Dress Rehearsal

by Jennifer O'Connell

  As I replaced Bed and reached for Bath, my cell phone’s techno-ring cried for attention.

  “Where are you?” Robin asked impatiently.

  “Pottery Barn.”

  “Oh, Jesus. Back to the mother ship, huh? So I got your message, what’s up?”

  I sat down on a cranberry twill Pearce sectional and settled in like it was my own living room. “Do you think we should set Paige up with someone?”

  “Don’t you think Paige has enough going on in her own life right now?”

  I’d actually been thinking that Paige didn’t have enough going on. Sure, she was keeping busy with work, but what about all the hours she was alone? Paige needed someone else to keep her occupied so she didn’t dwell on everything she’d just given up. And Hugh was just what the doctor ordered.

  But the other half of Operation Save Paige obviously didn’t feel obligated to try and make up for Paige’s broken engagement. “Besides, who the hell would we set Paige up with? It’s not like either of us is exactly surrounded by single guys all day.”

  “I met this guy, he was in the boutique meeting up with his sister.”

  Robin sounded skeptical. “So you want to set her up with a guy who helps his sister pick out a wedding cake?”

  “No, he was meeting her for dinner. Anyway, he was exactly what I’d picture Paige going for, and he just happens to be a mortgage broker.”

  “So they can make beautiful property transfers together?”

  “I was just thinking that maybe we owed it to her, considering we’re the reason she’s not getting married anymore.”

  “She still has the ring, you know,” Robin informed me, but I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to make of that bit of information.

  “She does?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, I know she hasn’t spoken with Steve. He left a few messages on my machine, but eventually he stopped calling. She didn’t want me to talk with him.”

  Robin seemed to be weighing the two contradictory signals Paige was sending –was she holding onto the ring because it meant there was hope? Or did she tell me not to talk to Steve because she knew it was hopeless.

  “So, let’s set her up with this guy, if he’s willing,” Robin agreed. “How much more damage could we do?”

  I was hoping we’d be able to undo the damage we’ve done. “Vivian came to see me today.”

  Robin laughed, as if remembering something funny Vivian said. “She’s a riot, isn’t she?”

  “I didn’t know you had an agent.”

  “I needed someone to make sure my interests were represented. So are you going to do the book?”

  “Vivian’s going to get back to me with an offer.”

  “You don’t sound that convinced.”

  “I don’t know. I picture all these brides-to-be drooling over cake pictures like they’re confectionary porn instead of delicious desserts that are meant to be eaten.”

  “And how is that different from what you do now?”

  Maybe that was what really bothered me. I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Chapter 15

  “I’m going out for a little bit,” I announced, pushing my chair back. It was Wednesday afternoon and Julie had her appointment at Gamble Mansion. I hadn’t figured out how to proceed with Neil, but I figured I could at least get some answers from Julie. It seemed impossible that the Neil I watched drive away in a rented moving truck could be the same guy who showed up in the boutique. There’d been nothing overtly wrong with him; he didn’t even let one little annoyingly incorrect declaration that he could care less slip from his lips. Lips that used to kiss me, I might point out.

  If anyone could convince me that Neil and I were never meant to be, that he and Julie settled on the same cake and I just happened to share the happy couple’s tastes, you’d think his fiancé would the one.

  “Where are you going?” Maria asked.

  “To check out a reception site.”

  “For who?”

  I hesitated before answering. “Neil.”

  “You mean Neil and his fiance, don’t you?”

  I shrugged.

  “Is this still about that nutty theory of yours?”

  “Of course! What else would it be about?”

  “Charlie.”

  “Charlie? This has nothing to do with Charlie. Besides, who have you been talking to about Charlie?”

  “Paige.”

  “Well, whatever she said, she’s wrong.”

  “Then what’s this about?”

  “The cake!” I repeated, for a second time. Didn’t Maria listen? “Did you not hear what I just told you?”

  “I heard you. I just don’t understand you.”

  It didn’t matter if Maria understood me. She wasn’t the one who had the answers I needed.

  “Don’t do it, Lauren,” she warned, her face fixed and serious.

  But I was already on my way out the door.

  Walking into Gamble mansion is like stepping back to a time when wealthy merchants built elegant homes in Back Bay and introduced their debutante daughters at coming out parties that rivaled even the most extravagant wedding. In fact, that’s exactly why the mansion’s Louis XV ballroom was built. I’ve provided cakes to over one hundred ceremonies at the mansion, and was intimately familiar with all of its historical nooks and crannies.

  While I knew what to expect of the tasteful foyer, I didn’t know that Julie would be standing in the center of the foyer’s Oriental carpet when I arrived, almost as if she’d been waiting for me.

  “Lauren! What are you doing here?” Julie rushed over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward her mother. “Mom, this is Lauren Gallagher. How’d you know I’d be here?”

  “You mentioned something the other day and I had a question to ask you,” I stammered, hoping she’d buy the line I’d been rehearsing. With any luck I’d get an invitation to stay. “I’m working on a book of cakes and I was wondering if I could include the cake you and Neil selected?”

  “Of course you can,” Julie answered quickly, making me feel like an idiot for making the trip to the mansion for something so stupid. “But you didn’t have to come all the way here to ask me.”

  “I’m on deadline,” I lied.

  “Well, since you’re here, I’d love it if you’d take the tour with us and give your opinion. I’m still a novice at this.”

  Before I had a chance to answer, the events manager came toward us, a clipboard in one hand. “Hello, Lauren.”

  “Hi, Susan.”

  Julie looked confused and then hit the side of her head with the heel of her hand. I almost expected her to tell us she should have had a V-8. “Of course you two already know each other. I should have realized that.”

  Susan nodded graciously. “You’re lucky to have Lauren making your cake.”

  Julie met her mother’s eyes and they turned to me and practically genuflected. “We know.”

  Susan clapped her hands. “We better get started, we have a lot to go over.”

  Susan led the way and we all followed as she navigated the way through the wood paneled library where Neil and Julie’s guests would enjoy cocktails before heading into the ballroom for dinner and dancing under about ten thousand crystal droplets that would sprinkle light like falling stars

  Julie kept glancing over at me, as if asking for my approval.

  “It’s lovely,” I told her and scanned the library for a decanter of scotch.

  “Were you interested in holding the ceremony indoors or outside?” Susan asked Julie, who in turn shrugged and asked, “Lauren, what do you think?”

  I think you shouldn’t be asking a woman who’s gotten up close and personal with your fiancé’s penis. “Let’s take a look.”

  Susan took her cue and made a grand gesture of releasing the French doors leading to a private courtyard.

  “Why don’t you walk outside and look around,” Susan suggested, nudging Julie out the door. “It really is beautiful.”<
br />
  Julie crooked a finger at me and I trailed behind. I just hoped her mom couldn’t see the forked tail tucked between my legs.

  Julie’s mother and Susan stayed in the library discussing the hors d’houvres, leaving Julie and me alone in the courtyard surrounded by nothing but frozen flower gardens and the ghosts of weddings past.

  While Julie tried to calculate how many chairs the space could hold, I figured it was now or never.

  “When did you know Neil was the one?” I practically whispered.

  “Probably on our second date,” Julie paused and looked at me. “I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

  “What was it about him that made you know?”

  “It wasn’t one big thing, more like lots of little things. It’s not like I made a list, you know?” Julie laughed at the ridiculous notion that anybody would make a list.

  I laughed along with her. A list. How crazy.

  “When Neil picked me up for our second date he brought me laundry detergent.”

  “I hear that’s usually a gift reserved for the third date.”

  Julie giggled. “That’s funny. No, really, when we went out on our first date I kept telling him how good he smelled and he told me it was this detergent he used. So he brought me a bottle. Neil;s a sweet guy.”

  Needless to say.

  “He’ll make a great dad,” she added.

  No argument there.

  “And he’s obviously intelligent,” Julie pointed out.

  Obviously.

  She smiled shyly and I was ready to clamp my hands over my ears, afraid Julie would reveal his prowess between the sheets and blood would start spurting from my ears. “And good looking.”

  No blood, just agreement. He really was.

  “And there’s just so much more, you know?”

  I nodded. I couldn’t disagree with a single thing Julie said.

  “So what do you think?” Susan stood in the doorway, waiting for an answer.

  “We love it,” Julie sang.

  We?

  Julie skipped up the steps to hug her mom and then went off arm in arm with Susan to tour the ballroom.

  Julie’s mom waited for me to walk with her. “So, Julie told me you used to date Neil.”

  “Years ago.”

  “He’s wonderful, isn’t he? I bet you’re sorry he got away,” she nudged me good naturedly, like we were two girlfriends sharing an inside joke.

  But the joke was on her, because I didn’t let Neil get away. I’d given him away. And I was about to change that.

  Chapter 16

  I flipped through the Boston Magazine I found on the seating area’s coffee table while I waited for Paige. She was in the midst of negotiating a deal for one of the Boston Celtics, and they were down to their final offer. Paige had the Celtic on her cell phone while she played hardball with the seller’s agent on her desk line.

  Paige asked Robin and me to go check out a house she was seriously thinking of buying. Apparently the property had been on the market for a while, and although she thought it was a great investment, Paige wanted three sets of eyes there to see if she was missing something glaringly wrong.

  Although I couldn’t hear what she was saying, I knew from the look of concentration on her face that the call was nearing an end.

  I crossed and uncrossed my legs, trying to get comfortable on the black leather couch that was designed more for design impact than client relaxation. Robin was already ten minutes late, but I didn’t mind because I needed some time away from the boutique to decided my course of action. I was meeting Charlie for lunch tomorrow but I still wasn’t sure how to proceed with Neil. I knew he was going to be at Macy’s but how would I explain that I just happened to be browsing in the china department when he showed up?

  When the front opened and set off the soft chime used to notify the agents of a new arrival, I looked up for Robin.

  But it wasn’t Robin. In fact, it was the anti-Robin. It was Robin’s ex-husband. And he wasn’t alone.

  Mark walked straight up to the reception desk and didn’t notice me until he’d given the receptionist his name and turned to take a seat on the couch.

  “Hello, Mark.”

  Mark stopped in his tracks, causing the woman trailing behind him to walk right into his back. The startled expression on his face led me to believe that even though he’d decided to use an agent from Paige’s office, he never thought he’d find one of us waiting for him to arrive.

  “Lauren, hi.”

  I waited for Mark to introduce the woman, but instead he reached for her hand and pulled her in closer to him. No introduction was forthcoming, and Mark’s message was received loud and clear - he’d decided that she should remain nameless, probably for her safety and the safety of all involved.

  I wasn’t sure of the protocol one was supposed to follow when encountering a friend’s ex-husband, but after knowing the guy for so many years, I assumed some level of familiarity was expected. Being cordial didn’t diminish my allegiance to Robin, did it?

  I stood up and leaned in to graze his cheek with an innocuous kiss, but Mark obviously had a more formal greeting in mind and quickly backed away from my puckering lips, leaving me kissing the empty space between us. I resorted to an awkward embrace/handshake combo, our shoulders bumping together as we both counted the seconds before we could let go without seeming obviously relieved.

  With our greeting out of the way, I sat back down and pasted a friendly smile on my face, a smile that said I was completely comfortable in this unexpected situation. A smile so casual it never let on that almost every day I felt his presence in everything Robin did and said.

  Mark and the woman took the loveseat against the wall, putting some intentional distance between us.

  “Would you like some coffee?” the receptionist offered, and we all jumped at the distraction with a resounding yes!

  In a city the size of Boston, it was bound to happen sooner or later, and it seemed to me that we’d been lucky to make it this far without coming face to face with the object of Robin’s preoccupation. For better or worse, Mark and I were bound together by the same circumstances that once required that we befriend one another, and now demanded we circle each other cautiously. The very recognition of our acquaintance was an acknowledgement that what brought us together in the first place no longer existed. The only thing we had in common was the very reason we could never really be friends – Robin.

  “Are you buying a new place?” I asked, hoping I didn’t seem nosy, but dying to find out why Mark and the woman were there.

  “Sheila’s showing us a two bedroom duplex over on Marlborough.”

  Showing us? Mark was moving in with the woman seated to his right?

  “Sounds nice.” Sounds like Robin was going to lose it when she found out, which, considering she was expected to arrive any minute, I expected to happen shortly.

  “We’re all set,” Paige called out, walking toward me with a huge grin on her face. “They took the deal.”

  Mark stood up and stepped forward, his hand extended in what I assumed was an attempt to avoid another embarrassing embrace. “Hello, Paige.”

  When Paige realized that the man waiting for her hand was Mark, she blinked a few times as if expecting the evil apparition to disappear.

  “Mark, nice to see you,” she responded tersely.

  I caught Paige checking out the woman on the love seat, and then looking around for our missing friend. “Maybe we should go,” she suggested, taking the magazine out of my hand. “Now.”

  I grabbed my purse and was ready to get the hell out of there, when Sheila came through the front door – followed by Robin.

  “Sorry I’m late, Mark. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” Sheila rushed up to Mark, but he moved back, stepping in front of his girlfriend as if to shield her from what was about to take place.

  Robin never made it past the doorway, where she stood silently watching the unlikely crowd gathered in th
e waiting area. After the initial shock, during which she must have clenched and unclenched her fists at least four times, Robin seemed to be deciding how to play the situation, carefully assessing her alternatives. Lucky for all of us, she’d chosen to take the high road – usually the one less taken by Robin when it came to Mark.

  “Hello, everyone,” she said coolly, and then nodded in Mark’s direction, her expression pinched. “Hello, Mark.”

  Even though Robin had chosen to act calm and composed, Mark didn’t look like he was buying it. After responding with a perfunctory smile, he sat down and placed a protective hand on his girlfriend’s knee, causing the veins in Robin’s forehead to throb uncontrollably. The girlfriend stared at the floor, attempting to make herself invisible.

  “Ready to go?” Robin asked, still holding the door open.

  Paige snatched her jacket from the coat rack and we were out the door before Sheila could ask why we were making a run for it.

  “What the fuck was that?” Robin snapped once we were on the sidewalk and out of sight. “Who the hell was that woman he was pawing?”

  “They’re looking at a place,” Paige told her.

  “They’re looking at a place? Together?” Robin practically spit out the word. “And there wasn’t another agency in all of Boston they could go to? He knows you work there.”

  “We’re one of the biggest in the city, Lauren. I doubt he did it on purpose.”