The Wedding Wager (McMaster the Disaster) (6 page)

“The park?”

“Yeah, you know, making some money.”

“Oh right,” I said. I’d kind of hoped that would go away. “Um, not really.”

Her face fell, though she composed herself quickly. “Okay, well… if you change your mind…”

“Yeah, sure. I know where to find you,” I said, flashing my most ironic smile.

“Yeah.” She chuckled, walking away. “Say hi to Jen for me.”

Jen? I thought. She’s on a nickname basis with Jen now? I mean, I suppose she was kind of stalking Jen at the same time as me. Jen had been a bridesmaid in the lotto too, not to mention Jake had helped set her up with one of his favorite actor buddies who just happened to be almost as famous as him.

I shook my head, marveling at what a weird world it could be sometimes.

Jen came in from the kitchen as I was pulling my last bag in through the door.

“How was it?” she asked, shoveling a mouthful of ice cream.

She always seemed to be eating these days even though no one would ever guess from the outside that she was pregnant.

“So awesome,” I said, and thought I detected her face fall, just a little.

She nodded for me to go on.

“The weather was amazing except for a couple rainy days. Oh!” I said, excited. “And I sort of learned how to cook.”

Jen nearly dropped her spoon. “Really? Like cook cook, not just bake brownies?”

“Yes, cook, cook. Like whole meals.”

Jen shook her head as if in shock. “That’s unbelievable. And you didn’t kill anyone? Like the world’s most famous movie star?” she teased.

I put my hand on my hip and gave her a look. “No, Jake is still alive and well.”

“Awesome,” she said, sitting. “Sorry, do you mind if we sit? I’m just so tired all the time now.”

“Good Lord, I could sit for the rest of my life. Why is it when you come back from vacation it’s like you need a whole other vacation to recuperate?”

“Well, it was a three week vacation. You get any writing or anything done?”

“Writing? I hadn’t really thought about writing, why?”

She shrugged. “I just thought since you were talking about finding a job just before you left you might sneak in some practice or something. Or finish your novel.”

“My novel?”

“Yeah, the one you started when you were overseas.”

I crinkled my brow. “The biography?”

She sighed, rolling her eyes to the sky. “No, not the biography, the other book.”

I could tell she didn’t want to come right out and say it. “The other book?” I asked, playing dumb.

“Oh for Pete’s sake. Your romance novel,” she growled.

“Oh that,” I said, hamming it up. Then I realized what she was actually saying. “So, you read the whole thing?”

“Well, so far,” she said. “I’m sort of dying to find out what happened.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. Jen of all people was dying to find out what happened in my romance novel. Or any romance novel for that matter.

“Shut up,” she said, giving me a whack on the arm. She actually glanced around, making sure no one would hear even though we were sitting in our own living room by ourselves.

“Seriously though, I didn’t know if it was worth finishing. I mean, I only started writing the stinking thing as a procrastination tool to avoid writing the book I was actually supposed to be writing.”

She ducked her head practically into her ice cream. “But it’s so good. You really should finish it.” She shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you could sell it and you wouldn’t have to worry about your whole money situation anymore.”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure I’ll get it finished and sell it before rent is due.”

“What have you got to lose?”

“I guess,” I said, skeptical.

“Besides, what more perfect time to work on your romance novel than after a three-week long romance trip?” she smirked.

“You know very well it wasn’t a romance trip.”

“Oh please.”

“Jake was mostly working,” I said. “I mean, we had some nights to ourselves, but by the time the day was through, Jake was so tired we usually just went to sleep.”

“Isn’t Bali supposed to be like, the most romantic place in the world or something? What about that movie?”

“Um yeah, that’s why they’re filming there,” I said.

“Well, get used to it,” she said. “He’s gonna be working solid at least for the next three years. Lord knows, in his business you’ve got to work while the working’s good. Can’t take any time off when you’re hot. That’s how people get pushed aside faster than you can say celebrity career rehab.”

She looked into her ice cream as if she’d just remembered she’d forgotten something and got up to head to the kitchen. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, but I did not like the implications of what she was saying.

“It’s actually a miracle,” she said, stepping back into the room, “that Jake’s even agreed to take time off for the wedding. Did you guys decide on a date while you were gone?”

“No, we didn’t even really talk about it. There’s plenty of time.”

She tilted her head. “For you maybe, but for Jake… I don’t know.” She shoveled another mouthful. “Oh well, it’s not like he has to be that involved other than standing up there and saying I do.” She set her bowl down. “I’m gonna take a shower before bed. Sweet dreams, romance girl,” she said, actually patting me on the head.

Romance girl. Ha. Jen sure had a knack for making me take a long look at a situation. I mean, she was right, we were in one of the most romantic settings in the world and we didn’t even talk about the most romantic day of our lives? I couldn’t help but wonder if Jake was really into having a wedding at all. What if he was just stalling? Although, it wasn’t like I’d brought it up either.

God, what was wrong with me?

I shook the idea from my head. Everything was fine. I was just being paranoid because Jen was talking about romance novels. And just because the trip to Bali was more of a working one than a romantic one, did not mean that something was wrong with our relationship. It just meant that I was so dedicated to Jake that I would fly halfway around the world just to spend time with him.

Besides, I had my own stuff, right? Like the book, I actually could keep working on the book; it was at least half done. Why wouldn’t I want to finish it?

I took a deep breath and got up to look out the window. Andrea was down there blowing steam off a cup of coffee and I remembered that things were pretty darn good in my life. Maybe I didn’t have the fairy tale like my mother was so intent on me having. So much that, let’s face it, she was pretty much planning a Cinderella wedding, but things were far from dismal.

I was engaged to one of the world’s most eligible bachelors.

My friends and family cared so much that they were fighting over who was going to plan my wedding.

I was popular enough that reporters stood outside my door just waiting to catch a glimpse of me, and okay, maybe that wasn’t all me, but still.

And, I potentially had a great career ahead of me.

I could feel it.

Everything was going to be okay. Great even.

I smiled as I headed off to my room to unpack and sleep for about a day straight.

CHAPTER 7

“I hope you’re wearing comfortable shoes!” Mattie said, more excited than his already excitable self.

“Oh God, what are you getting me into?”

“But you have to bring heels of some sort,” he said, ignoring me. “They have to be the same height as the ones you’re wearing for the wedding.”

“How am I supposed to know what shoes I’m wearing for the wedding if I haven’t even picked a dress yet?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes, already losing patience with me. “How is it that you are a female and yet you have no idea about this wedding stuff?”

“What?” I asked, only slightly offended since it was, after all, Mattie, and he was not discriminatory in his insults, although, being one of his best friends, I’d certainly received them a lot more than most.

He sighed heavily. “You decide on the heel height first, then pick the dress, then hope like hell you’ll find perfect shoes. Alternatively you can actually pick the shoes first and find a dress to match, but seriously, would you want to limit your choices like that?”

“Um… no?”

“Exactly,” he said, tugging me out of my apartment. “Now come on.”

He whooshed me halfway down the hall before I realized I hadn’t even locked the door.

“Mattie, good Lord. What has gotten into you?” I backtracked to make sure the apartment was secure.

“Sorry,” he said. “I thought Jen was probably home. And I’m just so excited.” He actually did a little clap-jump thing.

It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. At least when he was looking. When he stepped ahead of me, the eye roll was fair game.

“Okay, so we have four appointments scheduled so we have got to get a move on.” He raced ahead, flailing to get a cab.

“Four appointments? In one day?”

He turned to me, hand on his hip. “Of course in one day. How on Earth are you going to remember what your favorite dresses looked like on if it’s like a week later?” He gave me the ‘you are such a moron’ look that he’d honed so well, apparently just for me.

I sighed. It’s not like there was anything I could do. It was Mattie for Pete’s sake. And what Mattie wanted, Mattie usually got. Not that I minded. What Mattie wanted was usually what was best anyway. He did have some awesome taste.

We settled into the cab and Mattie pulled out a half-dozen dress magazines. “Okay, so I was thinking something like this,” he said, pointing to a gorgeous gown with fluffy, ragged tiers all down the skirt. This was not going to be a traditional dress kind of day, I could already tell. Which was totally fine with me. I kinda liked the idea of doing something edgy. I mean, I was marrying a movie star, plus price was no issue. If I couldn’t get away with fun and edgy, who could?

“Okay, stop. Stop!” Mattie yelled at the driver, whose patience, I could tell, was wearing a little thin.

The cabbie stared at me in the mirror as if to say, are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?

I gave him a sheepish grin, handed over some cash and sprinted to catch up to Mattie who was already rounding the corner up ahead, and if I didn’t get to him soon, he might just disappear into the crowd, never to be seen again.

Okay, it was Mattie, he’d make damned sure to be seen again, but still… he would not be my biggest fan if I lost him.

Finally he stepped into a store about a block away, and while I was still trying to figure out why on Earth he made the cabbie stop so soon, he turned to motion at me, almost violent in his enthusiasm.

“Are you trying to give me an ulcer? Can’t you walk any faster than that?”

“I had to pay the cabbie, you know. Thanks so much for waiting, by the way.”

His look softened a little. “Sorry, I’m just dying to see you in some of these,” he said, taking hold of my arm, and leading me up the stairs in an unmarked building.

“Um… Mattie? How do you even find these places?” I asked, thankful that the location wasn’t quite as sketchy as that first dress shop he took me to back in my bridesmaid days.

He looked at me sideways, as if he was wondering whether or not he could trust me. “A wedding planner never divulges his secrets,” he said, matter-of-factly.

I guess he’d decided I couldn’t be trusted.

“Just follow me. And try to keep up.”

I rolled my eyes again. My eyes really did get quite a workout when I was hanging out with Mattie.

Of course, his did too.

We walked down a long, brightly lit, and oddly enough, bejeweled hallway. Crystals hung from the high ceiling as if rain, or maybe even snow was about to fall on our heads. The light caught them in kind of a wintry wonderland of magic. At the end of the hall was a set of double doors painted all in white with pearls outlining the six panels on each door. The knobs appeared to be made of glass.

“And here… we… go!” Mattie said dramatically—even for him—and flung the doors open with a whoosh.

Three women, none more than a size two soaking wet, scrambled to accommodate us, two of them taking our coats off, so choreographed that I barely even realized what was happening until I saw Mattie’s coming off too, and the third already handing us champagne glasses.

Soothing music played in the background, almost like a spa but a little more new-agey, like it had come from some far away land, or perhaps even outer space. The lights were in constant motion, which made the room feel a bit like it was moving. I couldn’t help but wonder what their sales tactic was. Sensory overload? But as we moved through the first room and into more of a staging area where the brides-to-be were to show off the dresses, things were simplified a little. The music seemed ever-present, but at least there was carpet and the sound echoed less, actually giving the place a relaxed mood, which I assumed was the point.

“Your dresses are already waiting for you in the change rooms Miss,” a more-beautiful-than-a-model exotic looking woman said, bowing slightly.

“Change rooms?” I asked, wondering how many change rooms a person needed.

“I’ve requested that each of the dresses I’ve chosen for you be in a separate change room so that you don’t have any preconceived notions of what else is available as you try each on.”

I made a face that clearly stated I thought he might be on some sort of hallucinogenic medication, but he just waved me off in the direction where the lady had disappeared.

I followed along, marveling at how quickly Mattie had acclimated to the whole money-is-no-object lifestyle and wondered if I’d ever be able to do the same. Here I was, worrying about where the next few month’s rent was going to come from and Mattie was already completely comfortable with the crème de la crème of wedding designs.

The first change room was less of a change room than it was a giant, luxury living space. There was an entire seating area complete with a velvet couch and heavily patterned side chairs circling a glass coffee table. I got the distinct impression that they may have decorated the entire room just to match the dress. Which, had to be completely ridiculous, didn’t it?