Unleash Me: Vol. 3

by Christina Ross

  “I’m selling the apartment,” she said. “With Lisa moving out, I don’t want to live there alone. I won’t feel as safe. And besides, let’s face it—I’m practically staying at Alex’s apartment each night, anyway. There’s no need to keep my apartment.”

  “Then why don’t you just move in with him now and still sell the apartment so we can have a proper wedding?”

  “I plan to have a proper wedding.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Getting married is just the legal part. It has nothing to do with throwing a full-blown wedding. And if you don’t think I’m having that, you’re crazy. Alex and I will have that—in our own way, and on our own terms.”

  “Your own terms? Why are you being so vague?”

  “We’ll tell everyone more about our ideas later. We still plan to get married in July. It will be small, elegant—and different. But whether it’s old fashioned of me or not, I’ll be damned if I’m moving in with Alex without first being married to him. Yes, I get it. I know I’m a host of contradictions here, but even though we share the same bed at night, so long as I have that apartment and most of my things are still in it, then I have not officially moved in with him. Call me crazy if you want, but I’m not moving in with him without be married first. And since we want to live with each other now, that marriage is happening this weekend.”

  And that was that—Blackwell gave in. She composed herself, sat up in her chair, put her elbows on her desk, and clasped her hands in front of her face. “You’re completely stubborn, you know?”

  “And you’re not? This is important to me. I know what I want, and Alex supports it and understands it.”

  “Then I’d be happy to marry you,” she said. “Somebody close to you has to do it, so naturally it will be me. I have no idea how to officiate a wedding—but I’ll do my homework and figure it out. And it’s an honor, Jennifer. I mean that. I’m touched that you and Alex even considered me. Naturally, I gave you a hard time because that’s just what I do—I can’t help myself. Do I wish we were having a traditional wedding? Of course. But if I’m hearing you correctly, it seems like that will come later, almost as if this is just a formality between you two. A means to an end.”

  “We’ll take it a bit deeper than that with our vows, but that’s basically the point—this is just meant to legalize things between us so we can move forward with the living arrangements. I know it’s unconventional, but whatever. The wedding will follow in a few months, and it will surprise everyone.”

  “How?”

  “There’s a reason it’s called a surprise. You’ll have to wait and see—we haven’t officially committed to our plan yet, but we’re close. We’ll come to a decision soon.”

  “What about the rings? Have you even chosen them yet?”

  “We chose them yesterday. They’re simple and beautiful. The jeweler is now sizing them for us and they’ll will be ready by the end of the week.”

  “I wish you had consulted me on them.”

  “It’s something Alex and I wanted to do together. It wasn’t about leaving you out.”

  “I can understand that. It’s personal—I just hope that they really are beautiful. So, where is this marriage happening?”

  “Alex’s office.”

  She closed her eyes, seeming to waver for a moment as she took that one for the team.

  “And what will you be wearing?”

  “I thought you and I could go shopping for an understated dress of some sort.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at Jennifer. “White?”

  “Yes, white. Why can’t it be white?”

  “Well, since you’re all about being old fashioned, there’s this little issue of you not being a virgin any—”

  “Why can’t it be white?”

  “Fine. White. Who cares? But why does it need to be understated?”

  “Because we’ll be in an office. And besides, the real dress I’m saving for the wedding. Got it—wedding. That’s where we’ll go all out.”

  “This is so outside of the box, it makes me want to crawl into one. What will Alex wear?”

  “I assume a suit.”

  “You assume? You don’t even know? Young lady, this is still a marriage—flashy or not. It still has a profound meaning. Why aren’t you taking it seriously?”

  “I am. We are. Our vows will attest to just how seriously we’re taking it. We’ve conspired to include something from our pasts that always has been private between us, but that we will make public to our friends. I’ve already started to write my vows, and I can promise you this, Barbara—I give myself to him in ways that might touch even you.”

  “I doubt that. Not in that dim office of his.”

  “We’ll see,” Jennifer said. And then she stood up, leaned over the desk, and gave Blackwell a kiss on each cheek.

  “You’re a terrible girl.”

  “You’re my surrogate womb.”

  “Oh, please. You know I hate that phrase.”

  “Look,” Jennifer said. “The person who gave birth to me lives in Maine with a man most would call my father. But I recognize neither of them as my parents. Not after how they treated me. Not after the years of their abuse. But here’s the good thing—I’m not angry about that anymore. It’s history. They’re history. I got away from them last year and I hardly even think of them anymore. I was lucky to find you. You admit that you say things to tease me. Well, I say things to tease you, too. Saying that you’re my surrogate womb is one of them. And while it might seem slight and funny, you should know that you really have become the mother I always wished I had, Barbara. I’m grateful to have you in my life. And I’m delighted that you’ll officiate the marriage.”

  “How dare you bring emotion into this room,” Blackwell said. But as she said it she discreetly pressed her index finger just inside her right tear duct.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  On Saturday at noon, Tank and I arrived at Wenn to witness my best friend’s marriage. As we exited the limousine and started to cross the sidewalk to the building, I took his hand, and squeezed it hard in my own. It was another beautiful day—sunny and warm, with teems of people out to enjoy the unseasonably warm spring weather and the city itself.

  “I’m kind of nervous,” I said.

  He turned to me, and I thought again about how handsome he looked in his fitted black suit and the blue silk tie I’d picked up for him earlier in the week. “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know. I just am. But I’m also excited. Jennifer has been taking all of this in stride, but I’d be a wreck if I were her.”

  The doorman standing outside the building opened one of the doors, and gave us a curt nod. “Thank you,” I said.

  “Of course Ms. Ward.”

  “Why would you be a wreck?” Tank asked when we were inside.

  “Because it’s her big day—well, at least her first big day. I guess another big day is coming at some point. The thing is, I don’t care how unusual this marriage is—it’s still big. She’s marrying Alex. In an hour, they’ll be husband and wife. Next week, you and I will be living together. Alex and Jennifer will be living together as of tonight. And then the apartment will be on the market. Before you know it, we’ll all be living different lives.”

  “Does that upset you?”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s just change, that’s all. And how quickly this has happened. I can’t wait to move in with you. You don’t even know how excited I am for that to happen. And I’m eager to see Jennifer and Alex get married—and also to witness Blackwell’s officiating of the marriage. You know it’s going to be unconventional, but what about this is conventional?”

  “What about Blackwell is?”

  “Exactly.”

  As we crossed the lobby and neared the two uniformed men seated at the front desk, they nodded at us in recognition and we crossed to the bank of elevators behind them. We stepped into Alex’s elevator, selected the button for his floor, and once the doors slid shut
, we began to lift.

  “Do you think she has something up her sleeve?” he asked.

  “She won’t derail anything—she’d never do that. She knows the importance of this wedding—or marriage, or whatever you want to call it. But she’ll do something, if only because it’s going to be just the five of us in that room. Because of that, she’ll know that she can get away with pretty much anything. I think she’ll say or do something that’s unexpected.”

  “I guess we’ll see. And by the way, have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

  I looked at myself in one of the elevator’s mirrors. I was wearing a fitted, black vintage couture Atelier Versace jacket and skirt, with nothing beneath the buttoned jacket, because really all it needed—if anything at all—was a tasteful glimpse of skin.

  With the exception of the diamond studs at my ears and my engagement ring, I wore no jewelry. My favorite black Dior pumps, stolen long ago from Jennifer, were happily on my feet, and I held a black clutch that contained tissues, a compact, and lipstick.

  “Leave it to Bernie,” I said. “He was good to see me so early this morning before he tended to Jennifer and Blackwell. He knows makeup—and he knows how to make my hair curl up from my shoulders in ways that I only wish I could do. Look at that perfect flip. Why can’t I do that?”

  “If I kissed you right now, would you be upset? I don’t want to ruin your lipstick.”

  “You won’t if you’re gentle,” I said with a smile. “When he did my face, Bernie knew I was five hours out from the event. He blotted my lips into oblivion. So, you know, have at them.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  When we stepped onto the forty-seventh floor, I was struck again by how different this floor was from the other floors I’d seen at Wenn—from Blackwell’s floor, which thrummed with hives of busy people working in a controlled environment to the few floors dedicated to Wenn Publishing, which always seemed unnaturally quiet to me given the sheer number of people who worked there.

  Alex’s floor was designed to be serene.

  From the walls to the furniture to the hardwood floors, it was beautifully decorated in masculine browns. There were no cubicles here. No areas where people could type away or collaborate. In fact, as we moved through the quiet space toward Alex’s office, where I could hear Blackwell’s voice, that seemed to be the point—this was his floor that he only shared with Jennifer and their executive assistant, Ann. At the windows were tall shades that blocked out the daylight so the artificial lighting—strategically placed around the space—could create a more intimate, welcoming mood.

  “Are you excited?” Tank asked.

  “To see my best friend get married to a wonderful man? Absolutely.”

  When we stepped into Alex’s office, all were there, but Jennifer was the first to see me, and I was immediately struck by how stunning she looked.

  I recognized her dress at once from a recent edition of Vogue—it was a sleeveless, white Valentino dentelle lace sheath dress with scalloped edges, and it was tailored perfectly to fit her curves. Instead of putting her hair up, Bernie had styled it so it flowed over her shoulders and tumbled down her back, probably because that’s how Alex liked it best—and Jennifer knew it.

  “Oh, wow,” I said when I saw her.

  She came over and gave me a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said in my ear.

  “You’re getting married. I can’t believe it.”

  “Marriage Phase One. Then we move on to Wedding Phase Two.”

  “I’m so proud of you. Are you nervous?”

  “Not at all. I’m psyched.”

  We parted, and she gave Tank a hug and a kiss on each cheek. When she pulled away from him, Alex stepped forward to stand behind Jennifer in a classic black suit and black tie. He looked more handsome than ever to me—which was kind of a feat for him to achieve since Alex never looked anything less than disarmingly attractive—but he’d nevertheless achieved it. His dark hair was parted on the side and raked away from his face with gel, and his chiseled jaw was lined with a day’s worth of stubble. Like Jennifer, he seemed preternaturally calm to me. I gave him a hug and a kiss, he and Tank shook hands—and Blackwell, who was standing in front of Alex’s massive mahogany desk, cleared her throat.

  “Hello?” she said. “I’m wearing Chanel. It’s brand new. Somebody please fawn over it.”

  “I already have,” Jennifer said of Blackwell’s light yellow suit. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Lisa?”

  “It’s Chanel. You look amazing, but then you always do. What more can be said?”

  “You’re the writer, for God’s sake. Sum it up with one word—let’s see how good you are.”

  “How about, ‘divoon’?”

  She looked pleased with that. She fingered her bob away from her face and parts of it behind one ear. “Well, that was certainly the goal,” she said. “And with a little help from Bernie—OK, fine, a lot of help—I think the suit, the makeup, and the hair rather fit the occasion.”

  “I know this will strike you dumb, Barbara, but today is supposed to be about Alex and me, not you,” Jennifer teased.

  “Don’t kid yourself, girl. I’m about to put on a performance you won’t soon forget. Tonight can be about you and Alex. Right now, it’s showtime—and I’m running the show.”

  “Oh, dear,” I said.

  “Does anyone need a shot of vodka before we begin?” Blackwell asked.

  We all looked at one another, but apparently none of us spoke fast enough.

  “Fine—you had your chance, and you should have taken it. Now, if everyone is ready, let’s get down to the business of marriage. Lisa, why don’t you stand next to Jennifer, but just a foot or two behind her? Not that far—she is your best friend isn’t she? Have you lost all affection for her? Close the gap. Good. Tank, how about if you do the same with Alex? That’s right. Perfect. Tank always gets it just right. It’s his military background.”

  “You’re so bossy,” Jennifer said.

  “And that’s one of the reasons you asked me to officiate.”

  They winked at each other, and then Blackwell turned behind her, took a few note cards off Alex’s desk, and then reached for a bouquet of flowers that were directly behind her. They were lovely—a simple, yet elegant clutch of cascading lilies. She handed them to Jennifer, and then said to Alex and her, “Shall we?”

  “Absolutely,” Alex said.

  “Yes, please,” Jennifer said.

  “Then we’re off.” She looked at each of them, and began. “Presumably, love is the reason we’re here today, but I think it runs deeper than that. And where it runs is one of the reasons why I believe this marriage will last—you two are friends. Best friends. It’s not only the love you have for each other that will carry you through the tough times, which will come and will hit hard. It’s also the friendship you’ve built over these past many months that will keep you two together when those moments strike. So, Alex and Jennifer, in the days ahead of you, know this—there will be dark times and good times, times of conflict and times of joy. Because of that, I ask you to remember the following advice I’ve learned by reflecting on my own life this week.”

  She glanced down at her cards, and then lifted her head.

  “Since both of you are nothing less than aggressive, rampant overachievers, certainly continue to work as hard as you do, but don’t forget that there also is work to be done in your marriage. That’s something I forgot in my own marriage to Charles, so pay attention to what I’m saying here—I know what I’m talking about. Tend to your relationship every day. Don’t take it for granted—even the smallest of gestures matter. At the very least, treat each other as you’d treat your best friend. Confide in each other. Say ‘I love you’ to each other—and say it often. And don’t let your lives be all about work—that would be a grave mistake. Take time to travel the world together—you’re fortunate that you have the means to do so. So do it. Make sure that you have adventures tog
ether. Make every effort to keep things fresh between you, because if you don’t, I’m here to tell you that things can go stale before you even realized it’s happened. And should it happen, you might find yourselves in real trouble. Again, I speak from experience, so listen to me on this.”

  She paused for a moment, and then looked hard at each of them. “Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes,” Alex said.

  “Of course we are,” Jennifer said.

  “Good—because you need to. You thought I wasn’t going to take this seriously today, didn’t you? Well, you’re wrong. I’m taking this very seriously because I love you both, and because I want the best for you. So, learn from my mistakes, because I’ve made a lot of them. And sometimes, believe it or not, there are times when I regret them. Does that surprise you? This isn’t the Blackwell you’re used to, is it? No, it isn’t. But this isn’t just any other day. So, I decided to share a few things with you that I should have done better in my own marriage. Along the way, you will make your own mistakes—ones I haven’t made. But if you rely on the core of what I’ve said today, you’ll have the tools to get through them, grow stronger, and fall even deeper in love than you are now. So,” she said. “Now for your vows. Please join hands and look into each other’s eyes. Alex may go first.”

  After teasing us that showtime was coming, Blackwell’s handling of the event thus far had startled me. She had fooled all of us, and dipped into her own life to assist Alex and Jennifer as they moved forward with their own lives. Exposing her own mistakes had been incredibly generous of her. I looked at her in her pale yellow suit as Alex took Jennifer’s hands and held them in his own, and my respect for her grew. I’d known her for nearly a year at this point, but at that moment? I realized I hadn’t even scraped the surface of understanding how complicated she was.