by Vivian Ward
I stop because I don’t want to tell her the rest, so I pretend to greedily drink my wine, gulping it down until there’s nothing left.
“And?” she asks.
“Ah,” I wipe my mouth, finishing off the last drop. “He said he’d take my invitation off the table if you didn’t come.”
Her eyebrows contort as she tries to comprehend what I just said, and then her jaw drops.
“Wait,” she braces herself against the counter. “He told you that you couldn’t come if you didn’t bring me?”
I nod, unable to speak.
“But why? Why would he care whether or not I was there with you? I don’t understand.”
Sighing, I run my hand through my hair and hold onto the back of my neck, shrugging.
“I don’t know, babe. I’m just telling you what he said.”
“Maybe he was just joking. He was kidding, right? Or you’re joking?”
“I’m afraid not. I wish I were making this up, but that’s what he said.”
She lets it sink in for a minute and takes a healthy drink from her glass.
“Logan, what are we going to do? I can’t cancel my bridal shower, and I don’t want it to cost you partnership at the firm,” her voice trails off.
“I don’t know,” I say, refilling my glass. “Could you maybe push it forward or back a day? Just have it on Sunday instead of Saturday?”
The fire that ignites behind her eyes tells me that I’m in a lot of trouble. I can practically see the flames of hell threatening to lick my skin if I make any other suggestions, so I slowly back away, hoping if I play dead she won’t kill me.
“You. Did. Not. Even.”
She walks closer toward me, and I can see how mad she is. Big mistake on my part.
“What? No,” I say, laughing, putting my hands in front of me as a peace offering. “I would never.”
I love my Piper to death, but when it comes to the wedding, it’s something that is not to be fucked with. She is in total control, and nothing happens without her approval.
“Good,” she purrs.
A moment later she slumps down in the chair realizing what’s at stake.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “All of this wedding stuff is making me crazy. You know that usually, I’d bend over backward to make things happen for you, but that’s supposed to be my day.”
I can tell she feels bad about it and I hate that. I don’t want her to feel guilty.
“The thing is, I’ve talked to Meagan and Deb about it. I was hoping one of them would make me feel better about not going with you, but they couldn’t. I feel awful.”
“I know, Pipes,” I kiss her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. The thing is, it’s been something that’s been bothering me anyway. I want to be there to show my support for you. I want to be there for you,” she caresses my hair.
“You do?”
I’m not entirely surprised because that’s how she is, how we are, but to hear her say that she wants to be there makes me feel so much better. It’s nice to know that she’s not just blowing me off or hasn’t given it a second thought. I’d really like for her to be right next to me, but I realize that would be selfish and I’d never ask her to do something like that.
“Of course!” she smiles at me. “Listen, I don’t want Ford to take that invitation off the table so let me do something thinking on this. Okay?”
“No, you don’t have to do that. I’m such a bad fiancé.”
“Are you crazy?” she sits on my lap and plants a kiss on my lips.
Her cherry flavored lip gloss coats my lips and I love the taste. It tastes almost as sweet as she does.
“Look at this big ass rock you bought me,” she holds her engagement ring out in front of us, admiring it in the light. “And when we seal the deal, it’ll be even bigger. You’re the best man a girl could want.”
“Huh. I see. Is it because I buy you big diamonds?” I tease her.
“No, you have a big cock too, and that helps,” she laughs.
“How would you know? It hasn’t been inside of you for almost two days.”
“Well, let’s go fix that problem right now, big boy,” she stands up, holding her hand out to lead me to the bedroom.
“I’d be a damn fool if I said no,” I turn her hand over and softly kiss her wrist.
“Yes, you would be,” she agrees, laughing as we walk through the foyer. “Maybe I’ll find a way to get you out of this mess and then you can fuck me on your desk once you get your private office.”
“I do love the way you think, my future Mrs. Kraft.”
Chapter Six
Piper
There’s no way that this can be happening. The last thing that I want is for him to lose this opportunity, so I’ve figured out a way that I’m going to try to get him out of it. I feel kind of bad though because I almost feel like I’m sneaking behind his back.
Usually, I’d just talk to him, but he’d never agree to me seeing Mr. Ford about this. He’s too proud to have his fiancée do anything for him, especially when it comes to talking to his managing partner.
Logan probably doesn’t realize that I know this, but he didn’t sleep at all last night. He said that he was coming to bed late because he had to get things ready for a case that he was working on, but I know that’s not the real reason. He’s worried about the party, or potentially losing it.
As soon as I can sneak away from my desk for the first time today, I head straight to the break room to put my plan into action.
“Ford and Associates. This is Rebecca,” the ditzy receptionist answers.
Nobody likes her, but for some reason, they keep her around.
“May I please talk to Mr. Ford’s legal secretary, Kelly?” I ask.
“Who’s calling?”
“I’d rather not say, but it’s urgent.”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “But I can’t transfer you until I’m able to say who’s calling.”
“Please,” I sigh, rubbing my temples with my fingertips as I cradle the phone against my shoulder. “My husband is one of the partners, and I’m trying to pull off a surprise. I just want to keep a low profile.”
I feel sorry for lying to her, but the less anyone knows what I’m up to, the better. Reluctant, she finally lets out a heavy sigh and transfers me back to Kelly’s private line.
“Hi, Kelly?” I ask when she answers the phone.
“Yes? May I ask who this is?” Kelly replies.
“Hi, Kelly. This is Piper, Logan’s wife. How are you?”
“Good,” she says. “Rebecca must have mixed up the transfer. Would you like to transfer you to Logan?”
“Oh, no. Please don’t do that. I was actually hoping to talk to you.”
“Me?” she asks.
“Yes,” I playfully giggle, trying my best to sound friendly. “I was wondering when Logan is going to be out of the office?”
“When is he going to be OUT of the office? What do you mean?”
“Is there any particular time that he won’t be there? I’d like to come and talk to Mr. Ford in private, and I don’t want Logan to know.”
“Oh,” she says, realizing my question. “I’m not sure. I don’t know Logan’s schedule as I don’t work for him, but I’m sure I can ask one of the paralegals and find out. Can I call you back?”
“Sure, let me give you my number,” I say to her.
After we hang up, I sit at my desk unable to work. I’m too distracted. I feel like meeting Logan’s boss behind his back is wrong. I feel like I should tell Logan, but all I want to do is talk to Mr. Ford and try to reason with him. Maybe if I can make him understand that his party is the same day as my bridal shower, he’ll drop it and still give Logan the chance to make partner.
The last thing that I want is for Logan to lose out on an opportunity that could really advance his career all because of my bridal shower. And it’s not like I feel tha
t my bridal shower is more important than his career, but it’s the only one I’ll ever have. All of my friends have planned their weekend around this. My best friend even took vacation and practically pulled teeth to attend it.
Marriage is about compromise and sacrifice. That’s what all relationships are, really. Don’t we all do things that we can’t or don’t want to do to make others happy? At least at some point?
On my way to lunch, I’m walking across the street to a sandwich shop when my phone starts ringing, and I immediately realize that the number is most likely Kelly.
“Hello?” I answer, happy that she called me back.
“Hi Piper, is this a good time?” she asks.
“Yes, it’s perfect.”
“Good,” she says. “It’s Kelly.”
“I know. I’ve been waiting for you to call me back. Were you able to figure out his schedule?”
“I did,” she says. “But I’m sorry to say that the only time Logan will be out of the office this week is tomorrow and unfortunately, Mr. Ford won’t be here either.”
“Damn,” I say. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”
She laughs, and I can almost picture her tossing her head back. Sort of like a Cruella de Vil from 101 Dalmations.
“Honey, I’ve heard a lot more than that working in this law firm. These guys hate to lose so when they do; they let ‘em rip. But listen, I did talk to Mr. Ford.”
“You did?” I ask, surprised that she took the initiative for me.
This woman doesn’t know me very well, and Mr. Ford isn’t a man to be bothered.
“Yes, and he said that if you’d be willing to, he could meet you at The Indigo Room tomorrow evening around 6:00 since he’ll already be in that area.”
The Indigo Room is a swanky lounge where all of the attorneys and judges go to meet, as well as other significant figures, so I bet he has business there which is why he won’t be in the office. They feature secluded areas where the clientele can hold private meetings.
I’ve never personally been inside of The Indigo Room, but Logan has told me all about it when he’s gone to meet prestigious clients that they were working for.
“Sure, that will work. Thank you so much,” I say to her.
“And Piper?” she asks.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t be late. Mr. Ford has little patience when he’s doing favors. You wouldn’t want to upset him.”
“I won’t,” I assure her. “I’ll be there.”
The call ends without any reply from her, and I’m left wondering how I can play this off.
Logan is usually home by then, but if he has to be at the courthouse or has other business to attend, maybe he’ll be late.
Maybe.
As I finish out my work day, all I can think about is how to persuade Mr. Ford to see things my way and how I’ll work around Logan’s schedule.
Chapter Seven
Logan
“How was your day?” Piper asks as she pours us drinks to go with our dinner.
Loosening my tie, I push up my sleeves and begin cutting through my steak. She always cooks them perfectly seared and just pink on the inside. Starved, I take a bite before answering her.
“Oh,” I roll my eyes. “It’s delicious!”
“Thank you,” she smiles, pleased with my approval.
“Today was brutal. I had to get everything ready for tomorrow, and I’m not totally sure that I got everything. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who does anything around that place.”
She grins at me, admiring me as I devour the dinner that she prepared.
“That’s why you got the invitation instead of the others. I bet Mr. Ford won’t withdraw your invitation at all. It’s probably just a ploy to scare you,” she says.
She sounds so confident, and I wish that I had the same confidence, but she doesn’t know Ford like I do. When he doesn’t get his way, he’s not a happy man.
And I know why he wants her to attend the party. She’s fucking gorgeous. Her plump lips, those soft eyes, and her long beautiful hair. Who wouldn’t want to look at her? She’s every man’s dream.
That’s why she’s mine.
“As much as I’d like to believe that, I don’t think so, Pipes.”
Ford has a reputation for flirting with all the ladies, including the wives of the other partners. It’s like a conquest for him to see how many women he can take to bed.
“I think you’re wrong,” she says.
Pouring us another glass of wine, she plants a soft kiss on my cheek and smiles sweetly at me.
“What time do you think you’ll be home tomorrow?” she asks after topping off my glass.
“Hard to say,” I take a drink. “I have to meet with Whitlow, the other attorney working against us, and then I’ll have to talk to our paralegals to make sure they can get us what we need before we proceed with the case.”
“Do you think you’ll be home early or late?” she presses.
I’m not sure why she’s so worried about what time I’ll be home. She hardly ever asks.
“Um, I really can’t say,” I tell her, finishing off the last of my dinner. “I know it won’t be early at all. That’s completely out of the question. I’ll be lucky to make it home on time, honestly.”
She pushes out her bottom lip and makes a sad face.
“Why?” I ask.
“Oh, no reason. I was just wondering.”
I watch her clear our plates and rinse them at the sink before loading them into the dishwasher. It’s a mundane task that she does every evening but I never get tired of watching her. The only thing that would make it better is if she were to put on a skimpy maid outfit and prance around the house while she does chores.
I’ve fantasized about that a lot. I love it when she wears lingerie and dresses sexy for me. She has an amazing body, and I love looking at her.
I really lucked out with her, and I remind myself of that daily.
“What are you looking at?” she asks me, coming to sit on my lap.
“Just my amazing fiancée. You’re so beautiful,” I stroke her face with the back of my fingertips. “You make even the dullest chores seem so exotic.”
She tosses her head back and laughs, her cheeks blushing a slight crimson. It’s the same color her face flushes when we’re having sex, and I love it. The color suits her well.
“Whatever,” she says, playing with the buttons on my dress shirt. “You’re so crazy.”
“No, I know a good thing when I see it,” I say to her.
Pulling her fingers to my mouth, I gently kiss each one of them.
“I love you,” I say to her. “I’m the luckiest man in the world. Do you know that?”
The blush on her cheeks glows a little brighter.
“No,” she says. “I don’t.”
“Let me show you,” I kiss her neck.
She snuggles up to me, allowing me to inhale the smell of her body spray. I love the scent she’s wearing. It’s a mixture of flowers with a hint of vanilla.
“More,” she says. “I like it when you show me.”
Her eyes look deep into mine, and I swear I can see trouble clouding them.
“What’s wrong, babe?” I ask, pulling back from her for a moment.
Piper is always so fun and carefree, but the worry is written all over her face. Something isn’t right; something is off.
“Nothing,” her eyes pop open. “Why would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know. You just seem like you’re nervous or anxious about something. Is everything okay?”
Staring straight ahead as though I’m not there, she bobs her head.
“Everything is fine,” she answers.
“Are you sure? If something is on your mind, we can talk about it,” I tell her.
“Nope, nothing is on my mind. I guess I’m just a little stressed about my bridal shower and the wedding and our honeymoon. You know how it all goes,” she reassures me.
With
a hint of a smile spreading across her face, I briefly think about all the stress that she’s probably under and I’m sure I’m not helping any. Come to think of it; I’ve not helped much at all.
I’ve let her handle everything and make all of the arrangements. I tried to help her in the beginning, but it’s like she has this perfect wedding in mind that she wants to play out and I didn’t want to interfere. I want her to have the wedding that she’s always dreamed of so I stepped aside to let her do whatever it is that she wants to be done.
Now I sort of feel selfish for not taking on more of the tasks. I’m sure she needs help, I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do or where my role fits in all of this. I have no idea what kind of flowers, or what color they’re supposed to be.
Everything is lavender-this and gold-that or pink lace-this and floral white-that.
While it’s our wedding, it’s her big day, and I want her to be happy, so I’ll let her make all of the arrangements, so they’re exactly what she wants, and I’ll just make sure she’s very happy on the honeymoon.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t been much help in all this, Pipes. I’m just not sure how you want things so I figured I’d let you do most of it but if you need help, I’m here. I’ll do anything you need me to,” I assure her.
“Oh, I know,” she says. “But I really just wanted to know about your schedule tomorrow.”
This is really strange. She’s never been this obsessed with the work hours that I keep.
“What’s going on, Pipes? Why do you keep asking? Isn’t tomorrow Wednesday? What’s so special about tomorrow?”
“Nothing,” she says, getting off of my lap. “I was just curious. You know how I like to plan ahead and have dinner ready when I can.”
She’s acting so strange, but I’m not sure why.
“Where are you going?” I ask as she begins to make her way out of the kitchen.
“I’m tired. I think I’ll go put on my jammies and call it an early night.”
Watching her walk out of the kitchen, my gut tells me that she’s keeping something from me, but I’m not sure what it is. She’s never kept a secret from me in all the years we’ve been together, but it’s just a feeling I get.
