The Blogger and the Hunk (7 page)

“Why the hell does she even bother to say yes to the plans if she’s not going to stick with them? You know that’s one of my biggest pet peeves, Celeste,” Jack responded, trying to control his temper.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right. I’ll be there in a few,” Celeste tried to soothe. “She’s my big sister, she’s busy. She’s just—”

“Yeah, apparently too busy to do her baby sister some favors. Look, I’m not a sentimental guy, but I was taught family always comes first. I’m sorry, but your sister just infuriates me. I’d rather not meet her now.”

“Jackie, come on. This is my sister you’re talking about. I love her, I adore her, and sometimes she’s gotta have some time to take care of herself.”

“Please tell me you’re at least going to make her pay.”

“Well, I did tell her I would be the one choosing her dress for the engagement party on Saturday.” Celeste laughed through the receiver.

“That’s it?”

“Hey, if you knew Penny, you would completely agree that wearing a dress I’ve chosen is punishment enough. If she had her way, she would probably wear sneakers, jeans, and a hoodie to the party. Now I get an excuse to dress her up!”

“I’ll never understand you,” Jack responded simply.

There was a small pause. “Look, she’s always taken care of me, always been the voice of reason in my head when my parents were too busy with work to pay attention to their rebellious younger daughter. Just cut her some slack, it hasn’t been easy for her either.”

Jack could hear the pleading in her voice. “Jesus, Celeste. You make me sound like a monster. All I’m saying is why should she bother to commit to help with the wedding plans when she isn’t going to be involved in any of the planning. I get it, she’s not the maid of honor, but she did agree to choose the flower decorations for the engagement party. The least she could do is try to be interested.”

He could hear Celeste take a deep breath on the other line. “I’m almost there, Jackie. Don’t move.”
Click.

Jack turned the screen off on his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. He couldn’t understand how it was that his kindhearted friend Celeste had a sister so mean, so bitter, and so completely vile. He had never met the woman yet he didn’t think he would
ever
want to meet her after all she’d done—or hadn’t done. It was one week until the engagement party and she didn’t even have the decency to check up on any of the plans. Sure, she wasn’t the MOH, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t seem at least a little concerned for her sister’s engagement party plans.

Wasn’t it supposed to be a big deal for women that their wedding events be perfect as they led up to the big day? Besides, he had no fucking idea what kind of flower arrangements to get for the party. If it were up to him, he would have eloped in Vegas at a drive-thru wedding chapel. For the reception: a round of drinks at a bar and fucking around with the slot machines. That sounded like the perfect wedding to him. No need for so much planning, puffy dresses, angry bridesmaids, and cold, disgusting wedding food.

There was only a week until the engagement party and then only a little over two months before the actual wedding. Jack didn’t understand the rush. Celeste was with Bryan 24-7 already; it wasn’t like marriage was going to change that anytime soon. He supported her nonetheless, and believed in her happiness, which was more than what he could say for her awful, uninterested sister. He had half a mind to ask Celeste for her number and give her a taste of angry Jack over the phone.

He spotted Celeste’s car parking on the street. “To her happiness,” he whispered and walked toward her car to meet her.

* * *

P
enelope was just about to lose her mind, if she hadn’t lost it already. Two books edited in the span of five days. Reading wasn’t difficult. What made it difficult was the amount of mistakes she was expected to correct and the polishing she was getting paid to do. It didn’t help matters that she was a slow reader. Penelope was feeling guilty for blowing her sister’s plans off the entire week. She didn’t go look for a DJ, or choose the flower centerpieces for the engagement party, or even the food, which had to be her favorite part at gatherings. She was dreading the promise she’d made to Celeste about agreeing to wear the dress of her choosing.

She wasn’t worried about the dress being ugly or making her look like a clown, but she was almost completely sure it wasn’t going to be comfortable. Celeste was all about fashion and looking good while Penelope was all about comfort, whether it made you look frumpy or not. That black lace dress she had worn the night she’d lost her virginity, Celeste had chosen and Penelope had bought on a whim. Would she ever wear it again?

There was a quick knock at her apartment door. Penelope jumped a bit, feeling jittery. She stood and walked over to the door to unlock it. Celeste barged in.

“Penny, why did it take you so long to open the door? You got company? Hmm? Oh, here’s your dress. I bought it for you. I mean, of course I bought it for you, who else would—”

“Celeste!
Respira!
Can you take a deep breath and talk slower? You’re going at a hundred miles per hour with that mouth of yours.” Penelope tried soothing her sister’s rant while silently giving the clothing box the stink eye.

Celeste took a deep breath. “You know, I should actually be angry with you at the moment. You haven’t been very supportive lately.”

Penelope sighed. “Celeste, I told you. My week was filled with two books that needed thorough editing, and on top of that the authors wanted to meet up face-to-face in order to go through the changes. These aren’t just any authors. They are
New York Times
best sellers! I couldn’t just blow this opportunity, you know that!”

“Actually, I don’t know that. I don’t know about authors you work for. What I do know is that I’ve felt a little abandoned by you. Jackie has been wonderful with the preparations. We’ve been going everywhere to get the planning done for today.”

“Well, then I’m glad Jackie is doing such a great job as your MOH,” Penelope responded dryly.

Celeste ignored the sarcastic remark and set the box on the bed. “Try it on,” she demanded, pointing to the box.

Penelope was about to refuse when Celeste gave her the guilt trip look with her puppy dog eyes. There was nothing she couldn’t get with that look. Penelope took the top off the box and grabbed the smooth navy material in her hands. She had to hand it to her sister; she certainly knew how to dress people up.

“This is a bit much isn’t it?”

“No way! It’s just enough, thank you very much. Now, you’re going to wear those red heels I know you have hiding all the way in the back of that mess of a closet. Those pumps are perfect.”

Penelope merely sighed for the hundredth time that day. Those blasted red heels. The ones
he
had liked.

“You better hurry up and get dressed. You only have a few hours before the party.”

“Hey, well what about you? Aren’t you the one who needs to get dressed? It’s
your
engagement party we’re celebrating,” Penelope shot back.

“Yeah, but at least I know how to dress and pamper myself for the occasion. You, on the other hand, would end up going to the party in sneakers and jeans with some sloppy eyeliner.” Celeste looked her up and down, noting the fuzzy socks, Chip ‘n’ Dale Chipmunk pajama pants, white T-shirt, and a messy bun that didn’t look cute at all. She sighed in disappointment. “Well, seems like I have my work cut out for me.”

Celeste began pulling Penelope toward the bathroom. She decided to put her foot down. “Hey! Celeste, come on. I haven’t shaved my legs, don’t have any deodorant on, my breath stinks, my eyes are crusted, I look like shit really. I can dress myself, I promise,” she pleaded.

“Oh, no you don’t. I’ll take care of you. When I’m done with you, you won’t even recognize yourself.”

Penelope groaned. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I
f there’s one thing people don’t tell you about sex, it’s this: if your first time was nothing short of amazing, you’re going to crave it again. And again. And again. It’s this need not only for the physical act of sex, but also the feeling of having someone else in your bed beside you. Once you’ve shared a bed with someone, it’s difficult going back to your own cold empty bed, alone.

DIARY OF A WALLFLOWER: Entry 133

Penelope took one last look in her car mirror and stepped out toward the venue. It was a simple ballroom decorated with ivory-colored tablecloths, elaborate centerpieces of daisies, sunflowers, and lime flower buds, and beautiful chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The light brightened the room beautifully, but all Penelope could think of was finding a way to turn the lights off. There was a reason she never dressed up. People always made such a big damn deal if she looked like a woman once in a while.

“Penny, is that you?”

Oh shit. And so it begins.

“You look so beautiful!” Jasmine exclaimed, walking toward Penelope with Stephanie trailing behind her.

“You’re hot! I love this,” Stephanie continued, smothering Penelope with compliments. “This wasn’t your idea was it? You look too good for you to have dressed yourself.”

“Gee, thanks. That’s exactly what I want to hear right now,” Penelope shot back uncomfortably. “Could we just not do this right now, you guys? I’m trying not to bring any attention to myself and remain calm while I focus on walking in these damn heels.”

Her friends looked down at the red pumps. Jasmine let out a whistle and nudged Stephanie. “Me thinks someone is feeling a bit lucky tonight.” They both giggled and looked at Penelope smugly. “Those are the same pumps you wore when you were fu—”

“Penny! You’re finally here! Mom and Dad are mingling right now.
Tita
is here already with
Tia
Lupita, so don’t forget to say hi. Bryan’s over there talking to some of his friends. They are actually pretty cute to tell you the truth, so you should definitely go strike up a convo with one of them. I would go for the guy with the curly black hair. He’s cuter and the perfect height for you. I heard—”

“Shh! Celeste! Stop saying things like that so damn loudly!” Penelope interrupted her sister. “You get too hyperactive. How many glasses of champagne have you had?” she asked, eyeing the glass her sister held.

“This might be my third. It’s so sweet. I just needed a little to calm my nerves. This planning had me exhausted! Which reminds me! You can finally meet Jackie!”

“Oh great,” Penelope deadpanned. Luckily her sister was too buzzed and distracted to notice, but she had no problem dragging her across the floor toward a large group of young women at one end of the room.

Oh crap. This is it, Penelope. You finally get to meet the woman who took the role you should have been doing if you weren’t such a selfish person. The least you can do is thank her. No hard feelings, no remorse. A simple thank-

Penelope slightly lost her footing and her mind muddled at the sight of the man standing in between all the hooker-looking girls. It couldn’t be. She looked from his dark blond, silky hair to the chiseled body enhanced by the clothes he was wearing to his perfectly proportionate face. Penelope froze. It was
him
. Not just any him. It was her one night of pure bliss. Her first kiss, her very first one-night stand.

“Jack,” she whispered under her breath. She spun around to avoid the awkward meeting. She needed to get out of there quick. Instead of swiftly heading right out the door of the venue, she collided with a waiter holding a tray filled with champagne glasses.

Shit.

Everything was a blur. Glasses flew off the silver tray, crashing onto the beautiful floor, and the waiter slipped on the spilled champagne. He luckily caught his footing before he could fall flat on his back. Penelope stood still, all sound only muffled noise in the distance. Only the sound of her shallow breaths and the blood rushing through her head surrounded her, enveloping her in a suffocating embrace. She held her eyes closed tightly.

This is all a bad dream. You are going to wake up. Wake up, Penelope. Wake up! WAKE THE FUCK UP, PENELOPE!

“Penelope, are you okay?” Celeste slowly asked her, rubbing her arm with her warm hand.

Penelope took one more deep breath and turned toward her sister, slowly opening her eyes. Conversation in the room was only a soft murmur, and she realized how embarrassing she must have looked with her eyes closed and her hands in fists at her sides.

Then another voice spoke to her. “You all right? Did you hurt yourself?”

Penelope turned her head up. Her eyes met a pair of gorgeous emerald-green ones she remembered from all those weeks ago. His face held concern.

All trace of it disappeared and recognition began to take form.

Oh shit. Please don’t recognize me. Please don’t say anything. Just kill me now, Lord. At least make me faint to stall this.

“I-I’m fine th-thank you,” she murmured nervously. The look in his eyes became so intense that she couldn’t hold his gaze anymore and looked back at the ground.

The music began playing again and the crowd surrounding them broke apart. Penelope’s mom came running through the crowd, her father close behind.

Her mom broke the silence. “You okay,
mija
? You hurt yourself? You know you were never good with high heels. You should have worn your sneakers! Want some ice?” Her mom fussed, pinching her cheeks and messing what little makeup she had on.

“Need a drink?” her father joked.

“I think I’m good. I don’t need an extra shot of clumsy,” Penelope responded, sneaking a look Jack’s way.

“Oh, I guess introductions are needed, right? Penny, this is Jack. Jackie, this is Penelope,” Celeste said.

“Jackie?”

“Penelope?”

Penelope and Jack looked at each other, unable to fathom the apparently bad luck they had.

“W-w-wait a minute, Celeste.
He
is your maid of honor?”

“Yeah, I told you it was him, didn’t I?”

“No!”

“Yes, I distinctly remember saying Jackie was my MOH,” she stubbornly explained.