The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (76 page)

“Oh, Stace,” I grab her again. “No one deserves a special day more than you. I wouldn’t be any other place than by your side.” I pull away to look into her eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you too, pickle. Now enough of the mushy shit.”

“Okaaay,” I laugh. “But, when’s the big day? We have lots of fun planning to do.”

“Ummm, well…Thomas is adamant that we have a
quick
wedding. I think he’s afraid I’ll change my mind,” she chuckles, seemingly trying to camouflage her reply.

“I can’t say I blame him, but
how
quick exactly?” I ask cautiously.

“Less than two weeks,” she flashes a cheesy nervous grin. “Well. More like ten days,” she cringes.

“What?” my high-pitched squeal sends her grimacing playfully, and I have to roll my eyes. Leave it to Stacey to add dramatic madness to an already enormous life event. “Okay, then. Well…I guess we have a lot to do in a little amount of time. Totally doable,” I smile, finally turning to pour her glass of wine and handing it to her. “Spicy Stacey has been tamed and has fallen in love. Cheers to that,” I hold up my glass, saluting the next ten days of bittersweet distraction.

“Cheers to the fucker that made me fall in love with him,” she adds as we take a drink.

“I always knew this would happen, you know. I could tell right from the start that Thomas was ‘the one’.”

“Was Alex
the one
?”

Stacey’s continued stare and knowing gaze has me summoning every ounce of confidence I can muster, my strong shield avidly in place. “Ah, hello…this is still
your
time. Now sit your butt down, I want to hear every detail about the proposal.

“OH MY GOD, Stacey! It’s perfect.
You’re
perfect! You look so beautiful,” I beam through a well of tears.

“I
feel
beautiful!” she gushes, spinning around to take in her reflection. “Is it too much, though? I mean I get that Thomas wanted a traditional dress, I really do. But,” she turns her head to look back at me conspiratorially, “…the sexy short one you and I chose out
will
be making an appearance at the reception,” she winks, looking back to the mirror. “I admit, I do love that he picked this out.”

“He has amazing taste, and he certainly knows what suits your figure.”

“Oh, he knows my body very well,” she giggles. “And these puppies,” she cups her voluptuous breasts, “…are framed perfectly for their daddy.”

“I hate you and your big boobs,” I tease with a laugh, stepping behind her to place the sparkling choker around her neck. “You know I’m going to be a bumbling fool at the wedding, right? I’ll bawl through the entire thing.”

“You and me both, sister. I’m just not sure it will be because I’m completely, utterly in love with Thomas - which I am, of course - or because his dick will be the last I’ll ever suck,” she mutters dramatically on a laugh. “Oh, and don’t hate on the Humpty Dumplings - my boobs are my
thing
. Everybody has one. Or, in your case two, bitch - that hair of yours, for one. And don’t get me started on your ass, which looks
amazing
in your dress. Alex won’t know what hit…” she gasps, clasping her mouth, her eyes frozen on mine in our reflection. “Shit, Aby,” she turns to face me. “Damn it,” she unclasps the choker around her neck. “All this mushy shit, my brain is completely warped into lovey-dovey mode, and it just came out. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Stace,” I take the necklace from her, moving to return it to its casing, grateful for the hidden breath of composure I sneak. “I’m doing fine.”

“
Fine?
” she slurs the word to remind me that, to women, ‘fine’ means anything but.

“Really,” I roll my eyes, “I’m doing great.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now stop. This is supposed to be about you, remember?”

“Honey, it’s
always
about me,” she winks. “Besides, I think we can make your ‘great’ into greater…Let’s get out of here and hit that salon down the street for a mani/pedi. I heard they even serve
cocktails
.”

“Sounds great. Wait…how do you drink them while you’re getting your nails done?”

“Humph. Good question. You can ask for a straw, my little sugarplum, I’ll order a tall dark and handsome drink holder.”

“OH, GOOD LORD, this Cosmo is divine,” Stacey moans, sucking the last sip through the straw. “I swear, sometimes I come up with ideas of epic proportions,” she gleams her big green eyes at me, a charming smirk donning her face.

True enough, the mani/pedi idea combined with alcoholic beverages a-la-straw while we got our nails done
was
a fantastic idea. “Why do you think I’ve kept you around this long,” I tease.

“Hardy-har-har,
sweet tits
,” she sits up, testing the drying red polish on her nails. “I have a fantastic rebuke for that less than adequate assessment of our friendship’s duration, but I’ll withhold my sarcasm for the moment out of respect for those around us,” she gleams at the other patrons sitting nearby, all smiling at our incessant back and forth banter. “But, for the record, I’m sarcastic because throat punching is frowned upon,” she pauses to blow across her nails, eying me wickedly from behind her bent knuckles. “Keep that in mind when I tell you that holding my tongue physically pains me.”

I literally bust out laughing, almost snorting, my hand darting to my mouth to shield my lingering giggles as the esthetician makes her way towards us.

“Follow me, ladies,” she requests in her cockney British brogue, “Let’s get those feet soaking.”

“Mmmm, music to my ears,” Stacey drawls as we follow behind her. “Hey, be honest,” Stacey displays her perfectly manicured fingers, “…does this color make me look like a whore? If not, I have to pick another one.”

“Shut up,” I nudge her into the seat.

“Sweet heavenly Jesus,” she sighs on a whisper, submerging her feet in the miniature hot tub, leaning back in the massage chair, eyes closed. “My ideas are epic, aren’t they?”

“Almost always,” I tease, smiling at my best friend.

Screw you
, she mouths through a playful smirk, not bothering to open her eyes to look at me.

Laughing, I shake my head and reach for a magazine on the table.
Glamour UK
. My breath hitches on a painful sigh as I’m assailed with the memory of Alex’s stunning face gracing the cover not so long ago.
World’s Sexiest Man.
He’s so much more than that very accurate designation. The thought of just how much more burns through my system until it reaches the tips of my fingers, singeing them at my hold of the memory-eliciting nuisance. I quickly drop it, its unopened pages flung from my hold like unwanted filth.

I’d managed to get through most of the day so far without giving in to the pain he’s left in my heart, only to be reminded by something as innocent as a stupid magazine.
Well, I’m not perusing my nose through that particular one
, I grab another, sniffing back my heart’s warning of impending tears. Although it doesn’t matter what I do anyway, something always brings me back to him, leaving me reeling in the empty feeling that consumes me in his absence, as equally as he consumed me in his presence.

Time and distance is slowly chipping away at my heart, but more hurtfully is that he’s yet to reach out to me.
Thirteen long days
- and that fact is seeping into the breaking cracks, threatening to shatter me.
He needs time
…his parting words are like razors in my stomach. I swallow hard, desperate to wash them away. How much time does he need?

Isn’t this killing him as much as it’s killing me?
I purse my lips inwardly, rolling my shoulders to push off the sheath of fragility the thought of him has created. I need to be strong, no matter how much the words
I’m losing him
crash through my core.

Sitting up straight on a breath of composure, I flip through the pages of my second choice,
Hello
Magazine. I’m unfamiliar with many of the celebrities plastered throughout - not surprising, given it’s the UK edition - but it doesn’t matter. My aimless perusal is perfectly numbing as I catalogue their fashion choices and hairstyles, versus paying attention to who they are and what they’re doing.

I stop to admire an attractive woman’s hair, wondering if I need a change myself, before turning the page. My eyes widen, almost to the point of blurring as I take in Alex’s stunning face, my lips parting on an unwelcome gasp.

“What is it?” Stacey asks in alarm, pulled from her semi-conscious relaxation.

I can’t formulate a reply as my focus returns, absorbing the images. I’m completely tongue-tied, quickly flipping a glance at the issue date on the cover.
Current. No!
It can’t be
, I return to the inside pages, staring transfixed at Alex…and Julia.

Standing side by side at some sort of event, they look the epitome of the happy couple. Bile rises in my throat as I aimlessly turn the pages, the numerous pictures of them together returning my vision to a blur…Alex leaning into her, his arm wrapped around her waist as he whispers in her ear. Her smiling face cuts through me with a boomerang strike of anger. A combination of bone crushing hurt and rage that I can feel down to my toes.

“Aby? Is that Alex?” Stacey leans over, peering at the pages gripped in my trembling hands.

My mouth opens long before I manage to get the words out, “Alex…a-and Julia.” I can’t stop myself from staring at his perfect face leaned into her ear.

“What do you mean, Alex and
Julia
?” she mutters, tearing the magazine from my tight hold. “I don’t understand…these photos were taken in L.A.. He’s in L.A. with
her
?” she questions, shaking her head at the images as though looking for an answer that isn’t there.

I’m going to be sick.
The memories of his parting words lash me once more…
I’m going back alone, Aby
. He lied. He wasn’t going alone. He was going with
her
. ‘Alone’ translation: without
me
. My worst fear when he left coming to fruition, smacking me dead in the face through the superfluous pages of a celebrity tabloid - Alex has reunited with Julia.
I’ve lost him
. He needed
time
, a ‘break’ from
us
to work everything out…a break that was merely a prelude to the breaking of my heart.

“Aby?” she pulls me back to the present. “These pictures don’t mean anything…”

“Don’t they?” I barely whisper, numbness seeping in, my body fighting to quell the ache consuming me. I stare straight ahead, my focus turned off, realizing why he hasn’t called. His acting skills could never hide the truth from me. I would have heard it in his voice.
But, surely he would have known I could find out this way.

“God, Abs, I’m so sorry. I can only imagine how you’re feeling right now, but clearly you’re in shock.”

Turning to look into Stacey’s watchful eyes, I shrug my shoulders slightly, my act of bravado an epic failure as my eyes well with tears. “I always knew it was a strong possibility. I’m not in shock. It’s just…having it smack me in the face…” I trail off, unsure how to articulate my disdain at the moment for Alex’s very public life, despite my many months having become accustomed and acceptant to it. At this very moment, I
hate
that he’s a celebrity.

“Awe, babe,” she reaches over to squeeze my hands. “I assure you, you’re in shock. Otherwise, you’d be flipping right the fuck out. Or, maybe deep down you realize that you’re making assumptions - assumptions that aren’t worth making at the cost of the pain in your eyes right now.”

“A picture is worth a thousand words, Stacey.”

“Yeah, and there are times when all of those words are
whore
,” she jabs her finger in Julia’s face on the page. “But just because she’s a ratchet whore, doesn’t mean Alex…”

I look away, taking deep breaths through my nose to fight off angry, painful tears.

“Abs, listen to me. I know you’ve said you thought he’d go back to her, but let’s face it, that’s bullshit.
I
thought for sure that…well fuck…I don’t know what I thought anymore. Yes, I agree,
this
looks bad. But you can’t do this to yourself. Not without confirmation from Alex.”