THE JUNIOR BRIDESMAID (11 page)

“Give me an hour
and I should be done.”

I looked back down
at my notepad and picked up my ballpoint pen putting the tip to my lips like I
had been mid-thought when she so rudely interrupted me.

I knew I wasn’t
fooling anyone because Stacey did that thing where she rolled the tip of her
tongue along her tautly tucked bottom lip. That meant she didn’t believe a word
I said. But luckily she didn’t verbalize her disbelief. Instead she chose to
leave me with a challenge. “Great. I’ll expect it in my ‘inbox’ in an hour.”

Fuck her. Senior
year of college I practically wrote my entire dissertation in an hour. A speech
was no problem, whatsoever. Stacey turned her attention toward the traitor
sitting outside of my office, glaring and growling at Logan.

I knew Stacey had
left because I heard the intercom come to life. Psht. “Is it safe to come out
from under my desk?” Psht. “Over.”

This I had to see
for myself. So I stood, rounded my desk and peeked outside my door. I couldn’t
see Logan so I stepped out to take a closer look. His telephone wire was
dragged across his desk and then disappeared. I walked around and leaned over
to find Logan cradled under his desk clutching his phone. “Pussy,” I scolded.

“She’s crazy,” he
whispered. “Over,” he whispered again.

That was for damn
sure.

I finished writing
the speech Stacey and I would be giving at the gala and emailed it to her with
ten minutes to spare. Even though she and I worked together flawlessly and
didn’t need to ‘rehearse,’ she still needed time to practice her part. I
outlined clearly which portion of the speech was Stacey’s and which was mine.
We had done this hundreds of times and this time should be no different. But
since our little ‘disagreement,’ I entertained the thought that she might try
to switch or change things around. She had only done that one other time. It
was the first speech I had written for us. She had said that she wasn’t very
comfortable writing speeches and I had said that I didn’t mind. Truth be told,
I actually liked writing speeches. So I penned the entire thing not giving much
thought as to who would say which part and then divided it up equitably. I
didn’t care which part fell on my shoulders because I wrote the entire thing as
if I would be saying it. But the first thing Stacey did when she received it
was alert me to the fact that she wanted to switch parts. I found her request
odd but figured that being a domineering personality she wanted to go first. So
I said that it was fine. But as soon as I acquiesced, she immediately switched
it back. Maybe she thought I was trying to trick her somehow? I wasn’t sure.
But I should have realized then that the fact that she questioned my intentions
spoke volumes about her own character.

My stomach started
to growl warning me that lunchtime was approaching. Since I still hadn’t heard
from Stacey I assumed that she hadn’t had an issue with the speech. But
really, I should’ve known better. She was the most calculating person I had
ever met aside from Darcy. I got in the elevator with the intention of going to
get a sandwich and hightailing it back to my desk to wait for Steven to summon
me. Diving head first into the bag strapped to my shoulder praying that I’d
remembered my wallet, I wasn’t paying attention to who was in the elevator when
I stepped inside.

“Delilah,” the
slow southern drawl held a hint of sneer.

I knew who it was
before I even looked. I had spent the better part of the prior evening with my
mind vacillating between two concerns, one more terrifying than the other.
First, that I screwed up my chances with Hugh and second, Will was fairly
delusional and actively stalking me. I had fallen asleep still trying to
convince myself that I was overreacting to Will’s comment and he was
essentially harmless. It helped that I had a round-the-clock doorman and a
heavy-duty deadbolt. But when I looked up to acknowledge Will, he was smirking
snidely.

“Hello, Will,” I
tried to say with a confidence I wasn’t feeling. I affixed the strap of my bag
tighter on my shoulder and shook my head to get my hair untangled from the
straps. In an effort to put on a brave face, since I was trapped in a 4 x 5
metal box with him, I straightened my shoulders and flashed a tight grin.

“Have fun on your
date last night?” He asked with indignation.

Appalled that he
had the audacity to comment on my social life, I exhaled loudly. Just when I
was about to turn on him and tear into him he continued.

“I wonder how your
boss would feel about you bedding one of our biggest clients.”

Not quite, but I
was almost stunned silent. I turned my head with my jaw actually dropped open.
“Probably just as critical of one of his employees threatening another, Will.”
Feeling the need to confront him further I turned my body toward his and
proceeded. “And not that it is any of your business, but Hugh is also an old
friend. Whether I choose to have dinner with an old friend has absolutely
nothing to do with my work ethic.” I threw my hands on my hips and wrapped up
my argument. “And luckily the topic of whom I choose to take to bed will never
be one you have to concern yourself with. Asshole.” Luckily the elevator doors
opened so I could make a hasty getaway. My hands began to tremble with a
disturbing realization. Not only was my coworker stalking me, but now he was
subtly threatening me as well. Involuntarily, a thought crossed my mind. I
should have listened to Stacey. She was a lot of things but no one could say
that she wasn’t perceptive. She pegged Will within ten seconds of meeting him.
She actually may have even underestimated him.

I entered my
favorite deli to order my favorite sandwich. It had taken me two years to find
this place and once I had my loyalty was paramount. It was a good distance from
my office building but I was happy to make my daily contribution if it
strengthened the deli’s chances of being profitable enough to keep its doors
open. Deli’s came and went in the city and I liked my white meat chicken salad
with a touch of vinegar and shredded lettuce. It gave the sandwich that extra
zing. However the zing I was about to experience had nothing to do with a hint
of vinegar. It was far more disturbing.

I left the deli.
The bell over the door jingled my departure. It made such a cheerful sound. The
antithesis of what I was about to stumble upon. I made my way up 23
^rd
street to Broadway and hooked a left. There were several trendy restaurants in
this section of Manhattan most of which I had been to with clients. One of my
favorites was a place called Alberto’s. Aside from making the best homemade pasta
in the city, they also had the most amazing desserts. As I wound my way through
the throng of people who had gathered on the sidewalk on some sort of walking
tour, I turned my head to look inside the restaurant. Sometimes I would see the
owner and wave or my favorite waiter and smile. But instead, my heart stopped
as my eyes absorbed the sight of Stacey stretching across a table and holding
both of Hugh’s hands in hers. Her head was thrown back in laughter while he
sported his sexy smile clearly enjoying her playful banter. It was like I had
just been kicked in the abdomen but somehow developed a sudden case of Turrets
at the same time.

“That
son-of-a-bitch-mother-fucking-boyfriend-banging-whore!” I screamed. The string
of expletives left my lips with a heavy burst of air from my lungs. As my anger
grew to unmanageable levels, my fists tightened crunching the bag that held my
coveted lunch. The longer I stared the more harried my breathing became.

The swarm of
visitors whose native tongue I’d guessed was Chinese all turned to see what had
me giving them a free lesson of how to effectively string a multitude of dirty
words in English. The man next to me cupped his hands around his eyes and
pressed his face up against the window to get a better look inside. Just as
disappointment ravaged my expression, Hugh turned his gaze complete with
gorgeous white smile toward the window. I watched as his smile slowly faltered
as he realized the devastation his intimate entanglement had inflicted. I saw
him shake his head once defensively but the sight was too awful to pretend I
hadn’t seen it or that it didn’t matter. I clenched my teeth together in
response to the pain that was searing through my heart and shook my head back
at him.

He knew.

And he knew that I
knew.

I turned to make a
hasty getaway but found my efforts stymied by the crowd, which were huddling
even closer to get a glimpse of the Hugh and Stacey Show.

“Excuse me,” I
murmured but no one moved. “Pardon,” I tried but still they seemed to just spin
in concentric circles. “Scuze me,” I uttered again but their numbers seemed to
be multiplying. I was getting frustrated and really needed to get out of there
pronto. “Move!” I hollered. I saw a frail older woman jump at my outburst,
which only added ‘guilt’ to the laundry list of negative emotions pulsing
through my body. Just as I started to make some headway through the crowd, I
felt a large hand wrap around my upper arm.

“Delilah,” the
deep voice rumbled. “It’s not what you think.”

I turned to look
at the hand on my arm and then followed the appendage to the face of its owner.
I couldn’t help the tears that had begun to well. I was a frigging mess and I
was in no way, shape, or form prepared to deal with Hugh at that juncture.

I steeled myself
as best I could and gave him the coldest shoulder I could muster. “It’s exactly
what I think, Hugh. Stacey’s a good time. Have at it. Everyone else has.” I
ripped my arm from his grip and turned on my heel. I tried to control my steps
so it didn’t look like I was staggering off like an injured lamb. But whom was
I kidding? Even the Chinese gentleman who had witnessed the entire ordeal could
see that I had just been gutted. His open hand clamped over his dropped jaw was
a tell tale sign.

I dragged my
kicked-ass up to my office and tossed my perfect chicken salad sandwich into
the trashcan next to Logan’s desk. It no longer held any appeal. “Hold all of
my calls,” I ordered without inflection.

Sensing my
devastation, Logan knew enough to keep his mouth shut and just hand over the
stack of missed messages that he had intercepted before they reached my
voicemail. I lamely grabbed them and shuffled into my office. I grabbed the
door with the tips of my fingers and swung weakly. The door didn’t latch but it
was mostly closed so I left it alone and retreated to my desk. My forehead got
friendlier with my blotter as I contemplated how my day could get any worse.
After about three minutes I sensed the presence of another soul. I slowly
lifted my head and raked my hand through my hair to get it out of my face.
There stood Logan with a steaming cup of Pumpkin Scented Latte topped with an
extra dollop of whipped cream.

“Limited time
offer,” he teased. So maybe Logan wasn’t the complete waste of oxygen that I
had labeled him. “You looked like you could use this.” He took a few steps in
and placed the beverage on the corner of my desk.

I sniffled back
the threatening deluge of emotion and nodded instead.

“She isn’t worth
it, Delilah. And all of her deviousness will catch up to her sooner or later. I
know you know that already but sometimes it helps to hear it from another
person,” he added.

I nodded again
because he was right.

“Want to tell me
what she did this time?” he asked in a brotherly fashion.

I swallowed loudly
and shook my head.

“Okay. Well if you
need me I’m right outside,” he offered. In that very moment Logan didn’t seem
so inept. He actually seemed to have his finger on the pulse of what was going
on in our little nucleus. I plastered on a half-hearted smile communicating my
appreciation just as Logan turned to leave my office. Then he went and ruined
the entire moment with one simple word. “Over.”

Okay, so maybe he
wasn’t the genius that I was giving him credit for. But I had to admit what he
shared seemed very mature and fairly perceptive.

Steven approved
the speech I’d written and seemed very pleased with the way things were
progressing. He asked if Stacey and I could start off the evening with a toast,
which of course sounded logical. Then we should introduce the CEO of each company
who would announce the details of the merger. I nodded with each bullet point
he made relaying that I understood his wishes.

“Where is Stacey,
anyway?” He asked as he sat on the corner of his heavily carved, mahogany desk.

I shook my head
trying to rid my mind of the image that I’d so devastatingly witnessed on my
lunch hour. But it was a difficult task given Stacey’s glaring absence. Every
thought that ran through my mind had some component of Stacey luring Hugh from
lunch and then riding him like a champion female bull rider.

“I don’t think she
ever returned from lunch,” I shared skipping the provocative yet revolting
images that ran through my brain.

“Oh,” he said with
a hint of surprise. “Well. Maybe she is preparing for the evening ahead,” he surmised.
“This is very exciting news, Delilah. For some of us more than others.”

I thought his last
remark sounded somewhat cryptic but I was too busy trying to extricate the
image of Hugh banging Stacey in a utility closet somewhere in New York City
that had taken root in my head. So, his remark didn’t really register at the
time. He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood, which was my cue to leave.

I nodded as I
stood and thanked my boss for his support and guidance. “See you tonight,
Steven.” I know my parting words sounded deflated but I just couldn’t muster up
the enthusiasm that I’d had for this event only days before.

I unpacked the box
that had arrived the night before, which held the much-anticipated dress that
I’d been waiting for. The dress was wrinkled but I knew once I used my steamer,
the wrinkles would fall away and the dress would be perfect. I admired the
material as I ran the wand gently over the fabric to smooth it out. Delicate
navy lace fluidly cascaded over an even darker blue background. Scattered
intermittently was a dainty fleck of a sequin, which would catch the light just
perfectly. The front of the dress was conservative with fitted three quarter
sleeves and a neckline that rested just below my collarbone. The back of the dress,
however, was super sexy. The fabric loosely fell to a deep ‘v’ revealing my
entire back. It was fitted through the hips and hemmed just above the knee. I
piled loose curls on top of my head strategically leaving wisps of hair around
my face. My lip color was subtle but I did my eyes with a heavy hand creating a
smoky effect. Overall, I was happy with how the entire look came together. I
slid on my navy peep toe heels one at a time and straightened in front of my
mirrored closet doors. I turned this way and that making sure I wasn’t
unknowingly showing any undergarments. As I crossed my bedroom heading toward
my handbag, which sat on the bed, I heard my intercom come to life. I left the
handbag and walked briskly to the intercom assuming it was Davis who was
thoughtful enough to anticipate my need for a cab.