By the end, twenty tables were draped in expensive cream cloth with autumnal table runners. When they were done, Eva busted out her ruler, insisting her assistants check and double check that the runners weren’t off center. “It isn’t enough to eyeball it. If the runner isn’t placed just so, the centerpieces aren’t going to look right.”
Erica had shot Taylor a can you believe her look , but Taylor only smiled in response. There was something hot about Eva when she got down to business, her typically soft demeanor turned abrupt and no-nonsense.
Next came the table numbers and centerpieces. Small tea lights alternated with thick pillar candles, and space was left for where the fresh cut flowers would go the next morning. Once silk covers were slipped over all of the chairs—a more difficult act than it seemed it would be—it was time to move on to other areas.
Toasting glasses, the cake knife, and other odds and ends found their designated spaces. In the corner opposite the dance floor, they carefully stacked up a mountain of favors for the guests to leave with at the end of the night. A table was set up where gifts could be dropped off and a stand was set out in the front foyer where loved ones could sign the guest book. Taylor took extra care setting out the guest book she’d seen Eva pour love and hours of her life into making. It meant something to her that Eva was the kind of woman who would go above and beyond to do something meaningful for her client. It showed the kind of woman that she was.
While Taylor finished the last of her assigned duties for the night, she listened to one side of the conversation Eva was having with Amanda on the phone, going through an itemized list of things she wanted to make sure the bride had done. “Have you prepared your tip envelopes for the caterer and photographer? Good. And you tried on your dress to make sure those final alterations were just right?”
After a thorough ten minutes of interrogation, Eva put down her clipboard and smiled into her phone. In seconds, she transformed from business owner back to a friend, and was squealing excitedly into the phone with her client as though she were a bridesmaid instead of talent for hire.
It was hard for Taylor not to be jealous. Not of the attention or care that her partner had for Amanda, but that she didn’t have any friendships like that in her own life. It had been years since she’d had that kind of easy companionship with a friend. What she had with Eva was incredible, intoxicating even, but she wished she had someone she could talk about her newfound romance with.
“Girl, I can’t wait to see you in that dress!” Eva gushed into the phone. “I also can’t wait for you to see how absolutely stunning this reception is going to look.” Eva looked over at Taylor and winked. “I’ve got some incredible helpers making sure the reality is up to par with all our dreams.”
When Eva got off the phone, she pulled Taylor and Erica together into a huddle so that they would all fit in a selfie. “Bride’s orders. She wants to know who to thank for making the magic happen!”
After serious and silly photos had been taken and approved by everyone involved, Eva squeezed Taylor’s arm.
“Tomorrow, when you see Amanda’s expression when she walks into this room? That’s when you’ll know why it’s worth it for everything to be so precise.”
13
Eva
At the Italian restaurant, not a single drop of prosecco was left in Taylor’s glass or a single smear of pesto left on her plate. At times, she’d close her eyes as though that somehow enhanced her ability to taste, not wanting to be distracted from the texture of the feta from her salad or the way the charred cherry tomatoes from her linguini burst in her mouth.
Eva enjoyed watching Taylor eat because of the way she savored things. The look of rapture on Taylor’s face when she took her first bite of cannoli made Eva think she might be getting insight into what Taylor would look like during an orgasm.
She just hoped she would be lucky enough to find out. There were two problems standing in her way, being her lack of experience pleasuring anyone but herself and the lack of her good hand.
That look of delight, though, was good motivation for figuring it out.
“You always look like you’re ravenous when you eat,” Eva said, licking the last bit of whipped cream off her fork.
“Thinking about what I’m going to do to you later tonight has made me work up an appetite,” Taylor answered, her almond eyes glittering mischievously across the table.
“I just have one more favor before we get to all of that.”
Taylor raised her eyebrows.
“I need help getting clean again before we get dirty.”
Taylor cocked her head to the side, waiting for an explanation.
“You have no idea how hard it is to scrub all of the hair products I use on a daily basis out of my hair with only one hand.”
Taylor erupted into a belly laugh and made a show of running her fingers through her hair before flipping it dramatically as though some kind of soap opera actress. “All the more reason to go au natural.”
14
Taylor
Eva’s linen closet looked like a rack at Ulta or Sephora. She had every scent of bath bomb, bubble bath, dry oil, and Epsom salt imaginable. The collection reminded Taylor of the rich women’s homes she used to clean, how she’d wipe down their vanities and try not to covet the high-end makeup and perfume she’d never be able to afford. Luckily for her, she’d discovered YouTube tutorials for how to maximize the effect of dollar store cosmetics. She’d mastered the art of the smoky eye with cheap shadow, but there was no way to transform knock off perfume to smell like Burberry or Dior. The chemical alcohol smell always remained.
She breathed in deeply, going from honey to lavender to Sicilian lemon.
Taylor had been instructed to select something to be used in the bathtub while Eva ran the water in the next room. She grabbed a vial of rose scented bubbles and for good measure, the lotion sitting beside it with the matching scent.
When she rounded the corner to the bathroom, she found Eva lighting white pillar candles in glass hurricane jars on her bathroom countertop and humming along to the sound of soft jazz coming from her phone, nestled between a tiny set of portable speakers.
Taylor opened the vial and tipped a steady stream of soak under the running water and watched them transform into a mountain of bubbles before turning off the tap.
“Thanks for helping me,” Eva said, crossing the short distance between them to turn her face up to Taylor for a kiss.
When it ended, she kicked off her peep toe heels and began to undress. First, she slowly undid each of the buttons on her sleeveless silk shirt, letting it hang open so that Taylor could get a view of the lingerie beneath it—a red lace bra with scalloped details at the top of each cup. Then she reached behind her and unzipped the pencil skirt, letting it fall to the floor.
Below it was red boy shorts that matched her bra. As good as her ass had looked while her skirt had been hugging it earlier in the night, it looked even better when she was nearly naked.
She never once broke eye contact with Taylor as she peeled her clothing away. It was clear she wasn’t shy about her body.
Taylor sucked in her breath in anticipation. She wanted to see what else was hiding underneath what little there was of the remaining fabric.
“You do the rest,” Eva said, stepping toward her, then turning around so that Taylor could slip the shirt over Eva’s shoulders and access her bra clasp.
Once the shirt was on the floor, Taylor couldn’t help herself. She swept the hair off the back of Eva’s neck and moved to kiss her, bringing her arms around to Eva’s front so that she could caress the soft, taut skin she found there.
Eva shook her head. “Tsk, tsk,” she said. “I told you we were going to get clean before we get dirty. You still have to work for it.”
Taylor was already wet and no one had even gotten into the water yet.
“Then you better get that sweet ass of yours into the tub,” Taylor said, biting her lip in anticipation.
<
br /> 15
Taylor
When they rose the next morning, even the shrill 8:00 AM alarm couldn’t dissuade Taylor from smiling. On Saturdays, she typically slept until at least ten. It was the one morning a week she had to herself, given that Sundays were typically allotted for homework and studying.
“Five more minutes,” she mumbled, nuzzling into Eva.
“Not a chance,” Eva said as she started to get up out of the bed. Taylor tightened her embrace to hold Eva in place.
“What if I tell you that cuddling you is even better than cozying up to the cool side of the pillow?”
“I’d say you’re in luck because I specifically have us scheduled to wake up an hour ahead of when we need to so that we can have time to do things you might enjoy even more than cuddling,” Eva responded.
That was all the encouragement Taylor needed.
After their tangle, the morning was a blur. Taylor was on what Eva had deemed “beauty duty”, using Eva’s curling iron to style her hair into ringlets and administer makeup like mascara and liquid eyeliner that Eva struggled to apply herself without the use of her right hand. Taylor styled herself while Eva ordered them breakfast over the phone from a bagelry down the street that provided delivery service. Taylor couldn’t fathom paying more for delivery than for the bagel itself when the shop was in easy walking distance, but Eva insisted the convenience on what was sure to be a stressful day was worth it.
“I could get used to getting spoiled this way,” Taylor said, chasing her last bite of lox and cream cheese with gourmet coffee so good on its own she didn’t even need the creamer.
“Then stick with me, kid,” Eva said, leaning across the table to touch Eva’s face. “I’ll give you the best this world has to offer. Starting with a cashmere sweater you can borrow to wear to the wedding. Would you prefer pink or mauve?”
To Taylor, they might as well have been the same color. The fabric was whisper-soft like the brush of Eva’s lips against her skin. Taylor only hoped that by the end of the day, she wouldn’t have found a way to ruin it.
By noon, they were at the chapel. The wedding wasn’t until six PM, but Eva insisted they needed the full chunk of time they allotted to get things ready.
First, they met the florist and had accepted the flowers that would decorate the stairs leading up to the altar at the chapel and the tables inside the reception area. Then, they met the baker that had provided the wedding cake and helped show the caterers to the prep and warming kitchen where they would put the finishing touches on the plated dinner that would follow the ceremony.
Just when it seemed like there might be a moment they could sit and take a break from the flurry of activity, the bridal party arrived so that Amanda and her bridesmaids could all have their hair and makeup done in the dressing parlor. When one of the bridesmaids realized she’d forgotten her pearl accessories, Taylor was sent out with a fifty dollar bill to procure cheap knockoffs from Walmart down the street so that the woman would match everyone else in the wedding photos.
She was glad to do it. It got her away from all of the excitement and allowed Eva to enjoy a spare moment with her friend, oohing and aahing at the pictures the photographer was taking of Amanda as she was transformed from a funky leopard print beauty to an enchanting picture of elegance in what seemed like miles of lace.
When she returned with the matching necklace and earring set, Amanda threw her arms around Taylor in gratitude as if they too were old friends. “Thanks for saving the day. And thanks for being so good to my girl.”
After another tight squeeze from Amanda, Eva pulled Taylor away so that they could head outside to start directing people to the parking area. Any minute now, guests would start to arrive.
“Looks like I’ve secured approval from one of the first people in your circle,” Taylor said, flashing a grin.
“Everyone is going to love you.”
Taylor had her doubts about that given her background, but there was no reason to dampen the mood by mentioning it.
* * *
The evening was a whirlwind. If it felt that way for Taylor and she was barely involved, just on the fringes of things, she couldn’t fathom what it might be like to be the bride. Especially given the corset, head full of bobby pins, and stilettos she had to endure.
Taylor made a mental note to herself that if she were ever to marry, it would be in flowy and forgiving fabrics that wouldn’t suffocate her and comfortable flats.
After the ceremony ended, Taylor was in charge of ushering all of the guests to the reception hall so that Eva could work with the wedding party and photographer to get all of their desired photos in before it was time for the bride and groom to make their grand entrance.
On the short path between the two buildings, a smiling older woman approached her. “Honey, do I know you from somewhere?”
Taylor didn’t recognize her. “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said.
The woman squinted, taking in Taylor’s face. “Well, you look nice enough to help an old gal like me to get next door,” she said, taking Taylor’s arm. She lowered her voice and leaned into Taylor. “Usually my husband lets me lean on him when I have to walk a ways, but he’s playing hooky at the house so he can watch football.”
Taylor grinned. “Sounds to me like that means more cake for you.”
A voice came up from behind them. “Still too vain to use your walker, Betsy?”
“Shush,” Betsy said, shooing the woman off with her free hand.
The woman ignored Betsy and turned her attention to Taylor. “You look awfully familiar to me, too. How do you know the happy couple?”
“I don’t,” Taylor said, stopping to prop open the door so the crowd could enter. “I’m working the event today.”
“You don’t have a nametag.”
Taylor squirmed. This was starting to feel more like an interrogation than a friendly conversation. “Well, if you should need anything, I’m Taylor.”
Betsy seemed to feel Taylor’s tension and gave her arm a friendly squeeze. “If you could escort me to my table so I can get off my feet, you’ll have rave reviews from me.”
Together, they scoped out the seating assignments and headed in the right direction.
“I’m glad she’s not at my table,” Betsy whispered, conspiratorial again. “Joan is a meddling fuddy-duddy. Don’t pay her any mind.”
Taylor winked. “If I need to escape her, I might come to steal your husband’s empty seat.”
16
Eva
It seemed all night as though people had gotten their signals crossed about who to direct any complaints or demands to—it was as though they thought Taylor was in charge. While Eva preferred that it be clear she was the one in control, she was grateful for Taylor’s competence and knack for customer service.
The demands seemed incessant. The music from the DJ was too soft or too loud. The room wasn’t the right temperature. The mints looked like they needed to be replenished (they didn’t) or it seemed like things were running behind schedule for the sparkler sendoff (they weren’t).
Taylor smiled and nodded, made Eva aware of a situation before taking action as to not step on any toes, and then launched into whatever needed to be done.
At one point, a woman with a pinched face reported that a spill needed to be cleaned up. Eva had seen the champagne flute tumble to the floor to shatter and was almost positive it had been intentional. What she couldn’t figure out was if the woman’s clear displeasure with the wedding was directed at the couple or directed at Taylor and Eva somehow. Taylor had made sure the area was left dry and spotless, no remaining evidence of champagne or glimmers of broken glass. The whole time she was cleaning, she retained her professionalism and a smile, waving off Eva’s help so that she could attend to whatever else might need to be done.
Eva remembered how loudly and frequently Amanda had bemoaned her family members mostly being pains in the ass. At the time, it had seemed exaggerated. Eva was start
ing to realize she’d been wrong.
“You’re accruing so many girlfriend brownie points so quickly that there’s no way I’m going to find the perfect way to reward them all,” Eva told Taylor, squeezing her hand after dimming the lights in the room to let the crowd know they were nearing the end of the night and cueing the DJ to launch into a few last slow songs.
She wished they weren’t working so that the two of them could dance. That night in the community center, they’d been off rhythm and a little awkward, but Eva had fit perfectly in Taylor’s arms. Now that they knew one another better, were more comfortable, something told her they’d glide like they were on air, able to intuit how the other person would move and where they’d next step.
An older couple with crowns of white hair swayed back and forth to “Unchained Melody”, the woman’s eyes closed gently as she leaned into a gentleman Eva presumed to be her husband. “Weddings celebrate new love, but with divorce rates being what they are, I always feel like it’s the couples like that we should be throwing huge events for,” Eva said, nodding in the direction pf the old timers. What she wanted to say was, and if we’re lucky, one day that could be us. It was way too soon to utter things like that out loud if she didn’t want to scare Taylor away. Regardless, she knew what she felt. Just like her father had known what he felt as soon as he met Eva’s mom.
Amanda’s mother, gorgeous in an over-the-top gown and slightly sloshed on celebratory wine, interrupted the women’s conversation before Eva could say something sappy that she’d be embarrassed about later.
“Could you two be dears and load my car with their wedding presents before it’s time to hand out the sparklers for the send-off?”
“Of course!”
“I’m in the blue Lexus out front,” she said, handing Eva her keys. “My husband pulled the car up to the curb so that it would be closer to the entrance.”
Forgetting Chuck Taylor Page 7
