Always the Last to Know (Always the Bridesmaid) (17 page)

      I start back in on Annie’s story while Riley talks to his sister, undoubtedly about breaking her big news to their mom.  I’m a good halfway through Annie’s book and there hasn’t been the slightest mention of sex.  I knew that Annie was capable of writing something that didn’t involve crazy animalistic humping.

       “Unbelievable.”  Riley breathes out as he hangs up his phone.

       “What?  Did your mom not take the news well?”

      Riley is almost laughing, but he’s not amused.  “No, Mom’s fine with it.  She’s ecstatic, even.”  His voice turns grim, “But she told Carla that I need to get a move on in fulfilling my duties of supplying my mother with grandchildren.”

      I can’t help it; a loud laugh escapes my mouth.

      Riley glares at me before adding, “By the way, no one is supposed to know about Carla.  Father McCarthy won’t perform the wedding if he knows that the bride is pregnant.”

       “I’ve already told Mom.  And Annie.”  And the barista boy at Starbucks.  And possibly the lady behind me at Starbucks, provided that she was listening to the conversation.

       “My God, Reynolds.  Are you capable of keeping any secrets?”

      I smirk at his question.  If he only knew that Matt totally wanted him.

      Hmm… I wonder what the priest would think if he knew that the bride was pregnant and the Best Man was gay? 

       “So,” Riley continues, evidently assuming that my answer was a resounding ‘no’, “are we leaving for the church together or do I need to meet you there?”

       “Meet me at the church.  I’ve seen my itinerary for the wedding day.  I don’t get a moment to breath until sometime around 9 p.m. at the reception.”

       “What all does she have you doing anyway?”

      I pull the itinerary out of my purse and sigh.  I hate this single sheet of paper almost as much as the wedding binder.

      I unfold the paper and set it on my lap, “Let’s see.  I have to be at the church at eight a.m. to make sure that everything is where it’s supposed to be.  At nine, I have to get my nails done again because Carla is certain that I’m going to bite them.”  I wave my hand in front of Riley to show off my freshly manicured nails.  I lost an hour of pay today because of them.  I smile, “But I’m not going to chew on my nails and will therefore have forty-five minutes all to myself, which I will spend in hiding.”

      Riley laughs, “Does she have an itinerary for everyone?”

      I shake my head, “No, just me and Evan.  Although the only thing that Evan’s itinerary says is: “show up at the church at 5 p.m., sober and in your wedding tux.”  That bastard is getting off so easy.”  Of course, I have to remain in contact with him on and off all day to make sure that he isn’t getting into any mischief.  Lucky me, right?

       “What else do you got?”

      I scan the list, “Okay.  At ten, I have to be at your mom’s house to make sure everything is set up there for the reception.  I also have to call the caterers to make sure, for the forty-seventh time, that the orders are correct.  At eleven, I have to be back at the church to meet Mom, Carla, and your cousin, Brittany, to make sure that the dresses fit just right.  At this time, I also have to promise not to make one snide remark about my dress for the rest of the day.  At noon, I have to actually track down Evan and make sure that he hasn’t forgotten about the wedding.”

       “Seriously?”  He leans over to me in order to see the paper.  As he does so, he slides his arm over my shoulder to steady himself.

      He smells really good.  And his thumb grazing my neck is giving me goosebumps.

      I laugh nervously, “Your sister just wants everything to go right.  It’s her day.  She’s supposed to have fun.  Everyone else can be miserable, as long as they smile in the wedding photos.  Which take place at approximately six p.m., depending on the length of the wedding.  If you don’t show up, I have been given permission to beat you within an inch of your life.  Carla would do it herself, but she doesn’t want to get blood on her wedding dress.”

      He nods, “Highly understandable.”  He looks closer at the list, “You really don’t get a minute to yourself.  I thought you were just lying so you wouldn’t have to dance with me.”

       “Trust me, I would gladly dance with you to get out of some of these Maid of Honor chores.”

      Riley raises an eyebrow and looks at me, that half-smile playing on his lips, “There was a compliment in there, I think.”

       “Maybe there was.”

      We turn away from each other and he removes his arm from around me.  We fall back into silence with him continuing to draw and me reading.  I have to admit that I’m completely engrossed in Annie’s story.  I totally relate to Bess, the main character.  I know that Annie was using me to get ideas and I really think that she put a lot of my traits into the character of Bess.  I mean, there’s the clumsiness and the fact that Bess is a little overweight.  Even if she didn’t base the character on me, I’m still wanting to know what happens to Bess.  Plus, it’s a love story and I have to know that Bess ends up with her dream guy.  I mean, I know she will, but I have to find out
how
.

     
 “Is there a reason as to why you are hiding in the garden, Mr. Tiley?”
     
 “I am not hiding in the garden.” Mr. Tiley said with a cool air. At Bess’s raised eyebrow, he sighed, “I am merely standing behind a large piece of shrubbery that just so happens to mask me from the party gathered inside.”
     
Bess laughed, “You are hiding from your mother, are you not, Mr. Tiley?”
     
 “It is my little sister’s engagement party. My mother has been reminding me that I am older than my sister Marla and am still unmarried all night long. I retreated outside before she could introduce me to the unmarried society ladies.” Mr. Tiley focused on Bess with a suspicious look, “Might I inquire as to why you are out here, Elizabeth?” He said her formal name in a dark tone eerily resembling the way in which her mother said her name.
     
 “You forget that Marla is my best friend and is younger than me as well.”
     
 “Only by a month though.”
     
 “Yes, and that is enough to send my mother into a fit of throwing every unmarried man in the room in my direction this evening. Like you, I am very much in hiding.” Bess flopped onto the small bench in the garden.  She was relieved that it was only Mr. Tiley outside. Having known one another since childhood, the two had an unspoken understanding that the manners their mothers had instilled in them were mere inconveniences easily forgotten when they were alone. Bess leaned back against the bench and watched as Mr. Tiley fidgeted with the buttons on his clothing. He gave up trying to escape his waistcoat, knowing that his mother would raise high heavens if he didn’t appear to be the prim and properbachelor she had been boasting about to all the single ladies at the ball, and sat next to Bess on the bench.
     
 “Before I go absolutely mad in this thing, could you please unbutton these cufflinks?” Mr. Tiley asked, thrusting an arm in front of Bess’ face.

     
 “I suppose I could help, but what should I ask for in return? Hmm…”  Bess put a finger to her chin in mock-thought. At the sight of Mr. Tiley’s green eyes, though, she caught her breath in her throat and let it stay stuck there for a moment. Bess could never properly handle herself whenever she met her blue eyes with Tiley’s green ones. Her best friend and Tiley’s sister, Marla, knew why Bess always felt faint at Tiley’s looks or touch, but Bess, refusing to believe Marla’s thoughts or her own feelings, never let herself think of Mr. Tiley in the way Mr. Tiley clearly thought of her.
     
However, it needs to be said that while Mr. Tiley was hopelessly in love with Bess McDonalds, he had given up the dream of ever being with her since he believed her to be indifferent of him.
     
Bess unbuttoned his cufflinks quickly, trying not to notice the feel of his skin, of his hands, touching her.She could not let herself be in love with Mr. Tiley.  However, she did not take her hands off of his.

     
It would be a smart match.  Mr. Tiley made a healthy income, which always had appeased Bess’s mother.  Bess never thought much of his money; she admired his character far too much to be concerned with his wealth.  It was true that Mr. Tiley was a generous man with a humor that fit so perfectly with Bess’s, a feat not easily accomplished by most people.

     
As she was contemplating what her heart was screaming at her head, Mr. Tiley could not stop himself.  Before either realized what had happened, his lips wereon hers.  It was such a gentle kiss that, when they parted, Bess wasn’t sure if it was Tiley’s mouth or the wind that had grazed her lips.

     
 “I apologize.”  Mr. Tiley said, staring at the ground.  “I should not have done that.”

     
 “You should have done that years ago.”  Bess smiled at him and he copied her grin before they kissed again.  Unlike the first kiss that was so gentle, this kiss was filled with more power and desire and want and urge.  Their hands roamed the other’s body.  The waistcoat that Mr. Tiley fought to get out of earlier was easily removed by Bess while he found no trouble of removing the top half of her dress to reveal her low-cut chemise.  He smiled to see her chest rising and falling in anticipation.  He cupped one of her breasts through her undergarment and she let out a soft moan before pulling him down on top of her.

     
This was not like Bess.  She rarely, if ever, took charge of a situation, especially a situation like the one unfolding with her dear friend Mr. Tiley on a bench in a garden where a party was occurring not more than twenty feet away.

     
Not only was Bess taking charge, but she didn’t care what anyone else would think.  The only thing she could attribute her change of characterto was that the love she had suppressed for Mr. Tiley throughout her life had finally burst out of the confines of her heart.  It was something that she wanted the entire world to see, even if it meant the world seeing her and Mr. Tiley now, on a garden bench, wearing as little as Adam and Eve.     

     
Mr. Tiley leaned over her, his polished hair mussed and in his green eyes caused Bess to nearly lose herself.  His body, as she had seen, was finely sculpted, and she could barely wait for him to fill her up.

     
 “Are you certain this is what you want?”  He questioned, his breathing hard.

     
 “Absolutely certain.”           

     
 “You do realize that we can never be friends again?”  Mr. Tiley asked, though the answer was already known.

     
 “I never liked you that much anyway.”  Bess said with a smile before she stroked his unbreakable manhood
.

      Oh. My. God.

      I AM GOING TO KILL ANNIE CONNELLY.

Ten

Wednesday, July 1
^st

       “What the hell, Annie?”  I don’t even say hello to her as she walks behind the windows.  I’m holding up her manuscript with a glare that would make Mussolini back the fuck off.

        “Whose bed did you get up on the wrong side of this morning?”  She asks with a laugh.  What?  How is my scowl not menacing?  I’ve been practicing it in the mirror since last night.  It’s totally fierce;
I
had become afraid of me.

       I ignore her question, and drop her story on the counter in front of her.  She looks at it for a second before raising an eyebrow at me.

        “I take it you didn’t like it?”

       My left eye twitches, “Annie, you wrote this about me!”                     

        “Don’t be silly, Jess.” She waves a hand at me, dismissing the idea.  “This story isn’t about you.”

        “Really Annie?  Because, you know, Bess McDonalds sounds quite similar to Jess Reynolds.  Then there’s Marla, which is totally Carla, but with an M.  And Mr. Tiley?  Come on, that so rhymes with Riley.”

       Annie chuckles, “Please, Jess.  It was just a coincidence.”

        “I don’t believe you.” I say matter-of-factly as I grab the story, “But I’ll accept that since I have more damning evidence.  How is this not about me?”  I open the packet to page 32 to read an excerpt, “Bess could not take her eyes off the dark-haired man that had just entered the room.  Marla had explained that her fiancée’s best friend was an attractive man of Italian heritage but attractive was nowhere near what this man was.  Bess looked at him, trying to remember his features, hoping to later replay them in her dreams: broad shoulders, dark curly hair that fell into his chocolate eyes, and a friendly smile that showed his dazzling white teeth.  He was introduced as a Mr. Pulcini, and Bess, with her strong imagination, had already thought how lovely it would be for her to be addressed as Mrs. Bess Pulcini.”

       I finish reading and Annie just stares at me, amusement dancing across her face.

        “Mancini, Pulcini.  Come on, Annie.  And that description?  That is the exact description I gave you of Matt.”