Rumors: Angela & Tyler

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Rumors: Angela & Tyler Page 14

by Rachael Brownell


  "I figured as much," he remarks, my answer satisfying him apparently.

  "Well, I can't wait to meet her," Vinnie says, drawing the attention away from me as my brothers and father take a seat.

  "You've never met Angela?" Hunter asks.

  "Nope. Have you told her I'm staying with you this week by the way?" he asks.

  "Not yet, but she won't care. She's been dying to meet you since I told her you were in the wedding."

  "You're not worried she'll leave you for me?" he jokes, the table erupting in laughter, myself included.

  Damn, I missed hanging out with Vinnie. I forgot how easy it is for him to turn a shitty day into a good one with just one comment, one joke, or one inappropriate statement.

  Chapter Twenty

  Angela

  “Tyler, I'm home!”

  “In here, babe. We have a guest.”

  When I walk into the kitchen, I’m met with two sets of eyes. One I'm familiar with and one I'm not.

  “Ang, this is Vinnie. He's going to crash here until after the wedding if that's cool.”

  A couple inches taller than Tyler, Vinnie's the exact opposite of what I thought he would be. From the way Tyler described him, I imagined a short, stout man. He has piercing blue eyes, blond facial hair, but nothing on top. His bald head shines from the light above him.

  “Of course,” I reply moving toward Tyler's open arms. Wrapping my body around him, I push up on my tiptoes and kiss him deeply on the lips. “Any friend of yours is always welcome.”

  “Do you two want me to leave the room?” Vinnie asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

  Tyler pulls me to his side and starts telling me all about their weekend. Vinnie chimes in from time to time, giving me more details than I need or want to hear. The play-by-play of six grown men, drunk, wrestling, and causing each other bodily harm gives me a laugh.

  When it's my turn to talk about the weekend, I freeze up slightly. I want to find out if Tyler heard about the rumor, but I don't want to bring it up in front of Vinnie. In fact, I don't want to bring it up at all.

  The rest of our night is spent drinking wine and talking about the upcoming week, the wedding, and Vinnie's plans while he's visiting. I get the distinct feeling from him he's not in a rush to leave, so I ask if he'll stay at the house while we’re on our honeymoon and he immediately agrees. This seems to surprise Tyler at first, but he doesn't say anything. I have a feeling the two of them will be talking about it later once I'm not around.

  Five days.

  It feels like I've been planning this wedding for years when it's only actually been months. Now I'm down to the wire and still have more to do than I'd like.

  Centerpieces.

  Flower arrangements.

  Meet with the venue.

  Confirm our reservation for dinner on Friday night.

  So much to do, so little time. Thank God for Emerson who's been by my side since this morning helping me with all the little details. Vinnie has proven to be a great help as well. If nothing else, he's kept me laughing and my mind off how stressful this week is going to be.

  “So, what time do we need to be at the venue Friday night for rehearsal?” Emerson asks.

  “I'll know more after tomorrow, but I'm thinking six p.m. It should only take thirty minutes or so to run through the ceremony. Our dinner reservation is at seven o'clock.”

  “Thirty minutes?” Vinnie asks. “All you have to do is walk down the aisle and say I do. That takes like five seconds.”

  “There's more to it than that. If it was that easy, I wouldn't make everyone give up their Friday night for me.”

  “What about Saturday?” Emerson chimes in. “What time do you want us all to me here?”

  “The guys are meeting at your house at ten a.m., so why don't we meet here at the same time?”

  “Where is Tyler staying Friday night?”

  “What do you mean? He's staying here.”

  “No, he can't. You aren't allowed to see him Saturday until you walk down the aisle.”

  Laughing, I shake my head at Emerson. Tyler and I are far from traditional and so is our wedding, but she has a point. Not that I want to stay even one night in this house without Tyler.

  “Why don't you stay here and he stays with Ryder?” I suggest.

  “What about me?” Vinnie asks. “Where the hell am I supposed to stay?”

  Emerson and I share a look before shrugging our shoulders and focusing our attention on the checklist on the counter in front of us.

  “Seriously. I'm not staying here with a bunch of chicks if Ty's not to be here.”

  “A bunch of chicks? Is that all we are to you?”

  “Well, if the shoe fits...”

  Emerson invites Vinnie to stay at Ryder’s on Friday night and he happily accepts. With the house to ourselves, Emerson and I should be able to finish any final details left that night. I'm hoping to be able to relax, but I have a feeling we'll still be working on centerpieces if this morning is any indication. It took us each an hour to finish one and we have twenty more to do.

  Four days.

  Every surface of the house is covered in centerpieces. Emerson and I were able to get a few more done last night and this morning. Now we're headed to the venue to discuss the final details with Mrs. Krump and her team.

  Table set up.

  Where I want the dance floor and the DJ to be set up.

  All the little details. Details I wouldn't have thought of. Things I assumed would just happen without my input.

  That's not the case.

  Emerson takes the lead, looking to me for permission before making any big decisions. She's good at this. She knows more than I do. I can't imagine what my stress level would be without her by my side right now. As it is, I feel like I want to run away.

  With Tyler.

  Elope.

  Screw a big wedding.

  All I need is my dress, a plane ticket, and my future husband.

  Emerson saw that look on my face earlier today. She called me out on my thoughts of evasion. Bluntly, might I add.

  "I'll kill you."

  Her blanket statement drew me out of my thoughts and back into the conversation I was supposed to be taking part in.

  "What?"

  "You wanna run. I've seen that look before. Every bride considers it at one point in time. Planning is a lot of work. Weddings are stressful. If they were easy, everyone would plan them."

  "I wasn't planning to run," I assure her.

  "My ass. Just know I'll kill you if your wedding day arrives and you're not there. I'll hunt you down, tie you up, and bring you back. Plus, you can't get married without me. I won't allow it."

  "So why not offer to run with me?"

  "And encourage you? Not my style. Plus, you've put a lot of hard work into this weekend, and I know you'd be disappointed later on if you pulled the plug for a five-minute ceremony in Vegas or something."

  Hardly. I need to make it to the weekend first before I can enjoy all the fruits of my labor.

  Three days. (Wednesday)

  It's snowing. Tiny flakes are falling from the sky, blanketing everything it touches in a sheen of white.

  This cannot be happening.

  I'm getting married outside. That's what the plan was anyway. That was the discussion we had with the set-up team yesterday.

  The snow melted weeks ago. The weather's been slowly warming up. When I checked the forecast last week, it was calling for high sixties, low seventies.

  What it wasn't calling for was a late spring snow shower or temps in the low thirties.

  "Are you seeing this?" I ask as soon as Emerson picks up the phone.

  "Ignore it. It'll be gone by tomorrow morning," she replies, her voice strong and confident yet lacking the reassurance I need.

  "What radar are you looking at? Mine says this shit is going to fall straight through the weekend. They're calling for two inches or more."

  Em doesn't respond, but she doesn't
have to. I can practically hear her thinking up a new plan. An indoor plan. One that the weather has no effect on and will calm me the fuck down because right now, I'm about to entertain thoughts of pulling my hair out.

  "Okay," she begins. "Here's what we're going to do."

  Two days. (Thursday)

  Today has been the longest day of my life.

  It's almost ten o'clock, and Ty and I are just getting home.

  Emerson and I arrived at the venue at eight o'clock this morning. The entire team was there along with our wedding party. With such big changes, we needed all hands on deck to help.

  Em worked out all the details while talking me down yesterday. Then she sent me to the spa so the massage therapist could work out the tension in my muscles.

  The snow is showing no sign of stopping. No matter how positive our attitudes are, no matter how much we pray for clear skies, Mother Nature is going to give me a run for my money.

  Hence the new plan.

  The seating chart Ty and I spent so much time on... thrown out. We have to shift all the tables around to make room for a walkway. The tables that were once down the middle of the room are now shifted left and right.

  I don't like it. It looks awkward, but it's going to have to do.

  The table for the wedding party... gone.

  We're splitting everyone up and having them sit around the room. Not that anyone cares, except me. I care.

  Pictures. This is the one thing I won't budge on.

  I'm not sacrificing having beautiful pictures because it's snowing. These are the memories of our wedding day, and I want indoor and outdoor shots.

  Vinnie, being the stand-up guy I'm quickly finding out he is, has agreed to make sure I have a shoveled walkway to the back garden.

  "Are you okay?" Ty asks as we crawl into bed.

  "No. I'm disappointed." My honest reply surprises me. Rolling toward him, I find Ty biting his bottom lip with worry.

  "I know. I'm sorry."

  "There's nothing you can do. It's not like you made it snow. It's just... when I dreamed of our wedding, I wanted it outside. I saw us amongst the blooming flowers, under the trellis. If I had wanted to get married indoors, I would have picked a church, not that things didn't turn out beautifully."

  "I get it, babe. I do. And I wish I could change things. You know, we can still get married outside if you want. A little snow’s never stopped us from doing anything else."

  The smile on his face tells me he would marry me outside in a snowstorm if that's what I wanted.

  It's not.

  I shouldn't care so much about where we're getting married. At the end of the day, after we both say I do, it won't really matter if it was outside in the garden or on the dance floor. I'm still going to be Mrs. Tyler Dixon. He's still going to whisk us away to Greece.

  We're still going to live happily ever after.

  "You know what, babe? It's all going to be fine. As long as you're there, it'll be the best day of my life."

  "I'll be there with bells on. You can count on it," he promises, kissing me softly on the lips.

  One day. (Friday)

  Pick up my dress from Emerson's.

  Go to the salon for a mani-pedi with the girls.

  Pack up the car to decorate the venue.

  Rehearsal.

  Rehearsal dinner.

  Sleep like the dead. (Hopefully.)

  It's a long list. One that I plan to make my bitch today.

  Why?

  Because tomorrow is going to be the best day of my life. In order for that to happen, I have to finish preparations today. Time is up. This is it.

  As I leave the salon, my arm linked with Emerson's, we talk final details. Even though snow is still falling and it's cold as fuck outside, today is a great day. A day I'm going to remember for a long time.

  I'll cherish it.

  So when I woke up this morning, I decided I would embrace everything that happens today. I would accept the things I cannot change and make them the best they can be. That begins with an indoor wedding.

  When we arrive at the venue, three hours before rehearsal is about to start, we find the tables draped in linen already and Mrs. Krump waiting for us with champagne glasses in hand.

  "Ladies," she says, handing each of us a glass. "A toast. To love, to marriage, and to a beautiful wedding tomorrow."

  Clinking glasses with my best friend and a woman who has managed to win my heart with very few words this week, I take a sip of my champagne and enjoy the tart bubbly as it makes its way down my throat.

  "Ready?" Em asks, setting her glass on the closest table.

  "Let's do this," I reply enthusiastically.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Knowing I won't be able to sleep with Ang wrapped in my arms tonight doesn't sit well with me. I've been trying to talk her out of this for two days and she's not budging.

  So, instead of fighting with her, I pack.

  While Ang and Emerson are setting up the venue, I take my things over to Ryder's and drop them off, Vinnie in tow. She kicked him out too. Not that I'm surprised.

  "Just think. It'll be like the frat house all over again. Well, except the girls. I'm assuming we're not allowed to invite girls over tonight."

  "I actually want to get married tomorrow, so, no."

  Turning into Ryder's driveway, Vinnie lets out a whistle.

  "Why in the hell are you complaining about staying here? Looks to me like Ryder has plenty of room."

  Ryder's house is impressive, inside and out. I prefer mine, but if I have to stay somewhere else, his place will do. Vinnie's right. There's plenty of room for everyone. Vinnie can take the guest room and I'll sleep in the room above the garage.

  "Hey, man. Thanks for letting me crash," Vinnie says as he pulls Ryder in for a man hug.

  "No problem. Whatever Em wants, Em gets."

  "What's Emerson have to do with this?" I ask, tossing my bag in the corner.

  There's not much in there. A clean pair of clothes, my shaving kit, and a sweatshirt. I left my tux in the car so I can take it to the venue in a few hours.

  "Em told me she kicked you both out and offered up our place."

  "I thought it was Ang's idea to sleep apart tonight. I should have known better. Ang sleeps better in my arms. I'm going to kill your woman, Ryder."

  "Chill. It's tradition. You can't see her tomorrow until the ceremony. How are you supposed to avoid her if you wake up next to her? You'll curse your marriage like I cursed mine."

  Laughing, I shake my head. "I have a feeling your marriage was cursed from the get-go."

  Punching me in the arm, Ryder smiles. "Maybe so, but I've learned my lesson. You don't wanna take the chance. Plus, she's going to be busy all day tomorrow. It's not like you'll see her anyway."

  Nodding, I follow Ryder and Vinnie into the kitchen. I haven't been to the office in a few days, so Ryder fills me in on what I've missed. Thankfully, it isn't much. Macie came to him a few times with small issues, but he was able to contact the clients and get things fixed.

  "Something’s definitely going on between Dad and Hunter, though. Remind me to ask him about it later tonight. He spent all day yesterday in Dad's office. Canceled all his meetings and everything."

  Hunter doesn't cancel meetings. He doesn't leave clients hanging. If anything, he works overtime to ensure they're happy without being asked. He goes above and beyond without complaint. I'm not even sure he knows what it means to take a vacation.

  "Do you think it has anything to do with Brianna?" I ask, motioning with my eyes toward Vinnie.

  It's not my place to share Hunter's personal business, so I'm praying Vinnie doesn't ask for information.

  "No. I think it has to do with Dad. I overheard a little of their conversation last weekend. Dad sounded like he was handing over a few things to Hunter. Any idea why?"

  "Do you think he's ready to retire?" I suggest.

  The idea is almost laughable. My father will more than likely w
ork until the day he dies or my mother forces him to quit. He's not there yet. He's still young. Well, young enough to keep working anyway.

  "Doubt it. Did you see the posting he put up on the website the other day?"

  Why would I be looking at our website? Why is Ryder? We know what happens in the office.

  When I shake my head, he continues.

  "He posted a job opening for a marketing executive."

  Marketing? As in, Hunter's job?

  "That doesn't make sense. Do you think Hunter is leaving and hasn't told us yet? That would make more sense than Dad retiring."

  Clearing his throat, Vinnie draws out attention to his phone. He's pulled up the Dixon Advertising home page and zoomed in on the post Ryder was referring to.

  Dixon Advertising is seeking a full-time marketing executive. To be considered for the position you must have a degree in business, marketing, communications or a related field. Please send your references and resume to [email protected] to apply.

  What in the actual fuck?

  He's hiring someone for Hunter's position. I'd be more concerned if he was hiring for my position, but still. We've helped my father build the firm from the ground up, just the three of us. Why would he want to bring someone else in?

  "I'm calling Hunter. I want to know what's going on," I state, picking up my phone and dialing his number.

  "So, do you care if I apply?" Vinnie says as I hit send.

  Raising an eyebrow at him, he smiles. "What? I kind of like it here. Thought maybe I'd stick around for a while. Plus, I need a new job. Mine sucks."

  Ryder chuckles and starts telling Vinnie more about the position while I listen to Hunter's phone ring and ring before his voicemail picks up.

  Oh hell no.

  ME: Need to talk.

  HUNTER: On the phone with Dad. Call you back.

  ME: Come over to Ryder's.

  HUNTER: Can't. Talk tonight at rehearsal.

  Looking up at the clock, we don't have much time before we need to leave and meet up with the girls. That's going to have to do.

 

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