“Not a chance.”
“Fine. This is it. I’m sick of it. Brendon get your sorry ass out of my house, and go home to your fiancé. You know, the woman you’re going to marry in a few weeks!”
He looked at me with a shocked expression on his face. “You cursed.”
I rarely cursed. “Out!” I pointed to the door like that would solve this problem.
“I’m looking out for you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re worried that I’m going to move on. Well I have Brendon. I moved on a long time ago. Get over it, move on, marry Allison and have a wonderful life with her. What we had ended for both of us a long time ago.”
“Damn, I’m sorry Anise,” I figured he had realized the ludicrousness of his actions and he was ready to move on. “You’re right, this is your life and you deserve to be happy with whomever you decide to fuck.”
I felt every muscle in my body tense up. Forget yelling, I needed my butcher knife. I relaxed a little because I realized he wanted me to get angry. He wanted me to get so angry that I would start to throw things and holler and run myself ragged, so he could gloat over the fact that he could still get to me.
Alex was standing right beside me, and I had my arm out to hold him back. “Good. I’m glad we’ve got that clear because I love him, and he loves me. I plan to fuck him for the rest of my life.”
I could see the look of sheer horror on Brendon’s face. I was more concerned with Alex. He had an expression that I couldn’t read and I was hoping that I didn’t scare him away with my “rest of life” statement and all the cursing I had been doing. It’s not ladylike; but when I get angry I forget the other words I learned through my years of growing up and only the bad ones tend to stick.
“Well shit,” he said, and I knew that he finally got it. “Guess you are over me.” He looked almost sad. “Well all right Anise Meyers I get it; you don’t have to spell it out.”
I did have to spell it out, write it on a good year blimp and translate it into a hundred languages until he got it.
“We’re friends. I guess I can’t cheat on my current with my ex,” he winked. I had the natural reaction of wide eyes and wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say. “Just kidding,” he said. I doubted that he was.
“I’ll have Allison make sure she gets the correct count over to you first thing Monday morning.” He gave me a look that told me he was giving up…for a little while anyway. “Nice meeting you Alex.” Brendon didn’t wait for a response before he turned and walked away.
I waited for the door to close, walked over and locked it. I took a deep breath before turning around. I knew Alex and I would need to discuss Brendon yet again.
“How the hell does he have a key to your place?”
“What! He has a key? Why didn’t you tell me that?” I opened the door, but Brendon was already gone. “Now I have to change the locks.”
“You didn’t know?”
“No I didn’t know. If I knew I would have changed the locks already. How did he get a key?” It took a minute to register, but then it did.
“I’m going to kill her,” I said through gritted teeth. I remembered that two weeks after I had moved into my new home I had given Tay a key. I went off to that luxury resort my mom insisted I go to in order to recover from my impending divorce. Tay kept an eye on my place for me; when I came back I never asked her for the spare key back.
I picked up the phone and angrily punched in Tay’s number. “Tay why did you give Brendon a key to my house?” I yelled without even saying hello.
“Uh...”
“Well!”
“Oh. Um, I should talk to you about something.”
“So talk.”
“Well I got drunk one night after Dan and I had a fight…” Tay drunk is never a good thing. “I couldn’t drive so Brendon drove me to your place. I don’t know why other than it was closer. I think I passed out. I woke up naked. I don’t think we did anything. At least he says we didn’t, but I don’t really remember getting naked. He said I dumped my purse in his car while I was looking for the key.” She started crying, and I started feeling guilty.
“Don’t worry. I’ll buy a new lock today.”
“Anise I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It happens; just go easy on the alcohol okay?”
“Okay, I promise.”
“By the way, you always get naked when you’re drunk. It’s why Dan carted you home from my bridal shower.”
“I did not!”
“Yeah, you did. I redressed you.”
“You did?”
“Dan didn’t exactly want to take you home naked. I figured you wouldn’t want anybody else helping you back into your clothes and since Dan was several minutes away, I decided to dress you myself.”
“Well damn,” she said. She could fully understand why we kept telling her not to drink so much.
I hung up the phone and looked up at Alex. “Road trip?” He smiled at me. I realized he had calmed down enough to talk to me without being angry.
“I’d follow you anywhere,” he grinned. It was a devilish grin. I knew where it was leading, but I pretended as if I didn’t. “Since we’re going to be having sex so often for the rest of our lives then I think it’s best I keep right on your heals. You know, be ready at any moment.” He laughed and I realized he wasn’t scared about the “rest of life” comment, and he had a sense of humor about my temporary potty mouth.
So that moment I mentioned earlier, that was it. Today was the turning point in my war on cheating husbands. I had to make the ultimate decision, and I decided to be the adult no matter what happens. I do not have any intention of correcting past errors in judgment, but I won’t, in anyway, sabotage Brendon’s marriage to Allison. I will give them all the professionalism I would give any other bride and groom.
Now that you know the history of Anise and Brendon Meyers, maybe we can move forward. I still have several weddings to plan, including Brendon and Allison’s wedding.
Confessions
I had a huge argument with my ex and a borderline blowout with my current; and my current is still here. At the end of the day all I can say is “what a weekend”. Alex pulls me into his arms and holds me. I’m thinking this is good—very good, and comfortable too. I settle against him a little more, and let my arm drape around him. He kisses my forehead so sweet and soft that I can’t help but cry. I know this is crazy, but tears start streaming out the corner of my eyes.
“It’s okay. You’ve had a long day.”
“You’re so sweet to me. I just can’t believe I have you in my life, and I’m so happy.” At this point I’m nearly sobbing.
“I’m glad I have you in my life,” he pulls me closer. “Actually, I’m glad you didn’t give up on North Point because if you had we might not have ever actually met.”
I can hear the smile in his voice, so I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and look up at him. He’s definitely smiling. He’s nearly laughing, and I wonder if he’s remembering my crawling around on the floor routine.
“I thought you were going to scale the wall after the last time you were escorted out.” He laughed, and this is how I know that he’s making fun.
“Don’t make fun.” I try to be serious, but even I can hear the laughter in my own voice.
“Are you kidding me? I watched you every time you came into North Point. Security has great monitors. After the last time I told them to call me if they spotted you. Lucky for you they listen to me more than Eric.”
“You rat!”
“I saw it all Anise. You gave Eric a run for his money. On your last visit I thought I should actually come down and greet you before you got caught by somebody else.”
I laugh because I realize how crazy I must have looked. Most people probably would have resorted to phone calls in an attempt to make contact, I resorted to a little breaking and entering—for the record I didn’t break anything.
“You know,” I look up and he is
grinning. I wonder what’s prompting that grin. “You’ve got the cutest ass. All the guys in security think so. I had a hard time keeping a straight face when I had to tell them how wrong they were to watch your butt up in the air as you crawled down the hall to the elevators.”
“Well, what can I say? I’d do anything to ensure the perfect Tiffany Wedding,” I mock in Shelly’s tone, which of course he has no clue because he hasn’t talked to Shelly. He laughs anyway.
“If I had known that I might have tried to get in your pants the first day.”
I slap him playfully. “Almost anything.” He laughs again. “I wouldn’t have let you in my pants on the first day. I didn’t know you well enough.” My first impression of Alex was less than flattering.
“And now?” His voice was low and sultry. It’s hard to think when he talks to me like that.
“Now, every time you leave I feel this sudden loss. I want you back in my arms each time. I can’t wait until the end of the day so I can see you again. It’s as if I’m craving you.” Craving, addicted, and whatever else described it, but I definitely feel as if I want forever with this man.
“Then maybe we should satisfy our craving.” In a millisecond he’s back on top of me, resting between my legs and slowly entering me with such ease that I want to cry all over again.
Monday morning, and two hours before I need to be at work, I don’t want to pull myself from the bed. I look out the bedroom door thinking of how much I really should get up and make the long walk to the shower. It’s not really that long of a walk. It’s really just outside the door. I feel Alex stroking my back and I know if I stay here one more moment I’ll never get out of bed.
“Good morning.” I pull myself up and decide it best if I head to the shower right now. I have that morning taste in my mouth so I decide brushing my teeth first is better.
I step into the shower. I’m glad I bought that massaging water head even though my mom swore to me a shower head was a shower head and there was no need to buy the more expensive one when I could get the same product for cheaper.
The shower curtain pulls back and Alex is standing in front of me. I’m hoping he brushed his teeth too. He steps in and I realize that he’s missed me those few minutes I’ve been gone, and that when I left the bed he was actually ready for something more. He pulls me in and his breath is mint fresh. If I don’t put down some ground rules I’m going to be late for work.
I push him back just enough to state my case. He apparently isn’t willing to listen because he picks me up and braces me against the wall with his body. My brain and my legs are not working in sync. My legs instinctually wrap around his waist, and I forget why I pushed him away in the first place.
Oh wait, now I remember. “Alex stop. I have to go to work,” I say this in the most motherly voice that I can. Alex isn’t listening. “Alex,” I slip my hands through his hair and pull his head away from my neck. “I really have to get ready for work and you’re not helping me here.”
“Sure I am,” he mumbles and then dips his hand lower which of course makes me react by letting go of his hair and rocking against his hand. I’m so going to have to set down some ground rules…maybe later.
I manage to make it to work with a few minutes to spare. Today is host to our usual Monday morning Tiffany staff meeting and I don’t want to be late. I bypass my office, avoiding my perky assistant, and head straight for the conference room. When I get there I see there are only two spaces left. Sitting next to Shelly is not exactly where I want to be. Then again, next to Donna isn’t ideal either.
I stand there weighing my options when I decide that I would rather be next to Shelly than next to Donna. I fear Donna will read my notes, and try to steal my ideas. Or worse, she’ll try to steal one of my clients again. I opt for being within the reach of the woman who tends to pet me like a poodle. At least my hair isn’t at its best today so there’s no need for me to worry about her messing it up. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not bad; it’s just not good either. Thanks to the Arizona heat my hair dried practically as I walked out the door, but thanks to my genetics, it dried wavy at the roots and spiraled at the ends so I have a Diana Ross look—without the poof.
“Sexy,” Paul says.
I realize that he’s talking about my hair. I smile and say thank you. I’m not sure that was the PC thing for him to say, but I’ll take the compliment and move on. Paul will not let it drop so I hear for the next couple minutes that it’s a good look on me. I have been told that before, and occasionally I go for the look, but mostly I like it straight. I usually take the time to blow it out and flat iron it. This morning I was busy with other things and hair was not at the top of my list.
“Thanks,” I say again because I’m hoping he’ll drop the subject and move on.
“It does look nice,” Donna says. I manage to say thanks through gritted teeth, but I’m wondering what’s up her pitchfork. I have been guarding my clients like the Secret Service, so there’s no way she’s taken another one. Toni’s wedding, though flocked with problems, went off wonderfully in the end. As far as I know I have done nothing crazy. Donna’s compliment makes me feel a bit more, shall I say, paranoid.
“No really,” she says. “It looks nice.”
Now I’m really suspicious.
“If you’re into French poodles with fuzzy butts.”
“I like poodles,” Kelly says. Kelly is really nice. She’s also a bit of a flake, so she has no idea that Donna meant her words as an insult. I hide my annoyance with a casual glance at my notes.
“Why would you do your hair like that anyway?”
I contemplate not answering. “Well if you must know I was having sex with my boyfriend this morning and I didn’t have time to blow it dry.” I manage to shut Donna up and I can now focus on other things.
I never knew the world of bridal consultants could be so cut throat. Maybe it’s just a Tiffany thing, because from what I have read consultants help each other out—with the wedding that is, not out of their job.
I think it’s time I start being meaner. People have always told me that I didn’t have a mean bone in my body, but after telling Brendon off I have this distinct feeling that I am ready to take on the world. Well maybe not the world, but definitely Donna. It’s time to fight fire with a truckload of sand. Smother her tactics until she chokes on them—not literally choke of course.
I might need Megan’s help. I know she’s warned me that she’s not to be trusted. She has helped me out so far, and I really could use her help finding out what Donna is up to. Besides, she’s sticking to whoever happens to be in my office and currently that’s me. I would like to keep it that way, and I’m sure she would rather not work for Donna. I know this because I have seen the way she rolls her eyes whenever Donna approaches, or the little signs she makes behind her back. I have also seen it in the way she covered for me when I was kicked out of North Point.
Megan told Donna that I managed to get my foot in the door that time and that I would probably be meeting with the owner soon. I did not have a meeting with Alex at that time and she knew that, but instead of outing me and giving Donna more arrows for her fork, she covered for me. I thanked her and she dismissed me with her “well you’re still in the office,” statement.
There are times when one should know when to keep silent and when to speak. Fortunately for me, I have pretty much figured those times out. Right now would be case and point.
Shelly always rambles on about Tiffany etiquette. I think she does this knowing at some point we’ll actually forget that we can’t sleep with the bride or groom in one last hoorah before the big “plunge,” and she just wants to remind us. She seems to be looking in Paul’s direction, and I wonder if there’s some juice behind this lecture after all.
I sneak a glance at Paul. He looks undisturbed by this latest in the series of Tiffany lectures. I shift casually and lean in so I can pay more attention. For some reason when Shelly starts lecturing I tune out. I figure if I sit
in an attentive position then maybe I’ll actually keep listening.
“And that’s why I had to let go of one of our consultants.”
I had asked Megan what was going on following Shannon’s haste departure and even she didn’t know.
“Rekindling an old flame with someone that is getting ready to walk down the isle is unacceptable of a Tiffany consultant.”
I wonder why we are having this discussion so long after the fact. I try to stop the thoughts in my mind because Shelly’s lips are still moving which means I’m missing something important.
“You’ll probably read about it in the next issue of Valley Bridal magazine,” she massaged her temples again. She always does this when she’s looking for sympathy, but this time I’m actually feeling her pain. Tiffany’s is the crème de la crème of consulting firms. A scandal hasn’t happened here—ever actually.
“The Lang wedding was called off,” she says. I can only think of the fact that the perfect Tiffany Weddings’ record is gone. “Lacey and Shannon have,” she stops and takes in a deep breath. “They’ve moved in together.” That was Shelly’s delicate way of saying the bride to be left the groom to be for her female wedding consultant.
Shelly didn’t have any plans to say anything more. I could tell by the way she straightened up and pulled her check list in front of her. There weren’t any questions to be asked or answered. If we had question we would have to hold off until lunch; the staff lounge would be buzzing with the latest gossip.
Shelly has worked hard trying to take Tiffany’s to the top. In an onslaught of bridal agencies and free-standing bridal consultants this really isn’t the easiest business to be in. This might not destroy her, but it would certainly set her back. Shelly could handle it though. I’m sure of that because she’s a strong business woman, and reporters won’t stand a chance at unnerving her.
The Bride Wore Black Page 6
