didn't dare argue with Bridezilla. Instead, I closed the door and turned around to face my friend, wondering why weddings made girls turn into crazy women.

“Are you okay?” I asked as Hannah paced the room in her sparkly white princess gown, the short train swishing at her feet. With her sandy blond hair pulled back under an elegant, lacy veil, I'd never seen her look more beautiful . . . or more nervous.

She stopped and gazed up at me, tears rimming her eyelids. “I need to tell you something, Charlotte.”

“What is it?” I asked, taking a step toward her.

Her eyes darted to the floor as she squeezed her hands together. “You have to promise not to judge me.”

“Of course I won't judge you. Whatever it is, you can tell me,” I said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She let out a long, shaky breath. “Oh, God. I can't believe I'm going to say this out loud, right before I'm about to walk down the aisle. But I have to. I have to get this out.”

“What is it, Hannah?”

“You swear you will never tell anyone? No matter what. This goes to the grave.”

“I swear.”

“Okay, here goes . . . I cheated on Mike.”

I stared at my innocent, beautiful, bride-to-be friend, not believing my ears. Hannah was so perfect. So naïve. So prude. Had I even heard her correctly? “You . . . what?”

“You heard me, Charlotte,” she hissed. “I cheated on him! On my fiancé! A week before my wedding. What the fuck was I thinking?”

She never said fuck either. In fact, Katie and I had never heard Hannah so much as utter a “shit” or even a “damn” in all of our years as college roommates, or after college for that matter. She was a classic good girl. And classic good girls did
not
sleep with men
other
than their fiancés, and they certainly didn't shout the “F” word while standing in their wedding gown about to commit to the supposed love of their life.

“Charlotte!” she snapped.

“Okay, I'm sorry. I just had to let that register for a minute. So this just happened last week?”

Hannah plopped into a chair, smashing a big white poof underneath her butt, then gazed up at me with her huge green eyes. “Yes.”

I swallowed, trying not to show the shock on my face. “And who was it with?”

“A co-worker.”

“Do you have feelings for this guy?”

“No.”

“Then why . . .”

“Oh, God, I don't know.” She stood and resumed her frantic pacing. “I've been reading your blog all year, you know. Jeff and Mike really aren't that different, and it got me worried. Like what if what happened to you happened to me, but
after
I got married? What if Mike and I end up like your parents? Over fifty percent of divorces end in marriage! I can't ignore that statistic. And then your article came out, and it got me thinking about the flip side of the coin, about being with
one man
for the rest of my life. I mean, you know I've only ever
been
with Mike. He was my first everything, and he was
going
to be my last. And I guess I just kind of freaked out about it. So last weekend, while Mike was out for his bachelor party, I went out for drinks with a few co-workers. At the end of the night, it was just me and this one guy, Chris, and we were both really drunk. He's liked me for years, and I've always wondered what it would be like . . . and well, now I know.” Hannah gazed at the floor as a tear rolled down her cheek.