Three Girls And A Wedding

by Rachel Schurig

  It had a high empire waist with a full silk taffeta skirt. The top was simple—two modest silk triangles covered her chest with a beaded swatch between them. The proportion was somewhat unusual, so voluminous on the bottom and smaller on the top. It wasn’t like anything I had ever seen Kiki in before, but something about it worked. It almost made her look like—

  “A fairy!” she gasped when she stepped up onto the pedestal. She promptly burst into tears. “Oh, it’s perfect!”

  She did look kind of like a fairy. The dress made her look ethereal, delicate. I loved it.

  “Kiki, you’re beautiful,” I murmured, shocked to find my eyes were welling up.

  Even more shocking, cool, collected Mrs. Barker burst into tears. “Oh, my baby!” she cried, jumping up to hug her daughter. I think I even caught Mr. Barker surreptitiously wiping at his eyes.

  The consultant smiled at me. “Good choice,” she mouthed silently. I smiled, feeling inordinately pleased with myself. I couldn’t have wished for a better outcome.

  ***

  The following night, our last in New York, Kiki wanted to go out dancing. We had spent the entire day at dress salons. Every single gown Kiki tried on she dismissed. None could touch the Amsale fairy dress. We finally ended up back at the showroom where her father ordered it without her even trying it on again.

  By the time we were finished, I was exhausted. It had been a dizzying three days, from the trip on the private plane to the excitement of the Plaza and sightseeing, to the countless dresses I had supervised Kiki trying on. The night before we had had dinner at a fancy restaurant, Denial, that Kiki remembered from an episode of Sex and the City, before heading to the theater to see the newest hit musical on Broadway. The show was great, but it made me miss Annie. She would have loved to be here.

  So now that all my work was done, I was longing to spend an evening alone in my hotel room. I could take a bath, order room service, watch crap on TV. But Kiki was insistent. We were going out on the town for our last night in New York.

  Jason declined her invitation, saying he had to meet with a potential local client who might be doing some work in Detroit soon. In truth, I hadn’t talked with Jason much on this trip. When we were all out together he was right in the thick of things, schmoozing with Mr. Barker for all he was worth. He went with the guys to supervise the tux measurement and had accompanied us to a few of the bridal salons, where he sat on Mr. Barker’s side and parroted everything he said. But he was constantly on his Blackberry or stepping out briefly for vague meetings. I wondered what he was up to, but I couldn’t deny I was pleased to not have to deal with him much.

  Exhausted though I was, I tried to rally, knowing it was important to Kiki. I called down to room service and asked that they deliver a large coffee, then began to get ready. Before long, there was a knock on the door and I answered it, relieved and eager for my caffeine fix.

  But it wasn’t room service. It was Kiki. Standing there in a pink silk dressing gown, her hair wet, carrying a cosmetic case the size of a tackle box. “Hi!” she said. “Feel free to say no, but I was wondering if you wanted to get ready together? I think it would be super fun!”

  “Oh, uh, sure, come on in,” I said, opening the door wider for her.

  “Oh good!” she said, walking into the room. “I think it’s so depressing to get ready all by yourself.”

  “What about Bella?” I asked.

  “Oh, she’s not coming,” Kiki said, rolling her eyes and setting her case down on my vanity. “That girl never wants to have any fun. She’s staying in tonight to read, can you believe that?”

  To be honest, that sounded like perfection to me, but I kept my mouth closed. Then an uncomfortable thought hit me. If Bella wasn’t coming that would mean there would just be the four of us. That was, assuming Matt was coming too.

  “Is it just you and me and Eric then?” I asked casually.

  “No, Matty’s coming too,” she said.

  I couldn’t tell if I felt pleased or nervous.

  “Now,” Kiki said, straightening up. “What are we gonna do with your hair?”

  “Uh, I usually just curl it under…” I said uncertainly.

  “I know what you usually do,” Kiki said. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s really nice and all, but that’s, like, professional hair. Tonight we’re going out. So you should change it up.”

  “Uh, I don’t really know, Kiki.”

  “Oh, Jen, please! Please let me do your hair!”

  I looked at her uncertainly, her face lit up with excitement. “Okay, fine. But nothing too big, please.”

  Kiki rolled her eyes. “What do I look like, a pageant queen?”

  Well, actually… I thought.

  Half an hour later I had submitted to Kiki applying my makeup and was sitting with my hair up in hot rollers, feeling totally nervous about the result. What had I gotten myself into?

  “Stop fidgeting,” Kiki demanded as she applied her final false eyelash. “You’re going to look great, I promise. Now, let’s pick out clothes.”

  “I already picked out my dress,” I told her, pointing to the back of the bathroom door where my navy shift dress was hanging.

  “Are you kidding me?” Kiki asked. “Tell me you’re kidding me, Jen.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” I asked, offended. That dress was Nicole Miller, for God’s sake—though, granted, I had found it at a sample sale last season with Ginny. But still.

  “There’s nothing wrong with it,” Kiki said, squinting her eyes. “It’s a nice cut and good material…What is it, Nicole Miller?” I was surprised by her expertise from such a distance. “That dress would be perfect for a nice dinner out—but it’s totally wrong for tonight.”

  “It’s the nicest thing I brought,” I admitted.

  “We’re not aiming for nice, Jen,” she said. “We’re going dancing. It’s supposed to be fun.”

  She walked briskly to the closet and started rifling through my things. “Hmm, this might work,” she murmured to herself. “But I don’t know…No…No…Okay, I think we should go to my room and look. This tank might work.” She held up a glittery black tank top that Ginny had assigned to be worn under a black cardigan for a nice restaurant. “But not with any of your bottoms. Let’s go see what else we can find.”

  “Kiki, I don’t know…”

  “Jen, seriously, stop being such a stick-in-the- mud,” she said firmly. Her expression was so stern I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I’m in your hands. Let’s go.”

  We slipped out into the hallway and walked to her room. I felt ridiculous in my bathrobe and slippers with curlers in my hair. I prayed we wouldn’t see anyone, especially not….

  “Hello, ladies,” said a voice from behind us. I spun around. Matt. Fuck. “Aren’t you looking lovely tonight?”

  “Oh, shut up,” Kiki said. “Do you think we just wake up looking as beautiful as you usually see us?”

  “But of course,” Matt said, meeting my eye and holding my gaze. There was something in his expression…I felt myself blush.

  “Don’t tease, you’re embarrassing Jen,” Kiki said, noticing my face. “It was hard enough to get her to agree to dress up with me.”

  “Was it?” Matt asked, still looking at me closely.

  “Apparently none of my clothes, my makeup or my usual hairstyle are up to Kiki’s standards,” I said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, you have great stuff,” Kiki sighed. “But it’s work stuff. Now leave us alone, Matty.”

  Matt held up his hands. “Okay, okay. I’ll just be waiting for you in our room. Do let me know if you’re ready sometime this decade.”

  I turned my back on him and followed Kiki the rest of the way to her suite, trying hard not to think about the fact that I could still feel Matt’s gaze on me all the way there.

  ***

  As Kiki and I finished getting ready in her room, we chatted about inconsequential things: past boyfriends, favori
te places to go shopping. After ten minutes her cousin Bella got up from the couch, grabbing a book and saying she’d go downstairs to the lobby until we were done.

  Kiki sighed. “We used to be so close,” she said. “But ever since I went to college she just totally pulled back from me.”

  “Is she much younger than you?” I asked.

  Kiki nodded. “Five years. But when we were kids we were, like, best friends. She’s the one that named me, you know.”

  I looked at her in confusion. “Oh, not my real name. She couldn’t say Kimberly when she was a baby, so she started calling me Kiki. It just stuck.”

  “I had no idea your name was Kimberly,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Yeah, I think Kiki fits better,” she said happily. “Anyhow, I was hoping if I invited her to be in the wedding it might help us get closer. And my parents are always trying to get her to travel with us, to visit my dad’s businesses. Broaden her horizons a little, you know? But it seems like all she cares about is her books.”

  “It’s a tough age,” I told her, remembering how confused I felt when I started college. “Give her some time.”

  “Daddy wants her to get her MBA, like I did, so she can take over one of the divisions in his company one day. Talk about total boring. I hate my job.”

  It felt strange to be having such a grown-up conversation with Kiki. For all of her seeming shallowness, she actually had a lot to say.

  “What do you do at your dad’s company?” I asked.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m in charge of service management. That means I coordinate with all the managers at the various properties and help with hiring and stuff. It’s so boring. I mean, it’s nice Daddy helped me get a job, but I really hope I’m not there much longer.”

  “I know what you mean,” I said without thinking.

  Kiki looked at me, surprised. “I thought you loved your job!”

  Stupid Jen, this is your client, not your girlfriend.

  “I do,” I assured her. “I just don’t like working at such a big firm. I always get stuck doing club openings and restaurants and stuff. I wish I could just do weddings and nice parties, work with real people, you know?”

  She tilted her head. “I can see that. Well, now that you’re doing such an amazing job on my wedding, they’ll let you plan whatever you want!”

  “I hope so,” I said, smiling at her.

  Half an hour later I had finally passed Kiki’s inspection. She had lent me a dress of her own. It was actually similar to the one I had picked out—a simple sleeveless shift. But Kiki’s dress was about four inches shorter than mine, silver, and completely covered with glittering sequins. I felt like a walking disco ball—a disco ball in a very short skirt.

  “You’re gorgeous!” Kiki squealed once I had put shoes on (four inch tall black manolos which she insisted I keep).

  “I don’t usually wear things this short,” I said uncertainly.

  “Live a little!” Kiki said. “Seriously, you’re a knockout.”

  I peered at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t deny that she had done a good job. While my hair and makeup wasn’t anything I would have done for myself, she hadn’t gone completely over the top either.

  Kiki had curled my hair, backcombed the top (at which point I nearly had a heart attack. My mother had instilled in me very strong ideas about women who ratted their hair), but then brushed it all out, pulling it over the side in a low pony tail. The result was much thicker and wavier than I was used to, but it was still out of my way and not so totally huge as to scare me.

  “The boys got tired of waiting,” she told me, looking at her phone. “They’re downstairs at the Oak Bar having a drink.”

  I felt butterflies fill my stomach. The idea of spending the evening with Matt was making my knees tremble. “Well,” I told her, trying to sound more confident than I felt, “we should get going then.”

  “Are you okay?” Kiki asked, looking at me closely.

  “Yeah,” I told her, trying to smile. “A little tired. I’m sure I’ll perk up once we’re out on the town.”

  “You will, just you wait and see,” Kiki said, linking her arm through mine and pulling me to the door.

  A few minutes later we were stepping out of the elevator into the lobby. The Oak Bar was bustling already. It was the kind of place I would have never felt comfortable walking into on my own, but Kiki strolled through as if she owned the place. It probably helped that she did, in fact, own several places that were quite similar.

  “There they are,” she said, sounding happy as she waved over at a table in a corner of the room. Eric and Matt stood, allowing me to catch my first glimpse of them—I felt my breath catch. Matt was devastatingly handsome tonight in black slacks and a tight, black, long-sleeved shirt. He looked just dressed-up enough, but not over the top. I noted that he was wearing black leather loafers. It was the first time I had seen him in anything other than work boots.

  Just the sight of him sent my heart rate into overdrive. I couldn’t meet his eyes, instead keeping my gaze firmly on the ground as we walked toward them.

  “Girls, you look gorgeous,” Eric said in his easy way, reaching out to pull Kiki into a hug.

  I chanced a glance at Matt and saw that he was swallowing rapidly and staring determinedly at the wall opposite us. I felt a wave of disappointment that I tried to quash. Would it have killed him to compliment us?

  “Thanks, Eric,” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. “You guys clean up nice, too.”

  Kiki was looking at Matt with a little smirk on her face. Before I could ponder too much what that might mean, Eric was laying a few bills on the table and gesturing us to the door.

  “The car’s outside,” he said. “Your parents are eating at one of the hotel restaurants so they said we could have it for the night.”

  “Wow, that’s really nice of them,” I said.

  “That’s the Barkers for you,” Eric said, smiling. “The most generous people you’ll ever meet.”

  Kiki gave him a squeeze. “Well, let’s get going then! I want to dance!”

  I fell into step behind them as we walked out of the bar and through the lobby. Matt seemed determined not to walk next to me. I felt my spirits drop. It was obvious he was worried I might think of this as a double date. He may as well have shouted “Not interested!” in my face.

  The air had turned colder since we had last been outside. Automatically, I looked up at the sky. Sure enough, dark storm clouds were gathering. At least the rain had held off this long; so far our time in New York had been marked by lovely summer weather.

  “Are you cold?” said a voice in my ear as I waited for Kiki and Eric to get into the limo. I turned in surprise to see Matt standing very close to me.

  “No, I’m fine,” I said.

  Matt glanced over to see his brother climbing through the door behind Kiki. “I should have told you before,” he said, his voice low. “You look beautiful.”

  I stared at him in surprise. His eyes were dark. Something about the intensity I saw there made my stomach flip. “Thank…thank you,” I stammered, feeling confused.

  He smiled briefly, before offering me his hand. “Come on, in you get.”

  I was acutely aware of the shortness of my skirt and Matt standing behind me as I climbed into the limo and took a seat next to Kiki. To my intense relief, Matt chose a seat on the back bench rather than next to me. I don’t know if I could have dealt with him sitting any closer.

  “So, Kiki,” he said. “Which hideously trendy club are you dragging us to first?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Luckily Kiki did too.

  “It’s called Bella Notte and it’s supposed to be fabulous…if they even let you in,” she teased.

  Everyone seemed to be in a good mood. We had champagne waiting for us on ice in the limo. I was dressed up and feeling pretty. And Matt thought I looked beautiful. I took a gulp of the fizzy liquid and relaxed in my seat. With a little luck I could get throu
gh this evening without incident.

  ***

  Kiki had been right: Bella Notte was fabulous. The décor was stark, all white and black with clean lines and minimal furniture. The drinks were exotic and seemed to feature flavored vodka exclusively—but they were strong. I was tipsy within the first hour. Matt and Eric complained viciously about the lack of domestic beer, but I was pleased to find that neither of them was the kind of man who feared dancing would taint his masculinity. Instead, they both joined us on the dance floor enthusiastically.

  It was a blast. We danced as a group, Matt and Eric equally comfortable spinning either me or Kiki until we felt dizzy. I never had a moment where I felt like a third wheel or an unsophisticated charity case. I was shocked by how comfortable I felt with the three of them, how much fun I was having.

  After we had been at Bella Notte for a few hours, Kiki insisted we start club-hopping. The next place we tried seemed to be aiming for a retro feel: disco was blasting while neon lights flashed in time with the beat. It was cheesy and totally awesome.

  I kind of lost track of things after that. Kiki could really put it back, and while at first I tried to pace myself, I eventually gave into the fun. This didn’t feel like work anymore—it felt like hanging out with good friends.

  We ended up at a dive bar in Brooklyn. The boys demanded we go somewhere with a decent beer selection, and Kiki readily agreed. “I can play pool!” she said happily.

  “Do you play pool?” Matt asked me as we walked into the dark, somewhat musty bar.

  “Yes,” I said. “But not well. In fact, right now, I have a feeling I’d be seeing twice the amount of balls on the table.” I was feeling quite tipsy now. Everything seemed a little fuzzy, a little blurred. All of my stress seemed to have melted away. Why did I worry so much all of the time? This felt amazing.

  Matt laughed. “Let’s sit you down then.” He led me over the bar, holding my arm while I tried, unsuccessfully, to jump up onto one of the stools. He laughed again. “You’re gonna be in trouble tomorrow,” he said, then grasped me by both shoulders and lifted me up onto the stool as if I weighed nothing. Totally hot.