The NYCE Girls!

by Raquel Belle

  “I can only second what my beautiful wife here has said. Thank you all so much for coming. Now that the cake is cut, the formal festivities for the day are concluded. Laura and I will be saying our farewells to you all and grabbing our suitcases to jet off to our honeymoon in…” He pauses, looking around the room with a big grin. “Jamaica!” The last word is greeted with cheers.

  Jared goes on, “That said, we have rented the reception hall and DJ for the entire evening! So you all stay here and enjoy the food, music, and drinks. The bar will be open until midnight!” This last remark is greeted with more whoops from the groomsmen, who have clearly already had their fair share of champagne. I spot Thomas across the crowd, red-faced, the bowtie of his tuxedo is missing and his jacket is askew. As I’m looking across the room I also see Jason, staring at me intently. He raises one eyebrow ever so slightly and then turns and disappears, his broad back swallowed by the crowd. I know exactly where he’s heading.

  I take a last look at Laura and Jared, now chatting with one person after another as they say their goodbyes. There are over 200 people here, I’ll just go talk to Jason quickly and then come back and say goodbye. I have plenty of time. With that, I take a deep breath and make my way through the throng of people, heading past the toilets and towards the small room I told Jason about. A space where we can be alone—to talk.

  He’s already waiting when I arrive, his face looking oddly solemn. Unlike Thomas and the other groomsmen, he seems sober and is still perfectly put together. His tuxedo jacket and shirt don’t show a single wrinkle—even his bowtie is perfectly straight. Now that we’re alone, I let myself finally get a good look at him in his dark tux. James Bond can’t hold a candle to this guy, I think to myself appreciatively.

  “Cara.” He stretches a hand out and steps towards me eagerly, and I realize I’ve never seen him look so serious.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Come here.” He envelopes me for a moment in his arms and kisses the top of my head gently…sweetly. I look up and see him staring down at me. His eyes have something new in them, something soft and tender I can’t yet identify.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask again. For some reason his serious face is scaring me.

  “Yeah. Great. I’ve just been missing you.” He stoops down slightly to kiss me on the mouth, tightening his arms around me. I have to crane my neck all the way back to meet his mouth but the second our lips touch, I forget the discomfort of the position and give myself up to the pleasure of his lips on mine.

  “You just had me… last night…” I whisper the words between kisses. This is the logic that my brain is trying to convey to me. I shouldn’t be so hungry for him again already. And yet…I am. I feel his cock stirring slightly, pressing against the flimsy fabric of my lavender bridesmaids’ gown.

  He pulls back and places a hand on each of my bare shoulders, stepping back to look me square in the face as he says, “I know but watching you all day without being allowed to touch you has been torture.” He pauses and clears his throat, tightening his grip on my shoulders before going on, “And then, walking down the aisle with you…”

  His voice trails off as I inhale sharply. My heart is racing and my mind is going a mile a minute. What is he getting ready to say? He must be completely insane. But this isn’t insane. I mean, the way it all started is insane but the rest is normal enough, right? We are two thirty-something professionals, living in New York City, both single. Why can’t we just date like normal people when we’re back in the Big Apple?

  As if he’s reading my mind, he says, “I know it seems nuts but I feel like we’re beyond just basic dating. I mean, beyond ‘casual’ dating, you know? The thing is, there’s nobody else I’m seeing right now and there’s nobody I want to see. No one but you.”

  “Yeah.” I breathe out the word. There’s nobody waiting for me back in New York either. And the only guy I want to get to know more of is Jason. Is he about to ask me to be his girlfriend? The thought feels so high school in a way—but in the fast-paced world of New York—where “the norm” seems to be dating multiple people simultaneously and never settling down—that thought is significant.

  I open my mouth to say more but his lips are on mine again and now his hands are moving down my shoulders, to my waist, and I feel a spark of desire set off in my body. I run my hands through his hair and down to his broad shoulders, feeling their strength and remembering how easily he scooped me up into his arms the other night. I feel his hands start to hike up my bridesmaid dress, one hand grazing my thigh, and am already preparing to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist when…

  “WHAT THE FUCK?!” Laura’s voice brings me plummeting back to earth.

  I turn to see Laura and Jared standing at the door of the room. Laura’s face is pale, her mouth open and her eyes wide. She’s holding the bouquet of lilies she walked down the aisle with in one hand but seems to have completely forgotten about them, having let it drop to her side so that the lilies are now stem-up. One stray flower has already fallen out of the bundle and dropped to the floor. Jared looks less shocked but his mouth is drawn in a grim line and his eyes are flashing a warning over my shoulder at Jason, who is standing behind me.

  “Cara, what the hell is going on?!” Laura recovers her voice and takes a step towards us. She’s visibly shaking and the petals of the lilies in her hand are quivering with each step she takes towards me. I instinctively step back, away from her, as I read the rage written across her face.

  “We just…” My mind is racing. Should I come clean with the full story or just try and pass this off as a one-time incident?

  “It’s uh, see, me and Cara,” Jason picks up the thread as he steps forward to stand next to me. But then he stops and looks at me uncertainly. He’s clearly trying to figure out what to say and he knows that he has to let me decide how to play this. After all, I’ve been the one insisting on keeping this secret for weeks now while he wanted to be honest about it.

  “This is my fucking wedding day,” Laura goes on. Her voice sounds even and calm but I know my sister and I recognize the lethal tone. “You couldn’t just let me have this, could you? You have to run off with the best man for a make-out session?”

  “Seriously, man,” Jared speaks up, directing his voice at Jason. “Did you have to make a pass at Laura’s sister of all people?” He sounds disappointed but not surprised—a fact that sends an icy jolt through my heart. “I know you have your playboy reputation to live up to but you could’ve played nice for at least a few weeks around my wedding,” Jared goes on, his words cutting me to the core.

  Jason opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by a clatter as Thomas, his face red and the top three buttons of his shirt undone, stumbles into the room behind Laura and Jared. “Ah the best man and the maid of honor!” He gurgles out the words and lets out a small hiccup before going on. “At it again, huh?”

  Shit. I feel my body go cold. Trust Thomas to out us. Laura’s head snaps back to stare at Thomas.

  “Again?” She says the word with emphasis, staring at Thomas. She advances towards him, shaking the bouquet in her hand at him threateningly. “What do you mean, again?” She whirls to face me and Jason, and then turns towards Jared, her face a mixture of rage and confusion, as if she’s hoping he can provide an answer. Jared just shrugs helplessly.

  Thomas, confronted by her emotion, remains mute. But Laura is out for answers. And she’s not about to rest until she gets them. She takes another step towards Thomas, zeroing in on him as the holder of the answer. “What do you mean when you say again, Thomas?” She’s just inches away from him, looking up defiantly into his face as she talks. I can’t see the look on her face now, but it’s clearly enough to rattle Thomas out of his drunken daze—a look of fearful uncertainty passes across his face.

  “Whoa, whoa, hey, I’m not the one feeling up your sister,” he slurs out the words as he takes a step away from her, afraid, and puts his hands up defensively.

 
“What did you mean when you said again?” Laura takes a step towards him and Thomas steps back again, in genuine fear, almost falling over his own shoes as he does.

  Shut up, Thomas. Shut up! I’m almost hoping he’ll hear my thoughts telepathically, but it’s no use. Maybe if he was sober he’d have tried to cover for us but in his current state, his brain can only manage to blurt out the truth. The horrible truth. I feel my heart drop.

  “That cocktail party. The coatroom. They were at it then too.” Before he can say anything else, Laura has spun on her heel and is advancing towards me, her eyes bright with rage—and tears.

  “Fucking shit! Fuck, Cara! How long have you been hiding this?! This is why you’ve been acting weird all week, isn’t it?”

  “Laura, please,” I step towards her, my hands out, but it’s no use. Her cheeks are now pink with rage and her hair is in a wild mass around her face, the strands flying as she stomps her foot. I put my hands on her shoulders, hoping to calm her down with a touch, but she shoves me off of her. The motion sends a pang of hurt through my heart.

  “Don’t you dare touch me. I don’t want a hug. I want your honesty. So tell me, that’s who you were texting at my bachelorette party, isn’t it?!”

  I hold her gaze and nod slowly.

  “And now I know why he couldn’t stop staring at you at the bridal shop.” She spits the words in my face.

  “Yes,” I say quietly. There’s no point lying now. “But I didn’t want you to find out. I didn’t want to steal your thunder.”

  “We wanted to keep the focus on you,” Jason’s voice comes from behind me.

  “Right, so you thought it was a good idea to make out at our fucking wedding reception?!” She throws the bouquet of lilies at my chest as she says the words. The delicate flowers bounce off of me and onto the ground, where they crumple in a heap. I don’t say anything. I can’t. The action doesn’t hurt me physically but I’m shocked into silence by it nonetheless. The last time Laura threw something at me—or got in any way physical with me—she was seven years old. She threw a Barbie at me when I—a sullen teenager—wouldn’t let her into my room.

  “Hey, there’s no need to be throwing things around and getting physical here,” Jason’s voice comes firmly from behind me.

  “You shut up. You’ve done enough,” Laura snaps at him, her eyes blazing.

  “Come on, bro, what were you thinking?” Jared groans from the doorway. He advances towards Laura, who is still facing off with Jason, placing a hand on her shoulder to try and calm her. “Look babe, I mean, the wedding celebrations are over. Nobody has to know this happened. Nobody does know! And we have our honeymoon ahead. Maybe we should just take a breather and—”

  “No!” Laura whirls on him briefly before returning her attention to me. “No! She doesn’t get off the hook that easily this time. My entire life it’s been like this,” her voice breaks into a sob as the tears that have been threatening to break out finally spill down her cheeks. “You always do this, Cara! Ever since I’ve been a kid. Every one of my accomplishments”—she emphasizes the word sarcastically—“has meant nothing compared to yours.” She steps toward a small table where a cluster of glasses sits…champagne flutes the bridesmaids had been sipping on earlier as they freshened up their makeup and hair before heading onwards to the reception.

  Laura seizes a glass in one hand and my breath catches in my throat as she raises it above her head, the liquid inside spilling sloppily over the edges. “On the day of my middle school graduation, you had to go and get into Harvard. In the face of that, my graduation meant nothing,” she throws the glass against the wall in a rage, emphasizing the last word. “Then my high school prom was overshadowed by you getting some dumb fancy internship in New York. Again, my special day meant nothing.” She picks up another glass as she’s talking and throws it against the wall, overhand, with full force, to coincide with the last word—nothing. “Even my acceptance into college was no big deal after you’d gone to Columbia Law School. I run my own fucking interior design business and nobody even gives a shit because you run your own fucking law firm.” She goes on, reaching for another glass blindly as she keeps talking, tears streaming down her face. “It all means nothing,” she screeches, releasing the last glass in her hand against the wall, where it shatters into a tinkling mass. “Everything I do and am is nothing compared to you. Mom and Dad probably would have been fine with just having one daughter since you’re such a big star.” She ends her tirade in sobs, her shoulders shaking as she brings her hands to her face. Jared, looking as shocked as the rest of us, places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

  “Laura, please.” I step towards her, wanting to take away her raw hurt. Her words make my heart twinge in pain as I wonder, how long has she felt like this? I step forward, wanting to hug her, wanting to say sorry, wanting to cry. I didn’t realize just how deep her resentment and pain ran. The last thing I ever wanted in life was to make my little sister feel inadequate. And now I’m learning that this is basically what I’ve been doing, unintentionally, for years. “We met before I even knew who he was,” I tell her. “It was just a freakish coincidence. I didn’t know he was Jared’s brother until we met at brunch.”

  “So you had already fucked him by then?” Her voice is throaty with tears and she sniffles as she rubs her hand sloppily across her face, streaking mascara across her cheeks. “And you both just stood there and lied to all of our faces, pretending like you didn’t know each other?” She looks angrily between me and Jason, while I hear Jared quietly murmur “shit” from behind her.

  “Is that true, man?” Jared looks to his big brother, a confused expression on his face.

  “I mean, yeah… We had met the night… I mean, the day before,” Jason says, stumbling over the words. For once, he looks like he’s lost his cool. It’s the last straw.

  “Why did you even bother coming here?!” Laura hisses at me. “I hate you. All you do is steal the spotlight.” She’s no longer screeching and the volume of her voice has dropped to a near whisper. It’s like she’s exhausted her rage and only a terrible, calm anger is left. She gives me one last pissed off look and runs out of the room, the train of her wedding dress dragging along the dirty floor as she goes.

  Instinctively, I run after her, tripping on my shoe as I do.

  “Laura, wait!” I round the corner to see her already halfway down the hall, heading for the door. Annoyed at my clumsy footwear, I kick off my shoes and, leaving them on the floor, run after her, my bare feet pounding the hard tiles of the hallway. I catch up to her and manage to grab her arm, holding it firmly as she tugs away from me. “Laura, we have to talk about this. You don’t understand. I had no idea you felt like this.” I pull her towards me, wanting to make her understand me, wanting to take her into my arms, wanting to soothe away her hurt. “I didn’t know.” I conclude lamely.

  She jerks her arm out of my grasp and turns to face me briefly. “Of course you didn't know. You’re too focused on yourself and your own success to bother worrying about anybody else.” Her words are cruel but her eyes are soft and sad. “This was supposed to my day, Cara. My wedding day. I only get one.” She pauses as her voice chokes on tears. “And you just had to ruin it by hooking up with Jared’s billionaire brother.” As she’s speaking, Jared, having followed us into the hall, steps forward from behind me.

  “Come on, babe,” Jared has a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Let’s go. You shouldn’t be getting worked up like this. It’s not good for you.” He says the words firmly and gives her shoulder a squeeze as he’s talking. Laura turns her tear-stained face towards her new husband and they exchange a look, telegraphing some kind of secret message I can’t decipher. Whatever he conveys to her with his eyes, it works. She nods briefly, rubbing her face with one hand.

  “Okay,” she says. “Let’s go.” But before they leave she turns back to me once more. “I’m going to go enjoy my honeymoon with my new husband. I do not want to hear from you. Do not try to re
ach me.”

  “But Laura…” The thought of parting on these awful terms breaks my heart.

  “No.” She cuts me off firmly. “This is just so typical of you. So typical! I marry Jared and you just have to one-up me by screwing his billionaire, property mogul, construction tycoon, stepbrother. It’s just so you.”

  I start to follow her as she walks away but then stop, confused. My brain is stumbling over something she said—twice, so it can’t be a mistake. Billionaire? Property mogul? Construction tycoon? What the hell? I turn to Jason, who is looking at me with a startled expression.

  “Why did she just call you a billionaire?”

  “I mean, if you want to get technical, yeah, I guess I am.” He stops and clears his throat. “I mean, I told you I’d done well for myself in the construction business.” A sheepish grin creeps over his face as he says the words.

  My mind is reeling as I put all the pieces together. The nice car. The boat. All those random references to him being a mogul, like Thomas had said, or a bigwig, like my own Dad called him. Even my parents knew. Him being Nick’s client—Nick only has millionaires and billionaires for clients. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have not seen it? But then, I realize, he’s been hiding it, too…

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice is calm and even as I stare him down.

  “I just didn’t want money to be part of the motivation in dating me. I didn’t want that to be a reason. Or, I mean, I didn’t want it to be an issue.”

  “You think that’s who I am? A gold digger?” My voice raises. After the exchange with Laura, I’m already on edge—and this is the last thing I need.

  “I didn’t say that,” he puts his hands up in protest.

  “Well, lying about your net worth and then saying it’s because you didn’t want money to be a ‘motivation’ to date you sends a clear message. You’re the one who’s a fucking liar and then you have the balls to imply I’m just interested in a man’s money and insult me?”