Alien Affair
Page 50
Gus is in very, very big trouble.
*****
“You want me to what?!” I all but yell in Gus’s direction. I didn’t think this day could get any worse. First, my stepbrother/best friend/man I’ve had a crush on since high school gets engaged and doesn’t tell me. And now he wants me to plan his wedding.
“Please, Emma,” he says in that pathetic voice he always uses when he’s trying to get me to do something. “We can’t get a planner on a month’s notice! There’s no one else to ask and besides, you’re really good at this stuff. You know you are.”
That is true. I planned my Mom’s wedding to Gus’s Dad when we were only sixteen, and loved every minute of it. The truth is, I love planning events. I love organizing. I love making things just so. But this...this is…
“I’ve got too much work to do!” I say, instead of what I really want to say (which is, ‘I can’t plan your wedding because I’ve been in love with you since we were fourteen years old so you should be marrying me.’)
I continue. “The creative team’s coming in tomorrow to pitch the marketing plan for the new software. I can’t miss that meeting if we’re going to get a campaign out by the end of the quarter.”
“I’ve already talked to Sam, he’s going to take the first meeting for you. He’s got all your notes, he knows what we’re looking for,” Gus says. “And I’ll get most of your other duties delegated out too.”
“It’s still a big job,” I say. “I mean, Mom and Frank’s wedding took six months to plan and it still didn’t go as perfectly as I’d like it to have gone.”
Gus rolls his eyes at me. The expression is so familiar, I’m tempted to smile at him before I remember that I’m still furious.
“Nothing ever goes as perfectly as you’d like it too,” he says. “Even when it comes off without a hitch. Because you’re a crazy perfectionist like that.”
“All the more reason you don’t want me doing this,” I answer, now desperate to get out of this, somehow. “You know me, Gus. I’ll stress out and make everyone miserable!”
“You’ll have help,” he assures me. “Ramona has an assistant, Jake. He’s flying in from Canada tomorrow. He’s coming in just to help you.”
“Then why doesn’t he plan the wedding?” I ask, frustrated at the idea of having to meet yet another person from Canada who would, no doubt, also ruin my life.
“The short answer is because he’s a straight male and knows nothing about weddings,” Gus says. “The longer answer is...I trust you. There’s no one else I would trust with the most important day of my life besides you.”
My heart skips a beat and I look into those blue eyes that are so incredibly familiar to me. Gus is staring at me with his sad, pleading look and, despite myself, I’m almost ready to give in.
“Please, Emma. Just do this one thing. For me,” he says. That’s it. That’s all it takes to push me over the edge to acquiescence.
I heave a huge sigh before saying, “Okay. I’ll do it.”
Gus’s face breaks out into the biggest grin I’ve seen from him in years. The last time he grinned like that was when we made our first sale ten years ago.
“But, you’re going to owe me big time,” I tell him trying to sound stern but feeling a smile come to my own face. “And I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me about Ramona. We talked every day when you were in Canada.”
“Like I said,” Gus says, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“You know I hate surprises,” I answer.
“And I’ve spent years trying to get you to love them,” Gus quips back. “I thought this one might help with that.”
I roll my eyes at him. As I do, I hear him chuckle. As I leave the office to return to my desk, I can’t help feeling a bit lighter. I’m still upset about the wedding. I’m still angry at Gus for keeping the whole thing so secret. But, the idea that he trusts me, and that I’m the only person he trusts enough to take care of his wedding, has given me an extra bounce in my step.
Truth be told, talking to Gus always manages to do that.
*****
There is an underwear model sitting at my desk. I walked into work today fully expecting things to go back to normal. Or as normal as they could be with Gus’s wedding less than a month away and me planning it.
I thought I would get my work for the company done in the morning and, maybe, have lunch with Ramona’s assistant so that we could talk about flower arrangements and so on.
Now, I find myself standing in the hallway, almost completely immobile, looking at the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.
His longish dark hair falls elegantly into his dark brown eyes. His skin is tanned, and his jaw has a light stubble.
He’s wearing a dark suit, jacket unbuttoned, with a bright red tie and white shirt. I can make out his torso through his shirt I can tell that his abs are well-defined and seem to end in that perfect ‘V’ shape.
I feel heat rush to my cheeks as a pool of desire floods embarrassingly to my nether regions. I walk towards my desk, half hoping that this is not Jake, Ramona’s assistant, and more than half hoping that it is.
“Hi,” I say when I reach him, “I’m Emma. You’re...um...sitting at my desk.”
“Oh, sorry!” the underwear model says, quickly scrambling up from my chair. “I’m Jake.”
Giving me a charming smile, he holds out his hand to mine and, trying not to blush, I take it.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, trying as hard as I can not to focus on how warm and softly masculine his hand feels in mine. He smiles at me again and I realize that we’ve been holding the handshake just a bit longer than was probably necessary.
With a nod, I pull away.
“Sorry,” Jake says again, “I just...Ramona didn’t tell me what you looked like so...I was just a little surprised that you’re so…”
“So, what?” I ask expecting to hear ‘short’, ‘frizzy haired’ or ‘young’. All things that people have said to me in the past.
“Beautiful,” Jake answers. Now I’m powerless to hide the blush that comes into my cheeks.
“You’re pretty good looking yourself,” I say, cursing myself for not coming up with something more intelligent or witty.
“I can’t take credit for that,” he says. “Good genes. It’s from my Mom’s side. She was a Spanish model.”
“That makes sense,” I answer, moving to the chair behind my desk. Jake pulls up a chair beside me.
“I’m sorry again about sitting at your desk,” he said, “Ramona should’ve texted you to tell you I was coming.”
“I didn’t get anything from her,” I say. “I mean, I knew you were coming today, but Gus said to expect you at lunch time.”
“Ramona changed her mind,” he tells me in a flat voice. Clearly he’s not exactly pleased with the change in plans. “She does that a lot. If you’re going to be planning this wedding, you’ll get used to it.”
“I can handle indecisive,” I tell him. “In fact, it’s where I live. Gus can’t make decisions to save his life. Unless it’s about what genius level software program the world needs next. That’s why I’m here to take care of all the little stuff.”
“Oh, Ramona’s not indecisive,” Jake says leaning over towards me conspiratorially. “She’s just a stone cold bitch. Just wait. She’ll tell you she wants something one way, then she’ll yell at you for doing it the way she told you too. She’ll pretend she always wanted it another way and make it your fault that it got screwed up.”
I balk at this news. True, the woman I met yesterday hadn’t struck me as particularly likable, (and not just because she was engaged to the love of my life), but the idea that Gus would marry a woman as horrible as the one Jake had just described was almost unthinkable.
“I’m sure she’s not as bad as that,” I say.
“Oh, just you wait,” he tells me. “She’s coming in this afternoon to see what we’ve got done so far. You’ll see if for yourself then.”
I nod, half hoping that he’s wrong, but dreading that he might be right. When he pulls out a huge binder with a list of potential florists a mile long, I have a horrible sinking feeling that it’s the latter.
*****
“No!” Ramona says, screaming at Jake for the fifth time this week. “I said I wanted daffodils and lilacs. Not roses and bluebonnets.”
As usual, she did originally tell us that she wanted roses and bluebonnets for the bouquet. I was there when she said it. But, I know it’s no use arguing with her. I just send a sympathetic wince to Jake and make a note to change the order.
“And the cake is supposed to be designer-made from La Frite bakery,” she continues, her face red. She’s not nearly as beautiful when she’s angry as she is when she’s pretending to be happy.
“We called them,” I answer her deciding to take a bullet for Jake. “They said it would take two months to make a cake like the one you want. They’re backed up with wedding orders right now.”
“Did you talk to Hank?” Ramona says turning on me. The ire in her voice is apparent and I have no idea who Hank is.
“Well, I talked to Bill at the front desk,” I say slowly knowing that an explosion is coming.
“Oh, my god!” she screams on cue. “How incompetent can you two be? Here!”
She grabs one of my post-it notes as well as my favorite pen from the front of my desk. Hastily, she jots down a number.
“There,” she says. “That is Hank’s private phone number. Call him and get the cake taken care of.”
She shoves the post-it note into my hand with a huff.
“Now,” she says tossing her long hair over her shoulder. “If you two don’t mind, I need to have a little chat with my fiancé. Believe it or not, I’ve got better things to do than babysit you.”
She gives us a superior eye roll and stalks into Gus’s office without waiting to be announced.
“I told you,” Jake says as soon as she’s gone. “The worst bridezilla hasn’t got anything on her.”
I nod in silent agreement and turn back to my phone.
“I’d better get on the cake before she freaks out at me again,” I say, grabbing for the phone at the front of my desk. Jake puts out a hand to stop me. His hand lands on top of mine and I look back at him blushing furiously.
“It’s almost five o’clock,” he says. “Trust me, the cake can wait until tomorrow.”
“You sure about that?” I ask. “I mean like you said, we’re not dealing with an ordinary bridezilla in there.”
“True,” Jake says, “but, remember, I know Ramona. I know what buttons I can push, and which to leave alone. Trust me. The state she’s in, she won’t ask about the cake again until tomorrow.”
I hesitate, my hand still on the phone, Jake’s hand still on mine. I look up into those dark eyes and suddenly, I can’t help but smile.
“Well,” I say, “if you’re sure…”
“I’m positive,” he says leaning in towards me. I can smell his cologne and it’s beyond amazing.
“Then I guess I’ll leave it,” I say.
He smiles and leans in closer to me. He’s going to kiss me. I am actually going to be kissed. It’s been two years.
I close my eyes, and—
“I can’t believe you would say that to me!” says Ramona, her voice carrying out into the hallway, causing Jake and me to jump apart.
I stare at Gus’s closed office door. I no longer have to imagine what’s going on inside. As Gus’s voice raises, I know I’m going to be able to hear everything from here on out.
“Ramona!” he yells back. But, there’s a pleading tone in Gus’s voice that contrasts hers.
“Please! Just listen! You promised you would stay on this budget for the wedding and—”
“I don’t have to listen to this anymore,” she answers. “Just take the night to get your head on straight and decide whether or not you actually want to get married.
Jake and I jump away from each other as Gus’s office door bursts open and Ramona stalks out.
She doesn’t spare either of us a second glance as she stomps angrily down the hall.
“Trouble in paradise,” Jake mutters to me with a small smirk, but I’m hardly paying attention to him.
Instead, I look toward the still-open office door and see Gus slouched in the chair at his desk, his head buried in his hands. I know I have to go talk to him even though it’ll be tough to hear him spill his heart out to me about another woman. If he really is going to marry Ramona, it’s something I’m going to have to get used to.
“Hey, give me just a minute, okay?” I say to Jake.
“Sure,” he says looking at me, a tad confused, as I make my way into Gus’s office.
“Hi,” I say closing the door behind me.
Gus looks up at me his usually immaculate hair a mess, his eyes bloodshot. His face has lost more and more of its color in the past two weeks since Ramona arrived.
“I take it you heard all of that,” he says in a weary voice, attempting a smile at me.
“That would be a fair assumption,” I say, walking over to him and sitting down on the edge of the desk in front of his chair. Just like I always do when we have chats like this.
“You okay?” I ask. I know the answer, but, I know he needs to talk and this gives him the opportunity.
“Yeah...no...I don’t know,” Gus answers without conviction, “Ramona’s just been driving me a little crazy lately.”
“What’s going on?” I ask. I try to tell myself not to get too excited about the prospect of the bloom falling off Ramona and Gus’s romance. Especially since there’s an unbelievably attractive, witty young man waiting for me on the other side of Gus’s office door. Still, old habits die hard, I suppose.
“I found out today that she used the company credit card to pay for the wedding invitations,” Gus says.
“You mean...your company card?” I ask in shock. Gus doesn’t even let me use that for business lunches. He says unless it’s strictly a business expense it goes on a personal account. And I can see why. CEOs have lost their companies over things like this.
“Yeah,” Gus says running a hand over his face. “Anyway, I tried to talk to her about it and she freaked out. She kept saying that me keeping her from using my money means that I don’t trust her.”
“But, it’s not your money,” I say. “It’s the company’s money.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Gus says. I can hear an ebb of frustration in his voice. I know enough about my stepbrother to know he’s not frustrated with me. He isn’t even really frustrated with Ramona. He’s upset that he couldn’t make her understand.
“Then she said that if I didn’t want to give her the wedding she always dreamed of, maybe we shouldn’t get married at all,” Gus says.
“I’m sure she doesn’t mean it,” I tell him. And, I try to tell the horrible part of my brain that wants to see Ramona out of his life to shut up and turn off.
“I know,” he says wearily. “She’s just tired and frustrated but...so am I! And, if she can’t see why her spending money without telling me is a problem, then…”
Gus stopped and looked down at his desk. I could tell he didn’t want to finish that sentence. Had no intention of following the thought to its logical conclusion.
He looked upset by the very idea of not getting married in a month. Dazed by it, in fact. And, I knew that if I was to help him, really help him, I had to give solid objective advice.
Advice that didn’t have a secret agenda. That didn’t try to ruin his relationship but also didn’t push him into a relationship if it wasn’t the right thing for him.
We sat in silence as I thought about the situation. I thought of everything I knew about Gus. He was kind but very stubborn, rich but incredibly thrifty, some would even call him stingy.
Then, I thought about everything I knew about Ramona, through my interactions with her these past two weeks as well as everything Jake had told me.
Despite all this, I can’t help but remember how happy Gus had seemed the day he walked in the office with Ramona on his arm two weeks ago. Clearly, this is a relationship that won’t be dissolved overnight.
So, with a deep breath, I decide to dispense my advice.
“I heard she gave you the night to think about it,” I say hesitantly. Even though the ultimatum was shouted for the entire floor to hear, I can’t help but feel like I was eavesdropping.
“She did,” Gus says with a sigh. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I think you should take her advice,” I say. “Sleep on it. Really think about what she did. Then think about what she means to you. The way I see it if you decide you can’t live your life without her...that’s worth a little extra spending every now and then.”
I try to smile as I say this and, when I see Gus beam at me, I finally manage it.
“Thanks, Em,” he says. I feel my heart begin to beat quickly when he reaches over and puts his hand on top of mine. He’s done this before. I know he means it in a friendly way. Still, my jumping pulse doesn’t seem to understand that.
“I do need to think about this,” he says, “Maybe this all went too fast. Maybe I rushed into it.”
“Sleep on it,” I tell him. “Don’t make a decision until the morning.”
“I won’t,” he says.
“Promise?” I ask jokingly. This is something we’ve done since high school.
“Cross my heart, hope to die,” he replies, “stick a needle in my eye.”
I giggle in spite of myself and his smile broadens. I can’t help but notice that his hand is still on mine.
“One thing I do know right now,” he says looking down at our tangled hands, “I don’t think I would last one day without you.”
He looks back up at me with a look I’ve never seen before. At least, I’ve never seen it directed at me before.
He moves the hand that’s not on mine up to my cheek and I remind myself to breathe. Gently, he closes the gap between us and kisses me.