Free for the Wedding

by Briggs, Laura

  “Wait,” he said. His fingers still clutched the handle to her suitcase, even as she tugged it towards her. “I…I can help you with this wedding thing,” he said. “You need someone to back you up. You said as much last night You're trying to build a new impression against the odds–”

  “I did?” She tried to play innocent, though she knew exactly what he meant. "All I said was –"

  “All that stuff about shaking a lifelong image takes work," he said. "The whole 'being the boring, reliable friend', 'putting aside your life for other people's', et cetera...” He listed them as if counting off items from a fact sheet.

  "You make me sound like a victim," protested Val. "It's not like that." She was choosing to come to this wedding– it had nothing to do with obligation. The personal reasons, her curiosity and longings, told her it was true.

  “But I could help you prove them wrong," he persisted. "The way you did with Hammond.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not the same," she answered.

  “Sure it is. You pretended to be a wealthy investor for my pitch, right? This is a wedding, so I could, I don’t know… be your date–”

  “No,” she interrupted, firmly. “That’s not necessary, believe me.”

  “Your friend then,” he offered. “Just a friend, a guy who knows all your adventurous qualities.” His smile was playful, almost infectious with these words. It was drawing her to a dangerous conclusion as the blush returned to her cheeks. She looked away from him.

  At this point, they were both pulling the suitcase, the wheels squeaking across the floor with the same frantic pace as their argument.

  “I’m not adventurous,” she said. She pushed open the door to the world outside the hotel.

  “Are you kidding?” He snorted derisively. “You shared a rental car with a total stranger. You pretended to be the CEO for an elite agency. And then you made a million dollar sale over breakfast.”

  Her heart pounded faster with each compliment, as if Riley was a motivational speaker encouraging her to rewrite the mistakes of the past. Who was to say that those impulsive acts couldn't lead her to wow old school friends with her success and be equal to Heather's charm and warmth?

  “Give me a chance,” he pleaded. He laid a hand on her arm, stopping her from moving forward. “You saved my job back there. I can’t just let this go. Let me be in your corner for this.”

  The idea of someone to encourage her, to be the sidekick to her newfound heroine status didn't repulse her. It began to grow on her, the longer she listened to Riley's voice.

  “You don’t mind giving up five days to help a total stranger?” she asked. “Plus, you’d have to get a hotel room at an expensive resort and hang out with people you don’t know. ” Compelling arguments against this in her mind.

  “I’m already off work the rest of the week–this is sort of my vacation," he admitted. "So unless I tag along with you, I’ll just be holed in my apartment with days old takeout.”

  The pleading had returned to his voice and his gaze, the same look which had begged her for help in the rental agency. Only now he was begging to help her. A very different proposition.

  She felt a twinge of embarrassment over his vacation admission –which was incredibly close to her own circumstances. If they parted now, they would probably never cross paths again. She would mail him the rest of the car rental payment as they went about their separate lives.

  “Friends then,” she said. “Just friends.”

  *****

  “…and even though any girl would feel lucky to be with you, I think for now we should just stay friends. Not forever, but until the time is right. We‘ll know, like the seasons know to change…”

  Fourteen year-old Val had frowned at that last line, her pencil hovering as if to strike it from the page. It wasn't quite right; and the loops were far more elegant than those of Heather’s slanted, child-like cursive.

  With a sigh, she had crumpled the paper and reached for a new sheet. Her mind phrasing and rephrasing the possibilities of how to express this to the only boy she ever loved.

  How did you tell someone the truth without actually telling them the truth? She had no idea how to put something that complicated into words.

  Present-day Val faced a similar dilemma, as she maneuvered the rental car onto the road for the Southern Dream Resort. A building unmistakable even from a distance, with its grand entrance columns and wrought iron balconies extending from the guest rooms.

  “This place is unreal.” Next to her, Riley was thumbing through the brochure. “Listen to this–‘our resort boasts a tennis court, spa, swimming pool, ballroom, and ornamental pond’. There’s even peacocks roaming the grounds,” he said.

  As if on cue, one of the fan-tailed birds appeared on the lawn, its elongated neck cocked for a better view of the approaching vehicle.

  Val drew a nervous breath, a tingle sweeping through her hands and face. Was she crazy to be doing this? To be putting her pride, and possibly her heart, in imminent danger. That note had been written years ago. Who was to say that Jason hadn't practically forgotten it by now, swept up by his love for Heather and their new love story?

  “I’ll get the bags,” Riley told her, as soon as the car was parked. She didn’t protest, her legs wobbling as she climbed from the driver’s seat. The lobby was visible through the glassed entryway, a familiar blonde head bobbing in conversation with someone at the desk.

  As if sensing her friend’s stare through the partition, Heather turned mid-conversation. Letting out a squeal of happiness as she eagerly waved her inside.

  “I knew you would come!” she said, wrapping her arms around Val in a hug that threatened to take away her already shallow breath.

  “Sorry, I’m late.” Val summoned a smile as she pulled away. “There was a sort of detour on the way here. A–a problem with the train schedule,” she explained.

  “Don’t be silly,” said Heather. "Your timing is perfect. In fact, two more of our classmates arrived this morning. Andrea Baker is one of them–you remember, from drama club?”

  “Drama club.” Val nodded, picturing a girl in auburn braids and a checkered blue dress. Only that was her classmate’s costume from the school’s version of The Wizard of Oz, and not her real appearance.

  Linking arms, Heather steered her towards the fountain display in the middle of the room. Not noticing her friend’s lack of luggage as she chattered on about when the rest of “the gang” would arrive for their week-long celebration.

  “Casey Burkharte is coming on Wednesday. Actually, it’s Casey Reins now. She married some guy with a law firm over in Maryland.”

  “Really?” said Val. She twisted around in search of Riley and her missing baggage. Her gaze falling instead on a figure who emerged from the lobby’s side entrance.

  Tall with golden hair and a bronzed skin tone. A muscular frame evident beneath his tennis sweater, one hand playfully swinging a racket in the air. The other clutched a tennis ball that looked as if it had taken a thorough beating.

  Jason.

  Her mouth struggled to form the word, her instinct to move towards him checked by a wave of nervous panic. As well as the impression that her friend grew tense next to her, the friendly chatter dying away at the sight of her would-be husband.

  “Playing games again?” There was a scolding edge beneath Heather’s teasing question as she greeted the groom. His arm sliding round her as he placed a quick peck on her cheek.

  Up close, he bore traces of the boy Val remembered from school days. The vivid blue eyes and crooked smile that used to melt her heart; the thin scar along his jaw from the time he flipped a bicycle on the school’s concrete steps.

  He seemed to have trouble placing any similar attributes in her own features. His blue eyes clouded momentarily before he recognized her. Whether that was good or bad, she hadn't decided; but feeling his eyes on her again seemed to shrink her back into her high-school self.

  “Valarie? Look at you–
I can’t believe it!”

  His strong arm gripped her in a quick hug, sending shivers down her spine. The smell of his cologne an overwhelming pine scent as it reached her nostrils.

  “How have you been?” he asked. “Heather promised you would be here, but I thought maybe you were too busy planning someone else’s big day. We’re not the only ones in love, after all.”

  This was accompanied by a poke to his fiancée’s elbow with the tennis racket.

  “Ouch.” Heather shoved him back, a giggle escaping her mouth. “He’s a hopeless romantic,” she complained, “so don’t listen to anything he says. I mean, you don't even plan weddings–”

  The reason for this sudden end to her apology soon became apparent as another person joined their reunion. Val felt an arm encircle her shoulders, a man squeezing her close.

  “So I got our rooms checked in. We’re both on the fourth floor, but your window has a view of the ornamental pond.”

  Riley seemed oblivious to the stares he was drawing from the bridal couple, as well as the recipient of this information. This close to him, she could smell his aftershave and see the faint nick in his jaw from shaving that morning.

  “They already took the bags up, by the way. I think I could really get used to this place.” He smiled casually, his gaze moving from her face to the couple standing by, watching them with interest.

  “Oh…good,” she muttered.

  What was he doing? This was awkward, his stance more possessive than that of a mere friend or colleague, the two identities she had worked up for him on the car ride there.

  “This must be Heather, right? And you’ve gotta be Jason.” Riley held out a hand–his free one– in their direction.

  “That’s right.” Heather accepted it, her pink-tinted nails contrasting with his skin tones. “We thought Val was here alone. She didn’t mention bringing anyone when we had coffee last month–”

  “It was kind of last-minute,” said Val, desperately wishing she had given this scheme more thought. Or simply not agreed to it at all. “This is Riley. He’s a sort of–”

  “–an executive for Delaware’s fastest-growing software company,” he supplied. Reaching to shake hands with both her friends as he added, “Otherwise known as Val’s boyfriend.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  If looks could kill, Riley would have been scorched to ashes and blown aside in the air-conditioned lobby.

  As it was, his supposed girlfriend sucked in a breath, panic seizing her vocal chords. No words emerged, only a slight gasping sound as she stared back at her friends’ equally surprised faces.

  “Good to meet you,” said Jason, pumping Riley’s hand. “Software executive. That sounds like a good match for Val. She was always the smartest of the three of us." He winked in her direction. “Miss Straight A’s in every subject, including math.”

  “Which you were dismal at,” she recalled, with swift clarity. Nostalgia overtook her long enough to form a smile over memories of the two of them in study hall; a bored Jason doodling cartoon spacemen on his Algebra homework.

  “Really? I got an award at math camp once,” said Riley. His announcement sounded like a little kid desperate to impress. "Maybe that's what drew us together. Common interests and all that. So if you need to know when two trains traveling at different speeds will converge in Denver, Colorado, just give us a call.”

  Us? It took all her power to prevent her indignation from rising to the surface. His joke received a loud laugh from the soon-to-be bride, whom, as Val knew, had never solved a word problem in her life and relied on her two friends to fill the gap.

  “At least your talent comes in handy,” Heather said. “I got stuck with a wannabe jock who doesn’t know when it’s time to come in from recess.” One hand pinching his tennis sweater as if offering proof of her predicament.

  Her fiancée assumed a sheepish expression that signaled he was used to hearing this complaint. “I keep telling her that a sports columnist has to live the experience. Watching from the sidelines or the sofa doesn’t cut it for me–I’ve gotta sink my feet in the mud.”

  This statement seemed momentarily strange for someone dressed in gleaming white, from his sweater to his athletic shoes.

  “I’m guessing you change your clothes for that event," said Riley.

  Everyone laughed but Val, her face burning with a mixture of shame and fury. How could she have trusted him? A chronic idiot who had put her in one strange jam after another since the moment she signed the rental car agreement in Delaware.

  “How about you Riley? Spend much time on the field?” Jason tossed his tennis ball in the air with a grin. Clearly expecting the wiry executive to give a negative in response.

  Val expected this too. Her frame shrinking in quiet horror as he replied, “Well, I’m–I'm more of a gym fanatic. You know, power crunches, weight lifting… ”

  “We better unpack,” Val blurted, easing away from the arm around her shoulders. “I mean, I’ve got some things to do before I get settled in. Lots of details to wrap up.”

  Like breaking up with my nonexistent, incredibly erratic boyfriend. Her eyes conveyed that he should follow her–although not for pleasant consequences–as she glanced at the figure beside her.

  “Sure,” said Riley, brightly. “We’ll, uh, see you guys later then.”

  “For dinner,” said the bride. Pulling her fiancée along behind her as she followed them to the elevator. “We’ve got these long table reserved in the dining room that seat like thirty people, since so many classmates are showing up early to help us celebrate.”

  Her smile seemed strained with this statement. Only the groom seemed genuinely pleased with the arrangement, his arm cradling Heather’s waist with a tender gesture.

  “See you tonight,” he told them in a voice that sounded preoccupied. Offering a faint farewell smile as the elevator doors slid shut, separating the two couples.

  Val swung to face her pretend boyfriend with what she hoped was a truly intimidating expression. “How could you?” she demanded. “We agreed on friends, remember? No mention of romance, no dating, no relationship except a nice one–”

  “I know, I know.” Riley punched the stop button, the elevator lurching to a halt between floors two and three. “But look–the moment I saw them, I knew they would never buy the whole “just friends” scenario. People in the early stages of love see romance everywhere they look.”

  “You make it sound like an illness.” She crossed her arms, releasing a long breath of frustration. “Besides, this is a terrible way of paying me back. You said you wanted to help. Not make things worse.”

  “I am helping,” he insisted. “Didn’t you see the looks on their faces? This whole relationship thing completely messed with their perception of you. A gorgeous, successful woman who–”

  “Enough,” she interrupted. Pressing the number four to resume their journey upwards. “All it did was make them wonder why I kept it a secret until right before their wedding.”

  “Being mysterious is good," he answered. "So is being attached. It makes you more viable if there’s already an interested party.”

  Viable? Interested party?

  This time it was Val who stalled the elevator. Her finger holding the button as she stared at him with disbelief. “I’m not a product for your company’s latest computer line,” she said.

  In her anger, tears burned the rims of her eyes. She wasn't sure if she was insulted or hurt– or for that matter, why Riley spoke of her in this way at all.

  "Why would I want to attract an interested party?" she asked. Staring at the carpet, as if afraid of what he might say.

  "Because I think you came here to prove to somebody specific that you're not just the sidekick," he answered.

  When she looked up at him, her face darkened unhappily. "It's not for the reasons you think," she said. Almost fiercely, despite her better nature.

  “Sorry,” he blushed. “I just figured from what you said that there's somebo
dy here who's more than a friend. But either way, the philosophy works the same.” His face softened as he apologized, a frustrated hand rumpling his hair.

  “Trust me–no one could dismiss you as boring or geeky this time," he said. "All you need is someone who’s willing to point out the qualities you don’t even recognize yourself. In a way that nobody can miss.”

  Reasonable, yet dangerous at the same time. She could see where having an admirer–albeit a fake one–could increase her chances of making a good impression. But she had come here to tell the truth, not create more romantic delusions.

  With a sigh, Val let go of the button, the hum of the elevator filling the background again.

  “All right,” she said, after a moment. “We pretend to be a couple, but not a serious one. If anyone asks, we’ve only been dating a few weeks.”

  "Right," he answered. "Keeping you a little available–but a little hard to get."

  This story would cover for them not knowing each other very well. As well as not hanging all over each other, the way most couples she knew were prone to do.

  He nodded, looking chastised, as she continued with her requirements. “No more outrageous stuff, and especially no lies about jobs or anything involving my own accomplishments. Got it?”

  “It’s a bargain,” he said. Extending his hand as if to seal a business arrangement.

  She took his fingers reluctantly, a tingle stealing through her with the surprisingly firm grip. Her gaze tracing the earnest expression trained upon her face, the warm brown eyes that met her own.

  “You won’t regret this,” he promised.

  As the elevator stopped, the doors sliding open to reveal a crowd of laughing hotel guests decked out in spa and swim wear.

  *****

  Dinnertime felt like a class reunion. The lobby was crowded with people in name tags, waiting to be seated in the hotel’s spacious dining room.