Wedding Bells and Wall Street Bros

by Alina Jacobs

  “No, thanks.”

  “Nonsense!” my grandfather exclaimed. “I’ll have Ida set something up for us.”

  My father gave me an apologetic shrug as I set my empty glass on the counter and left to go check on Beowulf.

  My family’s obsession with my dating life was aggravating.

  Except I am, I thought. Or I guess I am. I was doing whatever that too-short evening with Brea had been. I couldn’t figure her out. Brea had acted strange during the date. I had tried to put my best foot forward, but she had just acted…well, I supposed she acted like herself. She had always dressed eccentrically, and I knew she liked sugar. Maybe she toned down her real personality for work hours and had let her true colors shine with me.

  “You’re so used to women trying to be something that they’re not to impress you and get into your bed and wallet that when someone acts authentic, you can’t handle it,” I chastised myself. “You’re just as bad as Granddad.”

  What I did know was that, for the first time since Rhonda had blown up my world, literally, I actually wanted to commit to a relationship. I wanted to commit to Brea.

  The question was, did Brea want to commit to me? Or had I been too much of a dick at the start for her to forgive me?

  23

  Brea

  I had pushed Memphis Eve’s upcoming surprise visit of doom until after the flower picking. After navigating that land mine of a text message with my twin, I had puked up a green-and-brown edible terrarium then promptly eaten an entire bag of Goldfish crackers. It wasn’t as satisfying as Mark’s meal.

  Or Mark.

  “Gah, brain, we are not thinking about that kiss,” I muttered.

  That night, I tried to sleep, but Mark had left me too hot and bothered, so instead I turned on all the lamps in my room, flooded it with light, and worked on Liz’s wedding gown. When my alarm finally went off, I had the skirt done and lined and was halfway through the lace edging. I yawned and stretched.

  Brea: Ready to head to Harrogate?

  Amy: I’m already here! I stayed over at my granddad’s! He’s really excited to have Liz see the flowers.

  Ivy: Evan and I went yesterday because he wanted to look at the Vanity Rag offices out there.

  Ivy: Are you ok on the train?

  Thunder boomed outside. Rain pattered against the glass.

  “Why does my life suck?” I complained as I packed away my sewing supplies.

  Brea: Hey, do you think I could grab a ride with you guys? All my friends have ditched me smh.

  Liz: Wes and I already left, but I’ll have Mark grab you!

  Brea: No! I can take the train!

  Liz: He’s on his way. You’re welcome.

  Brea: Tell him not to come!

  Liz: She likes a man with staying power. Noted!

  Brea: I’m already at the train station, so tell him not to bother.

  Lies, all of it. I hastily dressed, pulling on the first things I could grab. My father wrapped a large poncho around me as I raced through the apartment.

  “I found it at a thrift shop.”

  “It smells like sheep.”

  My dad peered at me. “How would you know? You’ve never even seen a sheep!”

  The first raindrops were starting to fall as I careened out the front door of the building. My plan was to book it to the train station as fast as possible. Pulling down my hood, I ran across the street then screamed when a car stopped an inch from me. The driver’s-side door swung open, and Mark jumped out.

  “Brea, what the fuck!”

  “You’re not supposed to be here!” I yelled. “And why is your car so quiet?”

  “It’s electric.”

  “This is not the same car you had yesterday,” I complained.

  “I took my sports car to impress you,” Mark retorted.

  That shut me up, but only for a moment. “I was going to take the train,” I said pathetically.

  Mark frowned. “It’s raining. Get in the car. We can’t be late.”

  I made a face but sat in the passenger’s seat. The rainwater had made the poncho smell even worse. Mark sniffed as he got back into the car. I steamed in silence under the smelly poncho for the next few blocks until Mark abruptly parked the car. He turned to look at me.

  “Brea,” he said and reached over to me. His blue eyes were intense. He tugged lightly at the poncho. I licked my lips.

  “There are a lot of people watching,” I croaked.

  Mark looked confused. “Your poncho smells like death,” he said, tugging it over my head. I let him pull it off, then he ran to throw it in a nearby street trash can. He kissed me when he got back into the car, but I crossed my arms.

  “That was a perfectly good poncho.”

  Mark barked out a laugh as he pulled back into traffic. “I thought maybe you had turned into Cruella de Vil and were skinning wet dogs to wear.”

  “I would never!”

  A small bark sounded from the back seat.

  “You brought my baby!” I exclaimed, reaching back to pet Beowulf.

  “He’s mine now,” Mark said with a smirk.

  “Oooh, he’s getting really possessive!” I made a tiger-growl sound. “Papa bear! I like it!”

  It had stopped raining by the time we drove into Harrogate.

  “Pull over,” I told Mark, pointing to Ida’s General Store. “I need a snack before I can put on my bridesmaid hat.”

  Mark looked up at the sign as we stepped out of the car. He had Beowulf in his arms.

  “This place has awesome local snacks,” I said, “and they sell sandwiches.”

  “You don’t want ice cream?” Mark said, a hint of a smile around his mouth.

  “Ha ha,” I said as he followed me into the store.

  You’re acting like you’re his, well, not girlfriend and not hookup…maybe friend who is a girl? You cannot! We are simply buying time to run Memphis Eve out of New York.

  I picked out a hot breakfast sandwich from the warmer then snagged a coffee and took it up to the cash register. Mark took out his credit card.

  “You don’t have to,” I said, feeling self-conscious.

  “I threw away your poncho. I think it was worth at least as much as a breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee.”

  I unwrapped my breakfast biscuit to give my hands something to do.

  “Hey there, hot stuff!” a woman with a shock of white hair and bright-yellow lipstick exclaimed as she tapped at the register. She winked at Mark, who froze. “You were supposed to come on a double date with me, Harris, and Dottie, but I see you have it covered. I’ll have to tell Dottie to take a hike.”

  “I suppose you must be Ida,” Mark said faintly.

  “One and only! Hey,” she said to me, “how did you like all the penis enhancements I sent over for him? Did you notice a difference? Though a man like that seems like he’d be a stud already. I have some vaginal stretchers if you’d like to peruse them.”

  I was quietly choking on my breakfast sandwich and took a swallow of the coffee.

  Mark patted me on the back. “She’s my grandfather’s new girlfriend,” Mark said grimly.

  “He said I was life changing,” Ida bragged to me as she swiped Mark’s card. “He said he’d always been with younger women, but none of them could keep up with him. But me, I do yoga and I work out and I take supplements. When I was done with him, I thought I was going to have to take him to the hospital. You two have a great day in Harrogate!”

  We sat in stunned silence as we made our way through what amounted to rush-hour traffic in the small, quaint town.

  “We are not going on a double date with my grandfather and that woman,” Mark said after a moment.

  “I don’t know. It could be quite an experience.”

  “Do you have another crazy outfit you can wear?” he asked, “Because I think you’ll need to wear something loud to keep up.”

  Amy was standing at the entrance to the renovated barn when we walked up from the parking lot
on her grandfather’s farm.

  “I have the sample arrangements all laid out,” she said happily.

  Liz was already inside polishing off a breakfast biscuit. “These are amazing,” she said around the sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit. “I might have to move to Harrogate just so I can eat this every day.”

  “I put in a bulk order to be delivered to our condo,” Wes assured her.

  “That’s why I love you!” she said, leaning up to kiss him.

  “These flowers look amazing,” I told Amy.

  She had a sample arrangement on display. The bouquet was colorful, but the flowers were still all in the same color palette. The yellows, blues, pinks, and oranges were all more muted shades, surrounded by trailing honeysuckle and greenery. It looked as if someone had just casually and elegantly fashioned a bouquet from the world’s fanciest garden.

  “It looks so pillowy soft,” Liz gushed. “I just want to press my face into the flowers.”

  “It also smells amazing,” I said, inhaling the sweet smell of the honeysuckle.

  “I know you wanted something a little different for the centerpieces,” Amy said in excitement, “so I added some berries. Let me know if it’s too much.”

  The centerpieces had the same muted but colorful flowers, but they were interspersed with blackberry vines baring lush berries and muscadine grapes trailing out of a copper pot.

  “These are gorgeous,” Liz breathed.

  “They’ll go great with your dress too,” I told her.

  “I’m playing up the whole earth mother/goddess theme,” Amy said, “since you have a bun in the oven.”

  “I think you should also have little pots of honey out,” Ivy added, gesturing.

  The table runner was a lush row of greenery. Interspersed in it, Ivy had laid out the honey, jams, and other little edible things in glass jars that guests could take home with them or use during the dinner or the snacks Elsie would be serving during the dancing to help soak up the alcohol.

  As Amy directed us to look at the flowers for the ceremony backdrop, the barn door flew open. A tall, blond-haired man with barely contained irritation on his face was chasing a short, plump woman, who strode across the barn toward Amy’s grandfather.

  “Deputy Mayor Loring!” Ernest greeted her.

  “Oh shit,” Mark said.

  He eyed Mark and spat, “Holbrooks.”

  Wes rolled his eyes. “Hey, Hunter.” He waved at the blond man.

  “Why are they here?” Hunter demanded.

  “They have as much right to be here as you do,” Meg snapped at him.

  “They stole my company!”

  “As I’ve heard, in excruciating detail,” Meg said. “Funnily enough, it seems like you still did all right for yourself, considering that you’ve been bribing people to support your efforts in propping up the Founders’ Firelight Festival.”

  “It’s tradition!” Hunter insisted.

  “It’s violent. Someone almost got set on fire last year.”

  “Things happen.” Hunter shrugged. “It was the War of 1812. But it was worth it. Harrogate won the battle.”

  “Harrogate didn’t do anything. People stood outside in the heat, someone passed out from drinking too much, and no one in the town realized the actual war was over and done with until three weeks after the fact,” Meg said flatly.

  “See, tradition.”

  “I think the Founders’ Firelight Festival is a great event,” Ernest said, shoving his hands under his overall straps.

  “How much did he pay you?” Meg demanded.

  Ernest shuffled his feet. “It wasn’t a bribe, Deputy Mayor. He prepaid for two hundred pumpkins for Halloween next year.”

  “Who needs two hundred pumpkins?” Meg asked Hunter.

  Hunter acted shocked. “The Svenssons are active members of this esteemed community, and we are hosting our annual Halloween party in October. One needs pumpkins for Halloween, Meg.”

  “I cannot believe this!” she shouted.

  I grinned at their antics. They acted very much like a couple in love.

  I handed Meg my card. “When your boyfriend pops the question, you should have Weddings in the City plan your wedding. I love all the small-town charm here.”

  Meg looked at my card in dismay. Hunter reached out and took it as Amy face-palmed.

  “That sounds like an excellent idea, Meg.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Meg said to me.

  “Could have fooled me,” I muttered as they left.

  After Liz had signed off on the flower arrangement, Mark let Beowulf sniff around in the garden patch while I went out to inspect the handcrafted wooden chests on display. I was oscillating between a large tote bag for the reception gifts or a crate when I saw a picnic hamper, one of the old-style wicker ones. I opened it and saw that it had spots for utensils, plates, and bottles of wine.

  “Oh, this would be perfect!”

  “Really?” a man said next to me.

  I whirled around.

  Tall, blond, gray-eyed, he was devilishly handsome. “Because you’re perfect.”

  “Ignore him,” another nearly identical blond man instructed, pushing his brother aside. “He’s uncultured, a bumkin if you will. If you like that hamper, I will buy it for you. A gift,” he said, gesturing magnanimously.

  “I’m just looking for a container for wedding reception gifts instead of a bag,” I said, taking my phone out to snap some pictures of the artist’s label to contact them later. “But thank you.”

  One of the men took my phone out of my hand. I glared at him, but he grinned at me and snapped a few pictures of himself. Then he handed me his business card with a flourish. It read WILDER SVENSSON.

  “So you have something to remember me by.” Wilder winked.

  “Why don’t you give me the phone, and you can keep the card,” I said, taking my phone and trying to hand the card back.

  “Get away from her!” Mark roared from across the yard, storming over.

  Beowulf galloped behind him, stumbling. He was trying to be ferocious, but when he tripped over a rock and tumbled, he was just too adorable.

  Mark, on the other hand, was furious. I was suddenly very aware that he used to be in the military.

  The two Svensson brothers rounded on him.

  “I saw her first,” one of them insisted.

  “No, I saw her first,” Wilder said, shoving his brother.

  “Brea is mine,” Mark snarled.

  “Well, technically you can’t own a person,” I said meekly, but Mark put himself between me and the Svensson brothers possessively.

  “Leave. Now.”

  The Svensson brothers scowled.

  “Hey!” Hunter barked, coming up the drive. “We’re leaving. Come on, or you can walk.”

  Wilder flashed a grin at me and mouthed Call me while his brother locked him in a headlock.

  Beowulf barked after the Svenssons as they walked away, all four paws leaving the ground with every yip.

  “They’re uncivilized,” Mark said, frowning.

  “They’re cute,” I joked.

  “Have a thing for blonds?” Mark’s voice was dangerously calm.

  “Tall, dark, and handsome is more my type. I’m a traditionalist,” I quipped.

  “The Svenssons are bad news,” Mark told me. “They represented my Uncle Walter’s ex-wife in her divorce. Then three of my cousins mysteriously ended up dead in a house fire.”

  “Surely they didn’t cause it!” I said, aghast.

  “No, Danielle did, but they represented her legally, and that’s enough to have a black mark in my book. I don’t forgive and forget. You wrong me or my family, even tangentially, even the slightest bit, and you’re my enemy for life.”

  Gulp. Now I felt really terrible about manipulating him.

  It’s for his own good. It’s not like you need to have Mark in your corner after all of this is over. You just have to keep him occupied long enough to get rid of Memphis Eve
.

  24

  Brea

  The darkness in Mark’s eyes faded.

  “But obviously that doesn’t concern you,” he said. He gestured to the hamper. “Would you like me to buy that?”

  “Why does everyone want to buy me stuff?” I huffed.

  Mark raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted that for the gift baskets. You should buy that as a sample, don’t you think?”

  “Oh. Yes. That makes sense.”

  Mark picked up the hamper. It had a nice leather strap for easy carrying. I noted that we could stamp it with Liz and Wes’s wedding logo. I played with Beowulf while Mark paid for it.

  Brea: Emergency! Emergency!

  Brea: We have to solve the evil twin problem RIGHT NOW!

  Brea: I think Mark is falling for me.

  Ivy: Yeah, he seemed super besotted with you.

  Amy: Definitely bewitched and bebothered.

  Brea: I need answers not The History Boys quotes though that is a great song.

  Grace: Let’s put out a pile of things Instagrammers like, such as free shoes, plastic surgery coupons, and Photoshop software. Then when she goes to grab it, we can drop a net on her.

  Sophie: You need to try the carrot approach. Find someone else she can latch onto and voilà! She leaves Mark alone.

  Elsie: Brea doesn’t know any other good-looking billionaires who would be dumb enough to hitch their dick to Memphis Eve.

  Grace: We have a ton of rich clients. Dump her on one of those guys.

  Sophie: Does Evan have any brothers, Ivy?

  Ivy: No way is something called a Memphis Eve going to be my future sister-in-law.

  Amy: Could we just invent a dumb guy?

  I looked down at the card in my hand.

  Brea: Actually, I think I may have just the man. But I’ll need your help to make it go smoothly.

  I hastily slipped the business card into my pocket as Mark loped back out, the picnic basket slung over his shoulder. He scooped up Beowulf and kissed the top of the puppy’s head. Fireworks exploded in my womb.