Drunk in Love

by Anthology

  “It tastes like that warm, aromatic twist was the chef rinsing the salad leaves in washing up liquid.”

  I can’t help but laugh, and I accidently knock my knife to the floor. Instinctually I bend to retrieve it and hear the telltale sound of a zipper opening followed by a cold draught moving over my back, and I want the ground to swallow me up.

  “Um, Josh, I need your help,” I mutter, holding on to the front of my dress as I move to sit up slowly. If my boobs fall free I think I may just stab myself to death with the salad fork and end my misery here and now.

  “Sure, What’s wrong?”

  That’s a loaded question if ever I’ve heard one. Everything’s wrong today.

  “Well, either my zipper has just slid down, or I’ve been a real bitch in a former life and karma is paying me back with a busted zipper. Either way, I'm kind of exposed at the back. Help! Please.”

  He has the decency not to laugh in my face, and I can only just make out a faint murmur of a chuckle as he pushes his chair back to help me.

  “Jesus!”

  “Oh, shit, what? Has it ripped?” A severe panic slides hastily over my skin, and I shiver.

  “Er, no. Nothing ripped.” His words sound strangled like he’s trying not to laugh. “What the hell are you wearing?”

  “What?” I'm confused about what he’s referring to and then it dawns on me. “Oh, bollocks.”

  He pulls my zipper up and faces me with a grin so wide it looks like he’s swallowed a coat hanger.

  “You definitely weren’t planning on getting lucky tonight.”

  “Oh, fuck off. Every woman over 25 owns a pair of Spanx!”

  It’s official. This is more embarrassing than pissing myself in front of him. At least back in university he didn’t look like someone from a bloody GQ ad.

  “I'm intrigued,” he says around muffled laughter. “I see that it comes up to your bra strap, but where does it end? I mean is it just like normal knickers, or is it a full body suit thing that you’ve got going on under there?”

  I smack his arm, which only causes him to laugh more. It’s not malicious, but he’s definitely finding my misery entertaining.

  I roll my eyes and hitch the hem of my dress up slowly, the lilac chiffon pools in my lap as I flash him a glimpse of the nude fabric of the shorts that stop about two inches above the knee.

  A gentleman sat opposite notices and pulls an odd face, just as the lady beside him, no doubt his wife, catches him looking and gives him a swift dig in the ribs with her elbow. They must be Michael’s relatives. In their infinite wisdom the happy couple decided to mix up all the tables so that it wouldn’t be a case of his family versus ours and would force everyone to interact.

  “You know, Zoe, to think I almost didn’t come to this.”

  I drop the hem and smooth the soft fabric down, trying to regain a molecule of dignity.

  “Why, what was stopping you?” I'm genuinely intrigued by his answer.

  “You.”

  “Me? Why would you not come because of me?” I reach for my wine and take a sip, waiting for his reply.

  “You nearly broke my heart at university,” he admits, and I’d think he was taking a piss if not for the sincerity behind his eyes.

  “Are you messing with me? We had two dates!”

  “Yeah, and it had taken me the whole of our first year to build up the courage to ask you out, and then—bam! You froze me out with no explanation. I really liked you.”

  I take another hearty sip of Chardonnay, and by sip I mean a six-second long gulp.

  “What do you mean, no explanation? I pissed myself in public. What more explanation did you need? I was mortified.”

  He smiles, easing some of the uncomfortable tension building between us.

  “It was a drunken night out, I wasn’t bothered.”

  “Huh,” I muse. I guess I’d just assumed that I’d embarrassed him as much as I had myself.

  “You’re not one of these insanely hot guys that’s actually a bit freaky and into kinky weird stuff like women urinating on them are you?” I figure with how today is going, I should probably ask.

  His smirk doesn’t deny or confirm, but holy crap is it sexy.

  “No, Zoe, I'm not into water sports.” He’s doing air quotes and I giggle. “Although…”

  “Although, what?” My pulse begins hammering inside my ears, and I'm starting to wonder where this is going.

  “I do have a penchant for little brunettes in massive knickers.”

  I let out a noise that’s somewhere between a snort and laugh and the other guests at our table all turn sharply from their salads to look at me.

  “Do you fancy getting out of here?” Josh asks, with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he pushes from the table and stands.

  Finally, I think to myself. My knight in shining armor has at last come to rescue me.

  “You know what, Josh? I do.”

  The End…well, at least for now.

  Rescue Me is a chapter taken from Elle’s novel of the same name, coming summer 2017.

  ABOUT ELLE BROOKS

  Elle is a little neurotic; she functions on a tiny amount of sleep, and a huge amount of caffeine. Elle loves old movies, green skittles, and has an irrational fear of stormy weather.

  When she's not locked away scribbling down the crazy stories that occupy her mind, she can be found at home in East Yorkshire with her husband and two children.

  Elle can be persuaded to do just about anything with the promise of a good book, new shoes, or a bottle of bubbles. Oh, and she also loves to write.

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  YOU’RE CORDIALLY INVITED TO THE WEDDING FROM HELL

  Isabelle Richards

  1

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I just don’t understand. I don’t know how you can do this to me. It’s months before the wedding!”

  “Kelly, I love you. You know I love you, but—”

  “If you loved me you wouldn’t do this to me!” she shouts. As her voice escalates, the people sitting at the tables around us turn around and stare. Kelly’s face turns bright red as she slumps in her seat. “This isn’t how you treat someone you love,” she says in a quieter tone.

  I knew she wasn’t going to take this well, but the way she’s looking at me, as though I’ve ripped her heart through her nostrils, is too much to take. I put my hand over hers. “I’m so sorry you’re hurt. That’s the last thing in the world I wanted. But, I . . . I just really need to keep my life simple and this wedding. . . it’s just not me. It’s too much.”

  She yanks her hand back. “You’re being selfish! Everything isn’t all about you, you know! Have you given any thought to how this would make me feel? After everything we’ve been through, you just cast me aside like trash!”

  “Honey, you’re not trash.”

  “I found the most beautiful dress. You would have loved it. I look amazing in it.” Her shoulders shake as she begins to sob into her hands.

  “I’m sure you look beautiful.” Damn, what else am I supposed to say to that?

  She snaps her head up. Mascara runs down her cheeks. “Is there someone else? I mean, of course there must be someone else. Who is it?” She pulls a tissue from her purse then wipes her nose. “Is it that stupid skank from college? What was her name? Trinity? God, she sounds like a stripper.”

  “No, honey. This has nothing to do with Trinity. Or anyone else, for that matter. This was a decision I had to make. I’m so sorry you’re hurt.”

  “It should be me up at the alter with you. We’ve been in each other’s lives since the first day of kindergarten. It’s my destiny to be there for you. You’re robbing me of my destiny.”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake. Enough already. I tuck my short brown hair behind my ears then lean forward. “Kelly, like
I said, I’m so sorry you’re upset, but Finn and I both want to keep the wedding party small. He’s going to have his brother and I’m going to have my sister and that’s it. It has nothing to do with you. I love you. You’ve been a great friend to me for so long.”

  “Your best friend!”

  Not the words I would choose, considering we’ve barely spoken in years, and back when we did hang out a lot, she was a major bitch. but I smile anyway. “I hope you’ll find a way to understand. You’re still coming to the wedding. You should wear the dress you picked out. I can’t wait to see it.”

  With a huff, she tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Honestly Presley, after this, I’m not sure I’m coming. I don’t feel welcome. If I’m not important to you, what’s the point of even being there.” She drones on about how I’ve crushed her beyond repair.

  If I stab myself in the eye, we’ll have to rush to the hospital. That could get me out of this conversation.

  “I mean, we were in Brownies together! That kind of bond should be respected! Appreciated!”

  Nope. She’d probably just keep yelling at me all the way to the ER. I could stab her in the eye and run, but then I’d go to jail and end up missing my own wedding.

  “I just don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, Kelly. I’m a horrible friend. A terrible human being. You shouldn’t come to my wedding. Hell, you probably should never talk to me again. It would serve me right.” I wave to the server. “Check please!”

  “Hey baby,” Finn says with the warmest smile as he opens the door to his condo. As shitty and stressful as my day has been, one look into those soft gray eyes just makes stress melt away. He must have just gotten home from work. He’s still in his suit pants and button down and he hasn’t been able to wash the product out of his sandy blond hair yet. Finn hates putting stuff in his hair, but his law firm demands the attorneys look polished and put together. Finn’s happiest in flip-flops, cargo shorts, and a t-shirt. And no hair product.

  He helps me out of my coat, then hangs it in the closet. “How’d it go?”

  “Of the fifteen friends and cousins Mom promised could be bridesmaids, four took it okay, eight cried but got over it eventually, and three will never speak to me again.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and put it on silent. Not only do I want to give Finn my full attention, I can’t handle talking to anyone else tonight.

  “Sweet. Shrinking that guest list. Did we give them all plus ones? Because if we can shave ten guests, we can afford to bump up to the better wine package. The house wine kind of tasted like gasoline, didn’t it?”

  I kick my shoes off then head toward the living room. “Oh, no. They’ll still come to the wedding, but they’ll bitch and whine and try to make our wedding all about them.”

  “Well of course our wedding is about them!” he exclaims as he follows me. “It certainly isn’t about us—a fact that becomes clearer and clearer every day.”

  I plop on the sofa. “Then, to top it off, my dad called me. He went on for over an hour about how he is insisting we make his new wife’s niece a flower girl. I know it’s just in response to my mother’s bridesmaid extravaganza. He’s trying to make his mark on the ceremony in whatever little, petty way he can. He said Stacey won’t attend if this little brat, and I mean brat with a capital B, isn’t in the wedding.”

  “Well, you don’t really like Stacey. Is it that big of a loss if she doesn’t come?” he calls over his shoulder as he walks into the kitchen.

  “That’s what I said! I’m perfectly fine if Stacey stays home. God knows, it would keep Mom from completely going off the deep end. Did I tell you she’s scheduled liposuction and a boob job! She’s going in a few weeks so she’ll be healed before the wedding.”

  He hands me a bottle of Dogs Head Ale. “You look like you can use that.”

  “Oh, I love you,” I say, before taking a sip. Unlike me, Finn always has a stocked fridge and plenty of good beer. After the wedding, he’s in charge of grocery shopping. “This whole thing is all because Dad married someone half his age and she’s feeling insecure. Our wedding is turning into a showdown. Dad wants to show Mom and her whole side of the family that he’s moved on to younger and hotter things. Mom wants to show Dad what he’s missing. So basically, it’s going to be a shit show. Instead of sending invitations, we should sell tickets.”

  “We’ll just post it on YouTube and watch it go viral! We’ll make a fortune!”

  We both crack up at the absurdity of it all. With how crazy things are, we have to laugh, or we’ll go insane.

  Once the laughter dies down, Finn takes a sip of his beer. “Well, my family’s going to rival yours for the title of Kings and Queens of the Crazies. You know how competitive they are. They can’t just let your family get all the attention.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Oh no. What now?”

  He clucks his tongue a few times. “Where to start? Well, for one, Gram, my father’s mother, lectured me for an hour today about how we have to have a minster officiate our wedding.”

  “She didn’t like the idea of Judge Hoff marrying us? He introduced us, who better to do it? I thought it was romantic. Way better than having some minister we don’t know marry us.” I would have thought his grandmother would have loved the prestige of having a well-known and respected judge at the wedding.

  “Apparently, she’s suddenly become religious and is sure if we don’t get married by a man of God, we might as well just sign the divorce papers right after the marriage license, because we’re destined to fail.”

  Finn’s grandmother’s a tough old broad with a layer of permafrost around her so thick no matter what I do, she’ll never warm up to me. She’s never cared for me and hasn’t been shy about letting everyone know that she thought Finn’s ex-girlfriend was a better match for him. “Well. . . that sounds like your grandmother. Any other well wishes from the Hayes family?”

  Finn shifts in his seat. “My grandfather, my mom’s dad, filed a lawsuit against my father today.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What? Why?”

  Finn takes a deep breath. “So, you remember my cousin Sean? He just got married?”

  I nibble my lip as I try to remember. Finn has a huge family, it’s hard to keep them all straight. “Yeah? To Barbie? She’s a fitness model or something?”

  “She’s also my father’s new girlfriend. She works at a gym in one of my dad’s buildings. Apparently, they hit it off and then, next thing they knew, she’s moving in.”

  My jaw drops! “What? Way to bury lead! Forget YouTube. We need to call Jerry Springer!”

  “I know right? I’m having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that I’m somehow genetically linked to these people.”

  “You aren’t anything like Kitty or Peter. I think the stork must have delivered you. But you have to explain the lawsuit to me. I don’t understand, what is your grandfather suing Peter for exactly? Can you sue someone for being a douchebag?”

  Finn shakes his head. “I can’t believe he found a lawyer to take this suit. He’s suing him for the cost of my parents’ wedding, plus interest, plus the cost of Sean’s wedding. Apparently, my grandparents paid for both weddings and, since my father destroyed both marriages, he wants to be compensated. He’s sure my father targeted Barbie with the intention of hurting my mother and their side of the family. I told him he really doesn’t have a case and he should drop this, but he’ll do anything to get at my father.”

  “I can’t blame him. Your dad broke his little girl’s heart and then raked her over the coals during the divorce. Even after all these years, she’s still a mess. He’s just trying to get some vengeance.”

  He slaps his hand on the arm of the sofa. “Oh, and on top of everything, my mother filed for sole custody of my little brother, claiming my father’s behavior is reckless and a bad influence.”

  Finn’s parents had Quin as a last-ditch attempt to save their marriage, but Peter’s a dog who can’t keep it in his pants. Quin just beca
me collateral damage, another way for them to try to hurt each other. “Poor Quin. Thank God he’s almost eighteen. He needs to get out of both their houses.”

  Finn takes a long pull of his beer. “Just think, all these people are supposed to be in the same room together in less than six months to celebrate our wedding! Fun times.”

  The thought makes me break out into a sweat. My teenage years were filled with horrific memories of my parents screaming at each other every time they were in the same room. They had to be pulled apart several times at my volleyball games. They made a scene during my high school graduation. They were so obnoxious the principal stopped announcing names and scolded them from the podium. It was ugly. So ugly, I never wanted to get married. Not only was the notion of marriage completely soured in my mind, but I never wanted to put them in the same room again. But then I met Finn and my whole world changed.

  I never knew it was possible to feel this way about another person. Home had never been a happy place for me, but now I count the minutes until I get to come home to Finn. When he looks at me, I feel like I’m the only person in the world—nothing or no one else matters. He makes me laugh until my sides hurt. We are a team, partners in every sense of the word. I’ve never seen a relationship like ours, and I thank God every day that Judge Hoff introduced us. I can’t imagine life without him.

  When we got engaged, we wanted to just run to the courthouse. We’ve watched too many friends make themselves crazy trying to turn their wedding into a huge production—killing themselves emotionally and financially. Throughout the process, they completely lose sight of what the wedding is all about and why they wanted to get married in the first place. But when we told our parents, they flipped out. They all wanted a real wedding. So, we agreed to a wedding, but we insisted on paying for it, hoping we could somehow keep control of this circus. We’re trying, but it’s impossible. Pressure comes at us from all angles. Everyone has an agenda, and the demands are endless. Our hope for a small, intimate party to celebrate our wedding is becoming more like a delusion.