Miss Spelled (19 page)

He wraps up the call and turns to me, ‘See how much of a nice guy he is? He called my company to have me replaced. After all the work I’ve done, he threatens my job?’

Fury stirs inside me. How dare he, of all people, talk about Aiden like that.

Then it comes out. ‘You know, if you hate him that much, why don’t you just marry Geneva? That would really crush him and then you’d win everything.’

As soon as the words have passed my lips and are floating around in the space between us, I realise—too late—what I’ve said. Hunter now has the key to totally destroying Aiden. My Aiden. He can ruin his work, his team and take his fiancée from under him—literally.

His face lights up as though the thought had never occurred to him. How could it not have? It’s occurred to me, many times. Because, if the truth be told, that’s what I really want. Isn’t it? If Hunter were to marry Geneva then Aiden would be single again. Single to meet me. Available to fall in love with the short crazy woman who will end up stalking him until the end of time, even though he can’t seem to remember me, no matter how often we meet. Hasn’t that been my goal all along?

What’s the real reason I haven’t been more aggressive in my campaign to win him back? I could have stopped their relationship when Geneva and Hunter were shagging in the office, but instead of taking advantage of the situation like any other infatuated woman would have done, I let it slip by. Worse, I covered for the two of them. Why?

On my journey back out to Mel’s car, the question runs around inside my head like dodgem cars. Mel throws the door open to me and continues to put forward her ideas as we drive to the rehearsal dinner.

‘Because you are just too nice, Lou. You’d never try to break up a couple, even if you thought it was the right thing to do,’ she says.

‘Maybe I should.’

‘Would you be able to live with yourself if you did? Really?’

It’s a good question and requires a moment of thought.

‘I don’t know, Mel.’

‘Let me put it this way—do you want Aiden so badly that you will intervene in his relationship with Geneva and break his heart to get him back?’

‘What if he doesn’t want me, though? He can’t seem to remember me. There must be a reason for that,’ I say, tearing up.

‘Yeah, it’s called a magic spell gone wrong,’ she says. ‘Of course he’d want you. Why wouldn’t he?’

‘Because we come from different worlds. He’s from Toorak, for God’s sake. He went to a private school and drives a Beamer. He dates models with trust funds…’

‘Is this what’s worrying you? That you think you’re not good enough for him?’

‘I’m not tall and skinny and gorgeous. My hair doesn’t swish when it moves, my skin doesn’t glow, my legs aren’t tanned and toned, my breasts are…’ I look down at a chest that would be overjoyed to be described as modest, ‘non-existent. Why would he want me when he has gorgeous waifs and supermodels throwing themselves at him? He could have anyone he wants, why would he settle for me?’

Mel pulls the car over into a parking space so swiftly that the car behind us honks loudly.

‘Settle? Let me tell you this,’ she starts. ‘Aiden fell in love with you once. So in love, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. Your face was to be the first thing he saw in the morning and the last at night, and believe me, that’s a big decision to make. It’s forever. He went against his Mum and the entire world as he knew it, to date, fall in love with and propose to you. There is nothing about you, nothing, that says ‘settle’. You are smart and funny and gorgeous. You are kind and loving and sweet. He’d be a fool not to want you again.’

I sniff loudly and Mel hands me a tissue from her pocket. The tears that are now falling aren’t falling for Aiden. They are falling because my best friend loves me and believes in me. Even though this is an utterly crazy situation, she still believes in me. Everyone should have a Mel. But this one belongs to me and I’m never letting her go.

‘So come on, buck up little camper!’ she says. ‘Let’s go and kick some Toorak butt.’

* * *

Drastic action is needed. As soon I’ve stopped tearing up, I tell her what happened at the hospital and how Amelia isn’t coming anymore.

‘You know what you need to do, don’t you?’ she says.

‘Yep.’

I whip the phone out of my bag, flick through the stored numbers and wait for her to answer.

‘Hi Amelia, this is Lou Mercer, Hunter Wincott’s PA…Well thanks, Amelia… Look, the reason I’m ringing is that I’m concerned about Hunter…Yes, that’s right, abdominal troubles. They’re conducting tests as we speak to determine the cause. But my concern is in regards to his mental health…He’s confided in me that he took this assignment to, well, in his words, ‘exact revenge’ on a member of staff here… That’s right…I’d hate for the company to suffer reputation loss because of one employee’s inability to separate his personal and professional life…Anyway, one of the senior managers, Aiden St. James, has a workable solution to the merger, but isn’t able to present this to Hunter because of their relationship in the past…Would you? That would be wonderful, I had already made accommodation arrangements for you…Tonight, yes! We’ll have a driver ready to transfer you to the hotel…Thank you so much Amelia, I’ll see you on Monday and will let Mr St. James know you are arriving.’

Done. Unconventional and risky, but…

Mel parks the car in the multi-level parking lot of the Casino, after I advise her that parking on the concourse will only end in frustration and a complaint of discrimination on her behalf.

The Admiral’s room of the Crown Towers is decked out in cream and gold table linen, with a table set for 12 near the window that overlooks Southbank. The fire columns on the Promenade outside erupt every 15 minutes, sending a plume of flame 50 metres into the air. It lights up the river in spectacular style, with the CBD as the backdrop on the other side of the Yarra. It really is a beautiful city at night.

The guests, Aiden’s family and what can only be Geneva’s parents and grandparents, sip champagne and socialise in a stiff kind of way. There is a conservative air in the room, definitely not like a get-together with my family, where it’s so loud the entire neighbourhood pops in to see what all the noise is about, thereby creating more noise as they join in.

Aiden is dressed in a black suit and tie. How is it that one man can look equally hot in a suit as in a pair of running shorts?

We wander further into the room and mill about in the background. On my part, it’s for fear of someone finding out we’re imposters, stalkers. Mel on the other hand, looks quite relaxed.

She reads the look on my face correctly and says, ‘I actually worked here when we returned from our gap year, remember?’

‘No,’ I answer. ‘You worked in a craft shop in our other life.’

‘Craft! Really! Oooh, I bet it was fun!’

‘You two!’ a man calls to us.

I nearly jump out of my skin in fright.

‘What are you doing out here? Where are your name badges?’ he asks. He is dressed in a black and white suit, something akin to a formal penguin, and his name badge reads
Derek - Functions Manager
.

‘Ahh, we…um…’ I stammer.

‘We’re new,’ Mel says with all the confidence in the world. ‘I’m afraid we got lost. We were told to work the West function.’

I look at her with renewed admiration.
You go, girl!

‘All right then. Go and put the rest of your uniform on and come straight back. There is about to be a short rehearsal ceremony, after which you may serve the canapés and top up everyone’s champagne. Dinner will be served at 8.30pm, followed by dessert at 9.30pm.’

‘Right, the serving station is just over through those doors?’ Mel asks.

‘Yes, it is. I don’t need to remind you that this function is extremely important. The West family are treasured customers. Whatever they want, they get,’ he says, raising an eyebrow.

‘Right, got it,’ I say and nod wisely.

‘Absolutely, Derek. You can rely on us,’ Mel says.

We go about our business, hoping the staff who were actually assigned to work this function don’t question our presence, but they seem oblivious to the fact that we are strangers.

‘Lots of new faces here every week,’ Mel says. ‘There was a huge turnover of staff back in my day. No one will question us.’

Someone clinks their glass. Its high-pitched ding reverberates around my head, causing an instant headache.

‘Guests, if I could have your attention, please?’ the man says. He must be Geneva’s father, because he isn’t Aiden’s.

‘Tonight we are here to support our children as they prepare to travel down the road of marriage. My beautiful daughter, Geneva…’

He waffles on and I can’t help but tune out as he raves about how wonderful, talented and gorgeous his nympho coke-head of a daughter is, and then follows up with how lucky Aiden is to have caught such a woman in his arms. Urgh! Vomit.

Cressida is, as usual, looking as though she is chronically constipated as she clutches her glass of Cristal as if it’s holding her up. Damn, she needs a good feed. Her shoulders are pointy pinnacles at the corners of her peachy-coloured chiffon number. The coat hanger it came on probably gives it more shape than her. The smirk on her face is no doubt indicative of the fact her son is marrying into one of the country’s wealthiest families and helps to alleviate her constipated body language.

The woman next to the man speaking must be Geneva’s stepmother, because she is barely older than Geneva. The woman on the other side of him is more the vintage of a first wife and looks as though she wants to throttle Stepmum.

Aiden, my gorgeous Aiden, is standing between Geneva and Cressida, the rose between two thorns. He looks nervous, a bit fidgety. I can’t take my eyes off him.

Geneva gives the impression of happiness, but in the last few days, I’ve learnt that what you see is not what you get with her. She could win an Academy Award for her portrayal of a sweet fiancée.

‘And now, we will rehearse the ceremony,’ Geneva’s dad says as he hands the festivities over to the priest.

Shit! This is where it becomes real. This is actually happening. They are really standing in front of me, about to exchange wedding vows. The same vows that will end my dream of recapturing Aiden’s heart. It doesn’t matter that she only intends to be married to him for a little while, because his heart will be broken and he may never trust another woman enough to love again. Not even me, if he can manage to remember me for longer than 24 hours.

They stand where they are told and soon the rehearsal is underway.

As the priest commences, I have to walk away. I can’t watch. My throat chokes up and it’s hard to breathe.

Mel is standing beside me and she grabs my hand, squeezing it in hers as she leads me back into the kitchen.

Tears spring from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them away with my apron.

‘It’s okay,’ Mel says. ‘There’s still time. We’ve got all day tomorrow at the charity run.’

I smile at her, grateful that she’s here with me, but inside my heart is broken and smeared all over the inside of my ribcage, like lipstick on a mirror. My brain is a mess, unable to think about anything other than what’s happening out there, how real it is. Somehow I manage to stumble through the rest of the evening, serving meals and pouring drinks. God knows how.

After the main meal plates are taken away to the kitchen, Geneva goes missing. I rush off to the loos, expecting to find her snorting cocaine again, but she’s nowhere to be seen.

‘Where did the tart go?’ Mel asks.

‘I don’t know, I was just looking for her,’ I say.

‘What?’

‘Geneva, isn’t that who you were asking after?’

‘No,’ she bursts into laughter. ‘I was asking about the lemon soufflé tart— the dessert!’

The mistake is funny enough to make me relax a little and laugh along with her.

‘You’re such a dag!’ she says.

‘I think she left early. Probably in hurry to get back to Hunter.’

‘Do you think they’re at it in the hospital bed?’

‘Eww! No way. He’s really sick,’ I say and laugh more.

‘Yeah, how do they test for lactose poisoning anyway?’

‘Can you see Aiden?’ I ask.

‘Ahh, no. I can’t. Maybe he’s out on the balcony?’ Mel says.

‘Maybe she’s on the balcony with him.’

My gut churns and twists in opposite directions at the thought of the two of them sharing a romantic moment on the balcony — a lover’s balcony — just after the rehearsal of their wedding vows.

‘Here, take this,’ she says and thrusts a bottle of Cristal in my hand. ‘Wander out onto the balcony and offer to top up their drinks.’

My hand trembles and I am afraid it isn’t strong enough to hold the $600 bottle of champagne. Images of it slipping out of my grasp, smashing into a thousand pieces on the floor in front of everyone send shivers down my spine so violent that I wrap my other hand around the bottle and cling to it in a two-hand grasp.

Tentatively, like a little girl opening a cupboard that supposedly contains a scary monster, I open the door to the balcony and slide it across. The view is probably spectacular, but I can’t see it because my eyes are peering into the near-dark in search of two figures intertwined in a passionate embrace that will send me crying back into the main room.

There in front of me is one figure. Tall and slim, leaning against the railings. It’s Aiden. His silhouette recognisable instantly. He turns towards me.

Can he hear my heart thumping? Is he wandering what the noise is?

‘Mr St. James, would you like a drink?’ I ask.

It’s odd to be so formal with him, but playing the role convincingly is important.

‘No, thanks. I’ve got a big day tomorrow. No time for a hangover,’ he says. Something is wrong. It’s in his voice.

‘Shall I get a glass for Miss West?’ I ask, fishing for information.

‘No, she left early.’

Oh, so that’s it. She left her own wedding rehearsal early. If only he knew why.

‘I’m sure she has a good reason.’

He lets out a small grunt. ‘Hmm…maybe.’

‘I’m sure she has a lot to organise,’ I say, kicking myself for coming to her rescue. She’s a trollop who is using the love of my life for financial gain, before she dumps him unmercifully. My natural instinct to comfort him is doing me no favours at the moment. He says nothing and my impression is that he wants me to leave him alone.