She picked up the phone receiver once again. To hell with what Lucinda thinks, she challenged. I need to know if anyone’s heard from Evan. At all. I need to know if he’s alright.
“Yes?” Lucinda picked up the phone rather abruptly from the reception desk. If Emma were to crack open her blinds and peek over, she could get a good view of the reception area from her office in the open concept design of the agency. But she dared not. It sounded as if she had bothered Lucinda from something critically important.
Still, manners should never go AWOL when you’re the corporation’s first impression. Though Lucinda could see on her call display phone the numbers of external numbers and the names of employees that flash across the phone’s high-tech screen for internal calls, she should never forget the art of politeness. Coworker or client, all should be addressed with utmost respect.
Perhaps Emma's mindset was different since she had been raised—though by her grandparents—from a very old-school way of doing things.
Did Lucinda have something against Emma because they both started out as receptionists at the ad agency? What was ironic was that Emma had been the one to encourage Lucinda to take the college courses in advertising and business with her at the local college to upgrade in the advertising industry. They both had agreed that it was an exciting field. Both agreed to sign up. But Lucinda never bothered and said she didn’t have the time and was happy being reception. Emma shrugged it off at the time. She would speak to Lucinda at another time.
“Lucinda, has Evan called in?” Emma couldn’t wait to let the words roll off her tongue. With equal anticipation, she couldn’t wait to hear the answer. Her heartbeat accelerated in her chest.
Silence.
Emma could hear Lucinda smacking her gum into the phone. Was she enjoying this? Honestly, she was going to sit down and chat with Lucinda on her phone manners—still, Emma waited.
“Nope!” Lucinda continued to chew gum audibly.
“No?” Alarm rose in Emma’s voice. She didn’t want to be the one to raise any suspicion or unnecessary panic. Lord knows she had enough supply within to be spooning it out to everybody else. Still, she was all too familiar that gossip travelled quicker than the speed of e-mail in the office.
One false word and that was it!
Still, as Gramps once told her in a famous quote: Bright people talk about ideas. Average people talk about things. And small people talk about other people.
Right now, Emma didn’t care how she would look to small-minded people.
“Well, that’s strange. He’s usually here first thing Monday morning, bright and early. We have the weekly meeting soon.”
More silence.
More silence followed by that annoying gum-smacking Olympics Lucinda had going on in her mouth. Emma wanted to shout out, “Will you just stop it, already!?”
“You know, you really shouldn’t be chewing gum while talking on the phone,” she wanted to say. But she’d never seen Lucinda being overtly rude in the presence of clients, admittedly. Not as far as she knew. And quite frankly, she wasn’t about to hand over the extra satisfaction to let Lucinda know it bothered her.
“Oh, wait a minute. Hold on,” Lucinda said. Emma could hear Lucinda tapping into her keyboard. The soft sounds of the keys. As receptionist, Lucinda often checked her e-mails first thing in the morning. Emma figured she must have just gotten more e-mails.
“Well, well, well,” Lucinda chimed. She then murmured bits of the e-mail as she read it under her breath. “Yep. Seems like he left a message he’d be back in the office on Tuesday.”
“What?” Heat climbed in Emma’s throat. Why didn’t he tell Emma about this? And why didn’t she get the e-mail, too, on her BlackBerry?
Emma thanked Lucinda then hung up the phone. What was Evan playing at now? Was he trying to show her something? Emma logged onto her desktop computer and tapped her fingernails on her desk as she waited for the Fletcher Advertising logo to launch, then…
She logged onto her internal e-mail and waited briefly for the inbox to spring up. One of the downsides to being out of the office for a few good days was the amount of new e-mails piled up in the inbox. Of course, she only connected her personal e-mail accounts to her BlackBerry phone.
“You have 175 unread messages.”
“Great.” She sighed and clicked on the inbox logo. Most of the e-mails were impersonal ones from suppliers and associates, some spam and other nuisance correspondence.
None of the e-mails were from Evan.
Crap.
She clicked out on the logout button on the top of the screen and swung her chair away from the desk and leaned back.
Okay, so he’s not hurt. He’s just "not that into me," she mused in relation to a popular book she had read.
The ringing sound of the phone distracted Emma’s pity party. She reached quickly to pick it up. It had to be Evan.
“Hey, girl, it’s me Genie.”
“Oh.” Oops, she sounded a bit too disappointed. She quickly acted to uplift her tone but Genie already slipped some more of her own words in.
“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? Oh, let me guess—Evan still hasn’t called you back.”
“Yep.” She sighed heavily. “Still no answer.”
“Is he alright?” Genie sounded alarmed, concerned.
“Oh, yeah,” Emma sighed, nonchalantly. “Lucinda informed me that he sent her an e-mail this morning. But none to me, of course. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Maybe he thinks I’m-”
“No. Don’t even say it, girl. You are the last person in the world who is easy. It’s not like you haven’t spent a lot of time with him in the past. Not like you ever flirted with him before when you did have a chance. You both were caught up in the moment of passion—that happens, girlfriend. And besides, you’re both getting married this week. For better or for worse.”
Emma swallowed. “Oh, yeah. That’s another thing. I’m just wondering if he’s had a change of heart or cold feet or worse.”
“Didn’t he tell you he was going to go along with it?”
“Yes, but—“
“But nothing, girl. Just don’t take things too hard. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason why he hasn’t called you back yet.”
“Oh, yeah. And I just can’t wait to hear it.”
Before getting off the phone, Genie reminded Emma that she had to go to the Bridal Boutique to pick out the simple dress she had tried on once. For the ceremony, of course. Emma was debating whether she should rent it or buy it for the day.
She had already spoken to the woman at the boutique who agreed that she could make any rush adjustments within twenty-four hours for Emma.
Emma hoped it wouldn’t take too long since she wanted to swing by the hospital again. She spent most of the weekend with Gramps, pushing him around in his wheelchair on the hospital grounds, the garden, the park. She took him to a nice themed park where they had a barbecue. Gramps enjoyed the fiasco. She really wanted to make it up to him for not being there with him during the few days she had to be in New York. It would have been nice if Evan could have been there. Gramps asked several times about Evan.
Emma swallowed hard.
Still, she had promised Gramps he would meet Evan soon. She only wished and hoped in her heart that Evan would not let her down. But then, he wasn’t usually the type to. And he was working closely with her on this new Weddings R Us account. Why would he want to risk ruining their personal relationship?
Emma had visited Gramps on her way to work, too. He chastised her for coming in too much. “Pumpkin, you’re gonna wear yourself down. I don’t want you getting all burned out on my account.”
“Oh, Gramps! There’s no such thing as me getting burned out—certainly not on your account. Trust me, this is a picnic. A walk in the park for me.”
Really, it was.
Emma thought of the countless times Gramps had been there for her when she was growing up and going through her most difficult
times.
The sacrifices he’d made to go to her art classes, her recitals, her games. He worked hard all day and took time off whenever it had anything to do with his granddaughter.
He missed out on some of his beloved bridge games to make her events if he had to. How could she not return the favor? How could she not want to return the favor? She enjoyed his company and would miss him terribly when he departed. She really wanted to spend as much of her time with him as she could.
Besides, she wanted to ensure that he got proper care and wasn’t neglected because of short staffing at the facility. She wanted to sit with him and feed him. To help him. The nurses did an excellent job but with one nurse to ten patients, it seemed as though someone could get short changed. The nurse may be a wonder-person, but certainly could not attend so many patients effectively. They couldn’t possibly be in ten or twenty rooms—all at the same time.
That was simply impossible.
She worried because Gramps was too shy to press the nurse call button because he didn’t like to “bother anyone.” Trouble was, Emma watched for herself how the nurse kept coming into his room and asking if he needed anything to which he would always say he’s good.
Then he may or may not hesitate before spurting out, “Well actually, I wouldn’t mind another glass of juice, if you don’t mind.”
The nurse would then smile and get it for him right away. Still, Gramps said he felt bad to have to trouble people for things he used to be able to do himself.
Emma reminded him that he once used to get things for people, including a roof over the head of his family and food in their bellies and much more so there was certainly nothing wrong with having the favour returned now that he really needed the help and be on the receiving end.
“It’s called turn taking, Gramps,” Emma had said as she smiled and gave his shoulders a good squeeze.
After she got off the phone with Genie once they’d made arrangements to meet for lunch, Emma turned back to the computer screen. With her mouse, she clicked on the Weddings R Us folder and proceeded to do last minute touches on designing their new company logo they had agreed for her to work on.
A few hours breezed by quickly. Emma glanced at the clock on the computer and couldn’t believe it was already lunchtime. She had been so absorbed in working on the Weddings R Us logo design, back and forth on the phone with the client in New York, finishing up on other projects she had for other clients and so forth.
Emma was glad the sun shined bright as she glanced over at her office window. The scenery was beautiful. She enjoyed her loft glass office. She was grateful Evan took his employees' environment into consideration. Not only did everyone have ergonomically friendly furniture, but their equipment was high tech with the best of options.
He always told his employees that a relaxed mind is a creative mind. He also made it a point that everyone should have a good view of the lake and the beautiful scenery of Mercy Springs. That was why he chose that office space on the top level of the four-story glass building.
Also, he felt that a beautiful environment sparked creativity. So if you were on the top floor of the loft, so much the better. Not that accounting didn’t have a good view. He studied the psychology of colors and took great care in designing the office space from the beginning. He certainly worked hard and paid attention to the minute details. Emma bit down on her lip. She hoped he hadn’t forgotten the little detail about a getting married to her this week.
Later, she crossed over the street to the Bridal Boutique. At least something was shining bright in her life at the moment—the warmth of the sun mellowed her skin. The right amount of cool breeze calmed her.
She didn’t want to push the whole Evan thing right now. She was planning on discussing their arrangement with him tomorrow—and a few other things, too. She really didn’t want him to think she was incapable without his presence. They’d made an agreement. He was a man of his word. That was that. She’d at least give him a chance before ringing off his ear.
When she saw the Mercy Springs Bridal Boutique sign, Emma thought back to her trip to New York and her most recent client. She would just love to use their services. But it wouldn’t be right. It certainly wouldn’t be professional. Especially given the fact that she was pretending to marry the boss. She shook her head and grinned—she could just see the look on Ms. Endo’s face if she ever found out the truth. She would just have a huge hissy fit. She would probably chastise Emma about using the institution—the sacred institution of marriage for personal gain.
The door chime sounded as Emma walked in the boutique. She spun around when the attendant approached her.
“Welcome back, stranger.” The woman held out her hand and shook Emma’s.
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice. I just got back from New York.”
“No probs. Let’s get going. You said you were meeting a friend here?”
Just then, the door chime sounded again and Genie waltz through with her school bag swung over her back, her shades on and jeans with a spring jacket.
“Sorry I’m late,” Genie said as she walked up on the hardwood floor, her black, leather ankle boots stomping hard on the wood, making a clopping sound. She looked so cool, so relaxed. Emma was thankful she could make it in between her classes. Talk about a caring friend. Loyal, more like it. She may not have much family, but even if she could count one friend on her hand—that would be enough.
“I was just getting things together.” The woman went around the corner then came back with a gown in her hand. She held it carefully, like a delicate piece of art.
“You know, on average, a bride usually has three dress fittings—"
“Told you,” Genie interrupted the bridal shop attendant as she raised a brow to Emma.
The shop attendant didn’t seem too impressed with the bordering-on-rude outburst. She cleared her throat, then continued. “As I was saying, a bride usually has three dress fittings. The first involves major alterations. The very last fitting would be taking care of all the fine details.” The attendant placed the gown on the table.
“I know you had your eye on this one last week, when you came in here in that panic rush. I’ll make an exception in your case, since you want to speed things up with your grandfather’s condition.” The bridal attendant clasped her hands to her chest and smiled as she tilted her head staring off into space. “How sweet. That is so romantic. I hope my grandkids don’t forget me when they're getting married. Especially if I end up in the situation like your dear grandfather. How old is he again?”
Emma swallowed. “He’s eighty. He’s going to be…” Emma broke off, almost in tears. The words got caught in her throat momentarily. She wanted to say that he’ll be eighty-one on Christmas Day but the truth was, according to what the doctors told her, he wouldn't be around Christmas Day. She fanned herself inside and tried to push those thoughts away. That was just too overwhelming for her.
Sensing her discomfort, Genie reached over and squeezed Emma’s shoulder. Where would she be without supportive friends like Genie?
“Well, let’s get going then, shall we?” The bridal attendant explained to Emma that she would get all the finishing touches done pronto. Of course, Emma was spending a hefty amount for her appreciation of their rush efforts.
She stood on the stool and had the dress placed over her. She remembered what the lady had said about undergarments being left with the gown. She pulled out of her bag her silk lingerie that she would be wearing under the dress.
“Good. Good,” the bridal attendant said as she proceeded to pin the parts of the dress that were too big for Emma. “I’ll take those from you later. It’s imperative we have everything you’ll be wearing for the day and that will go with the dress. I can’t stress this enough,” the woman said with pins in her mouth sticking out as she removed each one by one to pin to the appropriate areas. She stood back and looked at Emma as if eyeing a model on a runway. She tilted her head to see if it fitted the way
it should.
Emma gushed at her friend Genie who was busy grinning and shaking her head, all the while making small talk to settle her nerves. Genie was one of the most honest people she’d ever known. She really wanted and got her opinion about everything. A feat to which Emma was truly grateful. Emma could not believe she was actually going through with this.
It all seemed so—surreal.
Emma had dreamed about this day. To be a bride. To be fitted. Of course, this whole getting married this week was a bit unexpected. She smiled to herself. She was glad to be doing this for Gramps.
Emma had her bodice fitted. The attendant checked her for comfort and accuracy. And told Emma to walk around with all the adjustments to see if she was comfortable.
“You know,” the woman warned her, “bridal gowns have a nasty habit of behaving differently on the day of the wedding when they are finally stitched. I know you’re pressed for time, but after I make the adjustments, I’ll need you to come back and you can do the walk all over again.”
An Unexpected Bride Page 13
