THE JUNIOR BRIDESMAID (29 page)

BOOK: THE JUNIOR BRIDESMAID
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            As
luck would have it, it didn’t take me long to find exactly what I was looking
for. A plum colored two-piece nightie that had black lace cups and black lace
accents on the sides of the panties. The rest of it was silky smooth with a
hint of shimmer. It was perfect. I hurried to the dressing room and tore my
clothes from my body. As soon as I let the top slide over my head and down my
torso, I knew I made the right choice. I looked in the mirror, fixed my boobs
(Angela’s advice and the importance of balance never really left me,) and
smiled. I was happy with my findings and decided in an effort to save time that
I would just leave it on. I bundled up my clothes, put my boots back on and
threw on my coat. No one would be the wiser. I went straight to the register
and paid for the set and high tailed it out of the store.

Since Hugh had
rented a place on the Upper West Side, I wasn’t as familiar with the territory
as I would have been where I had lived previously. So I took out my phone to
look up a location for the closest liquor store. As soon as I started swiping
at my phone, it began to vibrate and sing. My body jumped at the startling
sensation. I focused on the screen and saw it was Julia.

            “Hey,”
I sang with my inflection dipping lower at the end. Since I had to keep moving,
I looked both ways as I jaywalked across the street.

            “You
could have said goodbye,” I could tell by the tone she was using that she
wasn’t nearly as angry as she was leading on. I was guessing this was due to an
overnight visit from Mason.

            “You
weren’t alone,” I answered as I trotted a little faster. “And there was no way
that I was going to interrupt.”

            Knowing
that I had a point, instead of continuing with the fruitless banter, Julia
started to giggle and got down to business. “Can you believe it, Dee?”

            I
chuckled back before I responded. “Uh. I think I pretty much called that one,
didn’t I?” I bragged as I stepped onto the curb.

            “Maybe,”
she answered. Then I heard her sigh heavily and I knew it was due to the
satisfaction she was feeling. Her entire demeanor melted as she began again.
“He really is great. He’s kind, and cute, and he has this hidden passion that I
never knew existed. It’s kind of intense. But the best part is I know he is
only mine,” she admitted.

            “That’s
great, Jules,” I agreed. “Hold on one second.” I stared at my phone and pressed
a few buttons to get back to my home screen. I needed to see exactly where I
was going to get the champagne. Once I saw the location I put the phone back to
my ear. “Okay. Go ahead.”

            “Well.
Now I just have to
not
screw it up.”

            “Well
you know what they say…the first step is admitting it.” I scoured the buildings
for an address and walked feverishly at the same time. I spotted the liquor
store on the next block and walked purposefully full steam ahead. “Just take it
easy, Julia. Ya know, enjoy the ride,” I began to huff and puff from power
walking.

            “You’re
right. I’ll try,” she relented. “Um, Dee, what are you doing?”

            “Oh,”
I answered quickly. “I am on a mission to surprise Hugh. I just picked up the
sexiest undergarment you could possibly imagine and now I am getting
champagne,” I squealed at the end.

            “Is
it crotch-less?” she asked.

            “Uh,
no. So, maybe it isn’t the sexiest
you
can imagine but it’s pretty nice,” I corrected.

            “Cool,”
she remarked. “Ooo, gotta go. Mason’s on the other line. But if you really want
to make it memorable go back and get the crotch-less,” she advised.

            I
chuckled at her advice. Since when had she become the sex goddess? “Oh, okay,
Jules,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.” There was no way I was going back to
search out a crotch less negligee but I didn’t want to burst Julia’s bubble.
She would be too distracted to remember anyway. “Call ya later.”

            “Bye,”
she hurried and disconnected.

            I
walked into Mooney’s Wine and Spirits like I owned the joint. I was running out
of time and didn’t need to browse the shelves.

            “Champagne!”
I barked to the guy behind the counter. “What aisle?”

            “Uh,
do you want it chilled or are you planning on refrigerating it when you get
home?” he astutely asked.

            “Oh,
good point, uh, I need it chilled,” I quickly answered.

            “Back
wall. Refrigerator,” he called out as I power walked to the back of the store.
“To the left!” He yelled directing me from afar.

I found the
refrigerator and grabbed a medium priced bottle of champagne. Gripping the
bottle by the neck, I pumped my arms as I walked so I could make it to the
register even faster.

            Having
been through this drill before, the employee snapped the bag before I got there
and slid it in smoothly as I passed him the bottle. “$29.99,” he called out. I
whipped out my trusty credit card and finished the transaction. “Good luck,” he
called out as I made my way through the door waving my hand as a thank you back
at him.

            I
checked my phone again and realized I was beginning to cut it close. I decided
to play it safe and call Hugh to make sure he was still out looking for window
treatments. I walked as I dialed hoping that my path wouldn’t cross his.

            The
phone had barely rung when his deep sultry voice had me biting my lip. “Hey.
How’s my girl?”

            “Pretty
good,” I sighed. “Just checking in,” I sort of lied.

            “Okay.
Well I am literally stepping inside the store to buy blinds,” I quickly realized
how accurately he was communicating his blow-by-blow because the sounds that
were so indicative of city life began to dull with his entry into the store. It
occurred to me that if I could hear all the commotion from the city through his
phone then he could hear it through mine. Concerned with blowing my surprise
visit too soon, I cupped my hand over the phone to muffle the surrounding
noises. Thankfully, Hugh didn’t seem to notice one-way or the other. “Or is it
shades?” he continued. His confusion with his options of window coverings was
obviously monopolizing his focus. “What am I buying again?”

I shifted my hand
off of the speaker before I answered. “Um. You’re buying blinds,” I informed
him with a hint of aggravation. I think I even harrumphed unnecessarily as if
his purchase was a no brainer. In an effort to distract Hugh from the New York
City acoustics that shrouded me, I was sounding like a nagging wench.

“Oh. Okay. Are you
going to run me over with the car if I buy shades?” he asked sarcastically in
response to my over the top remark.

I had to pull
myself together. I was going to blow the entire surprise if I didn’t calm down
and stop panicking. “Ha, ha,” I exaggerated. “Very funny.”

“Are you okay? You
seem a little out of sorts. Did you hear from Charles?” Crap. Hugh was getting
suspicious. He knew something was bothering me and asked about Charles figuring
that he was the reason I was acting so peculiar.

As I looked up,
aggravated with my inability to pull off a simple surprise, I could see a cab
barreling down 92nd Street. There was no doubt he was in a hurry and trying to
make the green light. My eyes travelled ahead of his car where I found another
cab stopped on the corner letting an older woman out of the back. He was
blocking the road and any possible chance of the other cab making the light. Uh
oh. I knew what was coming. I had lived in New York long enough to know the
signs - an all out, full on, straightened arm so your fist is imbedded in the
horn press. My head flew left and right looking for somewhere I could escape
before the ‘horn blower’ reached the corner.

            I
cleared my throat hoping that in addition to my hand still cupping the speaker
might somehow conceal any honking that might commence prematurely and answered
Hugh’s question with a much softer tone. “No. Mnmn.” I hurried to the corner
deli and pushed the door open to step inside just as the horn blower reached
the corner.

            “Oh.
Well, don’t worry, Baby. I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon,” I could hear an
elevator ding on Hugh’s end and knew he had stepped inside. “I might lose you.
I’m getting in an elevator,” he warned me of our potential disconnection.

            Well
thank goodness for that.

            “Oh.
Okay. Well, call me later,” I suggested.

            “Okay.
Bye, Babe,” he was gone. I exhaled loudly emitting the stress of my narrowly
missed discovery. But at least I knew he wasn’t in his apartment.

I exited the store
and rounded the corner to head down the street of what I was hoping would be my
new home. As I stepped in front of Hugh’s building I got a sudden feeling of
déjà vu. It was as if this was meant to be and I was finally on the right track
of my life. The building was quite nice. It was a stately brick with a green
awning and gold lettering. I took a deep breath stepping closer to the door.
This was it. I finally felt like I was home. I smiled at the thought and was
met by a man who could only be described as ‘not Davis.’ He was older, grayer,
and not nearly as welcoming. He had on a hat, which was just as ridiculous as
Davis’ but the similarities stopped there. I lost my wide ass smile
immediately.

“Can I help you,
dear?” He asked with a large stick up his ass.

I swallowed hard
before I began. His presence on a whole made me uncomfortable. And I knew at
that very moment I was about to be met with a fair amount of resistance. “Yes.
You have a new tenant. Mr. Matthew Rowen and I am, um, Mr. Rowan’s girlfriend,”
I fake giggled trying to soften him up. I gave him a huge smile to bolster his
impression that I was a friend. Not a foe.

“No, you’re not,”
he answered curtly.

I saw his eyes
follow my eyebrows, which slowly rose to my hairline. “I’m not?” I shook my
head.

“No, you’re not.
Mr. Rowen is married and she has blond hair,” he stated with conviction. “What
game are you up to, young lady?” he queried in response.

“Are you sure you
aren’t mistaken?” I asked innocently. “
I
am Mr. Rowen’s girlfriend,” I assured. I didn’t want to get too ornery since my
last encounter with a person over the age of 60 landed me in the back of a
patrol car.

“Listen. I don’t
want to get in the middle of anyone’s love life. But I don’t want to see a
sweet young girl like you get hurt. Mr. Rowen has a wife and a child. She was
here last week,” he whispered. “Apparently they are moving up from Virginia and
Mr. Rowen came up first to get them settled. Now you should go find yourself a
nice, single man.” He turned me gently with his hands and escorted me to the
outer doors.

I glanced down at
his nametag and then back at his eyes. “Richard,” I asked and watched him nod that
he heard me call his name, “that wasn’t Mr. Rowen’s wife,” I assured. We
stopped so we could finish our conversation as I had apparently caught
Richard’s ear. Maybe he was one of those doormen who liked gossip. “Just to be
certain, was the little girl blond as well?”

He nodded again.

“Was her name
Dolly?” I queried.

“Yes!” Richard
responded. “She wasn’t shy in sharing her name which was the first indication
that she wasn’t from around here. You need a crowbar and a sledgehammer to get
a New Yorker to share any information,” he explained how he astutely concluded
that Darcy and Dolly were out-of-towners. “Are you telling me the woman and
child that came to stay with him were not Mr. Rowen’s family?”

I was already
shaking my head before he finished. “No. They were his family. Just not his
wife and child. That was his sister-in-law and his niece,” I explained.

“Well that
explains a lot,” Richard looked somewhat relieved. “You know it was confusing.
She introduced herself as Darcy Rowen so of course I assumed that they were
married,” he clarified.

“Of course. That
would be confusing,” I agreed. “But, listen Richard, I would like to surprise
Mr. Rowen. He doesn’t expect me. Do you think it would be okay to keep it a
secret? Between you and me?” I questioned with hope in my tone. I was pretty
sure I had him. Richard and I had made a connection and his head was no longer
shaking from side to side but nodding up and down. That was a good sign.

“Absolutely not,”
he replied without a hint of uncertainty.

Oh. Well so much
for our connection.

“Um, Richard.
Please. I bought this champagne and, well,” my eyes dropped to the Victoria’s
Secret bag that was dangling from my fingers. Richard didn’t know that my jeans
and sweater were in that bag and the goods, so to speak, were already on my
person. “I bought, um, s,s,some other things and I was hoping to surprise him
when he gets back,” my lips tipped up at the corners hoping to convey my
sincerity.

“Oh, of course. I
understand,” Richard answered.

“You do?” I said
with a hint of surprise.

“Yep. But I can’t
let you into Mr. Rowen’s apartment without his permission. And I am guessing
since you are here to surprise him that you didn’t get permission. Is that
right, Miss…Miss?” He paused hoping I would share my name.

“Delilah,” I stated
flatly feeling completely deflated. I had made it so far and now I was going to
be derailed by an anal retentive doorman who was hell bent on keeping that 2 by
4 lodged up his own ass.

“I’m sure you
understand for security purposes I can’t let uninvited guests into the
building. Let alone into someone’s apartment.”

Of course I
understood logistically. But emotionally his obstinacy was a pain in my ass.
“There must be some solution,” I somewhat asked.

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