Confessions of a Wedding Planner (Bliss Series Book 1)

by Michelle Jo Quinn

  He chose to sit on the bed, shoulders rolled forward, looking beaten. I hesitantly moved toward him. When he tilted his head up, I could see he hadn't even cleaned his wounds.

  "Jake, your face." I placed a hand under his chin and moved his head from side to side, taking in the broken features of a broken man.

  He let out a little chuckle. "You should see the other guy."

  I raised an eyebrow and flattened my lips together, unimpressed. "Really? That's what you're going for?"

  His lopsided smile disappeared, and he lowered his eyes. "Sorry, Nica."

  "We'd better clean it up before it gets infected." I didn't wait for his answer. I walked to the closet to take out the mini first aid kit.

  I gasped as I opened the closet door. The scent of man hit me with full force. A mixture of sandalwood, musk, and bergamot evoked feelings and conjured up memories. Levi's shirt was hanging in the closet, and his overnight bag was sitting underneath it on the floor. All I wanted to do at that moment was to take that shirt and press it on my skin. My breath hitched. What was going on? Jake was here…with me. Not engaged. This was what I wanted, right?

  I inhaled a cleansing breath as I unzipped my luggage to take out my kit. Even as I closed the closet door, Levi's scent had infused into me. I had to clear my head. Jake was in the room, needing my help. I needed to focus. I turned to the bathroom to get him a wet towel.

  The scent of lavender and vanilla in the bathroom almost did me in. I was teetering precariously on the edge of crazy town. Levi had been sweet and thoughtful enough to run me a bath earlier that day. I wished I had pulled him in with me. I wished I hadn't gone to that dinner. I wished. I wished...

  When I returned from the bathroom, Jake had flopped down on the bed. The lights of the city coming through the window illuminated his face. His arm was propped over his forehead as he stared out into Paris at night.

  Sensing my reappearance, he turned his head. "Beautiful view." I was sure he meant the city, but my stomach flipped by what those words could have meant, coupled with that agonizingly sexy look on his face, despite the cuts and bruises.

  No, he only meant that the cityscape was beautiful. Nothing else. My mind tamped down any other possibilities. I was beginning to tire of this game.

  I went around the room, turning on every single light source there was. I wasn't afraid of the dark. I was afraid of what could happen in subdued lighting with my ex. "I need to see better." Jake hadn't asked for an explanation, but I felt the need to give one anyway.

  After zipping open the first aid kit, I ordered Jake to sit up. He pushed himself up with both arms until his face leveled mine. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I had been this close to him since we broke up, but not when it was just us two, and it hadn't felt this intimate. Or improper.

  Using the now cooled face cloth, I grudgingly rubbed off the dried blood on Jake's face. He hissed at the friction.

  "Are you trying to wipe my entire face off?" Jake complained.

  "Hush. You, of all people, should've known how to care for this. You're a freaking surgeon, for Pete's sake," I chastised him, but eased on the rubbing.

  Once I rid his cheeks, lips, and chin of any crusted blood, I picked up a cotton ball and doused it with peroxide. I lifted my hand up to his face and gave him a warning, "This is gonna hurt like a bitch." Without hesitation, I dabbed at his cuts. Jake let out a few choice words, but he let me clean his wounds.

  "Thanks, Veronica," he murmured while I placed a couple of small Band-Aids on his face. I hummed upon hearing him say my name. It sounded off. I’d only been Nica to him. He’d never called me by my first name before. Only one other person had done that every single time.

  I shook my head. It was both a part of a reply to Jake and a way to rid my mind of another man, and the confusion that came with thoughts of him. "It's nothing. I just wish you'd cleaned it sooner."

  When I looked back up to Jake, I couldn't help but get drawn into him. This was Jake after all, and once upon a time, I loved him, but this was entirely for a different reason. Once upon a time…why did it seem so long ago, even though it had only been less than four months since he and I broke up? I gazed into his eyes, and I found him lacking. He was and wasn’t my Jake. Something in him had changed.

  Or was it me?

  My heart didn’t speed up from the sound of his voice. Although I still thought of him as a good-looking man, it there wasn’t a flutter in my stomach from the way he smiled at me. If we had been alone like this weeks ago, I’d be laying claim on his lips again. I’d make sure that he’d forgotten any other woman’s name. He’d only know me. Nica. But I wasn’t just Nica anymore. I was Veronica. I was whole without him.

  Jake touched the side of my cheek. "You're so good to me." He leaned forward, eyes connected to mine, and a tickle of warm breath hit my lips.

  As I tuned in to what he was about to do, I jumped off the bed and put space between us. My hands flew to my chest, as I tried to slow down my breathing. "What do you think you're doing?"

  Jake seemed confused. He tried to stammer out a response, “I –I thought…I was just thinking…”

  I knitted my brows together and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You were about to kiss me!"

  He looked away, fiddled with his hair, and rubbed his jaw as though I had smacked him. I should have. "I thought it's what you wanted."

  My eyes rolled up to the high heavens, and I muttered a silent prayer to whoever was listening, "Give me strength."

  "I'm sorry, Nica. I didn't mean to..."

  I stopped him from further embarrassing the both of us, lifting my hand, palm toward Jake. "Please, don't say another word," I snapped, pacing the room.

  "Nica, can you please sit down? You're making me nervous," he pleaded.

  I stopped a foot away from the bed and glared at him. “I'm making you nervous?" I scoffed.

  He shrugged. I chose to sit on the chair by the window, refusing to make eye contact with the man sitting on the bed.

  Heaving out a sigh, I began, "A few weeks ago... No, even a few days ago, I would probably have loved nothing more than to let you kiss me. I will admit that I've thought of us getting back together again...but things change. I thought you' d changed. I've only recently learned so much more about you than when we were together. So I suppose it's not really you changing, it was just me not knowing."

  "I don't know what to say." His voice was full of hurt and uncertainty.

  Looking up, I could see how lonely he must feel . Everything--his engagement, his love life-- was up in the air. "I still love you. I care about you." And it was the truth. I couldn't change what had happened to us. I could never erase what we’d shared. "But you broke up with me and got engaged to someone else. To someone who unmistakably loves you back. You’re not mine to kiss anymore. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure if you were mine even before." I massaged my temples like it was going to help clear the cobwebs inside. “I was acting like a forlorn lover, and I didn’t see.” I stared at him straight in the eye. “You don’t belong to me. You belong to her. To Sandrine. I’ve witnessed it. I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

  "It's too late now. It's over." He looked away, but not before I saw the gripping pain in his eyes.

  "I don't believe that. I can't possibly accept that, and neither should you." I stood and walked to him, wrapping my arms around the man I once thought completed me. "We all make mistakes, Jake, but you have a chance to fix it. Go get your girl back. I can see how much you’re hurting without her."

  Jake leaned his head on my shoulder and hugged me back.

  We stayed like that for a while, leaning against each other, listening to our breathing, to the thumping of our hearts. His beat for Sandrine. And mine beat for someone else.

  * * *

  I kept my sunglasses on for the entire flight back from Charles de Gaulle to San Francisco International Airport. After Jake had left, I didn't bother with sleep that I knew wouldn't come. I used earphones to
ignore the noise around me rather than listen to music or to whatever was playing on the screen before me. My head was turned to the window of the aircraft, peering out but not really seeing.

  Flying coach wasn't as comfortable and glamorous as it would have been if I'd flown back on a private jet, but I couldn't stomach facing anyone I knew that morning. When Jake left, I had packed my belongings hurriedly, while frantically booking the next flight out. The hardest part had been getting Levi's stuff together. I’d waited all night for him to call or text. To see how I was doing. If I was even alive, but it was clear now, I was no concern of hi s . But I couldn’t just leave his bag in the hotel. The only solution had been to pack his things and take them with me.

  Every time I had inhaled, his scent saturated my senses and brought flashes of memories to mind—the boat tour on the Seine, the hand-holding around the city, the kiss on the Eiffel Tower, the discovery in the Louvre, the picnic, the tease of his tongue on my thumb.

  My face was dry, and my jaw felt locked, possibly from all the gnashing and gnawing and grinding of teeth, as I picked up the single piece of luggage I brought with me on the trip and the leather bag that didn't belong to me. My body was bone-tired. My head pounded. My heart ached. I was more of a mess now than when I left.

  I’d laid in bed, thinking of a man who had shown interest in me because it was convenient. Levi had needed a plaything while we were in Paris and I was too naïve to realize what he was doing until it was too late and I began feeling something for the man. Out of sight, out of mind. It stung like a bitch.

  How did one get over a heartbreak that shouldn't have been?

  I stood and lined up for a cab, moving automatically, not really thinking about what I was doing. Once I got inside one, I blurted out a destination. It wasn't until I stopped in front of my office that I noticed what address I had given.

  Jewel saw me right away and darted toward my office. I stood for a good minute or two before feeling the bite of the luggage handles on my fingers, and so I released them drop on the floor. Jewel might have said something to me, but I didn't hear it. When I turned around to see her, I was faced with someone else. Chase.

  "What the hell are you doing here?" Chase took a step toward me, concern written all over her face. "You weren't supposed to be back until later tonight."

  I felt for something solid around me, weakness claiming my body. The cool solid glass-top desk met my hand, and it was what I held onto.

  "Nica? Are you sick? You look like you're about to..."

  Stepping back, I fell into my chair. The events of the past days and the emotions that came with them burst out in forms of tears, sobs, and hiccups. Heartache wracked my entire being.

  "Oh shit." Chase ran to me, pressing my face into her undoubtedly expensive designer dress. "What did they do to you?"

  My reply was an incoherent mumble. Chase patted my head.

  "Tell me, who do I kill first, Nica," she demanded. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry over those assholes." She tilted my head up and removed my sunglasses.

  I cried even harder, reaching for the box of tissues on a shelf. "I...He...So messed...I didn't know..."

  She led me to the two-seater by my office door. After ensuring that I was comfortable on the sofa, she grabbed the tissue box and placed it on my lap. "Tell me everything."

  And I did.

  The look on Chase's face was indescribable when I finished. Clumps of wadded up tissues lay on the floor by my feet. I blew my nose into another one and threw it on the pile.

  "So that's it. Now I'm here." I sounded hoarse after having just poured all my emotions out.

  "I just...I can't..." Chase straightened and stared right at me, with disbelief in her eyes. If my heart wasn’t wrenched from missing him so much, I wouldn’t have believed it either. "Levi! Who knew?"

  "I know, right?" I hiccuped. "I didn't see it coming. Had I known, I would have prepared for it."

  "Nuh-uh. I don't think so. There's nothing you could have done to prepare for this. For him! I mean, it's Levi."

  "Yes, I get it. I know. I was there."

  Chase rolled her eyes to the left, then narrowed them. She bit her lip. "So... I know you're feeling confused and all, and I don't mean to be insensitive, but...out of curiosity..."

  I mouthed a 'what'.

  "Was he..." Chase lifted her hands, palms facing each other, then moved them apart a good foot away. "...big?"

  I coughed and snorted. "Chase!"

  "What? I'm just curious. Wouldn't you want to know if I had seen it instead of you? You know you would."

  "That doesn't even warrant an answer." I crossed my arms over my chest.

  Chase bit her bottom lip again. "Can you tell me at least if he's hooded?"

  "Goodness gracious, Chase!" I chastised my friend. "My heart is exploding here."

  "I don't mean to be insensitive. You know how I feel about uncircumcised men." She winced as if she had tasted something vile.

  "You are a horrible best friend." But I had to admit, Chase had her ways of dealing with uncomfortable situations, with her best friend's belligerence. And she was a huge proponent of laughter, or at least an uncomfortable chuckle, being the best medicine, even for heartbreak. Most especially from heartbreak.

  "I know." She clapped her hands together. Her eyes widened. "I have the best solution." She twisted her body to open the door she had closed earlier, and hollered outside my office, "Jewel, can you grab my emergency kit?"

  I groaned. Almost too quickly, Jewel came in and handed Chase her ‘emergency kit’: a bottle of liquor, two crystal tumblers, and packages of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Every month the liquor changed. Today, we had whiskey. It never made sense to anyone but Chase. And, at a certain point, when I had downed more drinks than her, my mind was numb enough not to think of anything else but the ensuing hangover and bloating the day after.

  For the moment, I was willing to do just about anything to keep Levi out of my mind, even though I knew nothing would completely eradicate him from my thoughts. Because my heart wouldn't let it.

  Fifteen

  The Contract

  "Wake up, sleepy head," Chase's not-so-soft voice pulled me out of a deep slumber.

  Fluttering my eyes open, I groaned. I tried to lift my hands to cover my face. Then I realized how much of a mistake that was. Everything ached. Even my eyeballs were too painful to move.

  It had been almost a week since I’d returned from Paris. And during the week, Chase had turned me into her number one project. She had accused Jake and company of under nourishing me. She claimed that I had wasted away. The scale in her office had proved her right. I didn’t understand it at first. Cheese, wine, and pastries were the staple diet while I was in Paris. However, with the whirlwind of excitement and stress, tension and pain, I managed to lose a few pounds. It wouldn't have been horrible if I had done it properly.

  I garbled a response at Chase's intrusion.

  "What'd you say? Come on, up and at 'em. Diego waits for no one." She bounced on my bed.

  Her movements caused trembles that my body did not appreciate. "Go to hell, Chase!"

  "Oh, so we're getting cheeky now! I like it."

  I hoped she relented, but hope was for the weak and those not best friends with a hellion.

  "Use that anger and get your ass out of bed. Let's go!" She got on all fours and bounced harder.

  There was only one way to get rid of her. Unfortunately, it was to go with her.

  "Can I at least sleep for another ten minutes? I promise I'll skip lunch to save calories."

  "What? No way! Today is pizza day."

  It sounded counterproductive, and truly, it didn’t make sense. Chase's motto was to 'exercise brutally and eat excessively'. She might even have a shirt with that on it .

  "I can't anymore. Just leave me here to wilt and die," I begged her, stuffing my head under a pillow.

  "You're so melodramatic. Get up, let's go see Delicious Diego, and I'll tell you about ou
r newest, biggest contract on the way there." She nonchalantly added that last part. Wench.

  It got me up. "Newest and biggest?" I scrubbed sleep out of my eyes, squirming at the soreness with every movement. Even the muscles that had no business being sore were sore.

  Chase nodded. She hopped out of my bed and held out her hands. I grabbed them, and she helped me up.

  "It will blow your mind." Chase loved to exaggerate, but she also knew what kept me going. I thrived on big events. The countless possibilities. The numerous ideas. The glamor in the details. The rush of adrenaline with the planning. I could use an upper from being so down in the dumps these past few days.

  After a few more protests from my body, I managed to head to the bathroom to change, grabbing an old college shirt, sports bra, and shorts along the way. I faced myself in the mirror and ignored the dark circles under my eyes while I brushed my teeth. It might have been partly the jetlag, but since Paris, I hadn't gotten a decent sleep. Too many memories. Too many thoughts of him.

  I refused to take short cuts and drink my brain cells away or take sleeping pills that weren't prescribed for me. I would get over this. I would get over him. I only wished it would happen sooner rather than later.

  Chase was standing over a floral box that sat on the living room floor when I came out of my bedroom, tying my hair up in a ponytail. There was no sense in putting on makeup or doing my hair, since, in an hour I would look as disheveled as a homeless man.

  "What's all this?" She sipped on her green smoothie and handed me my tumbler.

  "Jake's stuff." I chugged the thick concoction. It was like drinking sweet snot, but Chase promised it contained the vitamins and minerals I needed to survive Torture.

  "A breakup box?"