But it wasn't the time to be worry about that now because in forty-five minutes I was supposed to be at the rehearsal dinner and I had to look my best. I combed my hair and pulled a too tight, black dress down over my body. It was about two sizes too small for me, and it made the tops of my breasts burst out of the top.
"Oh God," I said as I turned around to see what my bottom looked like in the dress. "It'll just have to do."
CHAPTER 9
AMY
Cassie and Daniel were having their rehearsal dinner and their wedding reception at the Mayfield Springs Resort. No surprise really, it was the only venue in town that would come close to the standard they'd expect in New York. And even then, I knew it would probably fall way short. My friend Jesse, the hotel manager, had told me that they'd brought in their own chef with their own menu, and the waiters didn't understand what half the food was. I could just imagine.
As I pulled into the parking lot in my beaten-up car, I could see everyone mingling on the front steps. Great. I'd hoped to make a quiet entrance. Guess that wasn't going to happen.
Cassie waved frantically and screamed out my name, "Amy! Everyone - Amy's here. It's time for you all to meet the maid of honor. You'll love her," she shrieked as she ran down the stairs towards me.
I gave her a tight hug and kiss on the cheek. "You must be so excited. Your big day's almost here!"
"Daniel, come and meet Amy," she said, dragging her fiancé from his conversation over to join us. "Daniel, this is Amy, my bestest friend in the whole world. Amy meet Daniel - possibly the hottest guy I've ever met." Cassie giggled and smiled flirtatiously at him.
Daniel reached his hand out to shake mine, engaging me with a dark look that said I'd be best to keep my mouth shut. "Nice to meet you, Amy. I've heard do much about you, and I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. Maybe we can have a dance later on?"
Eugh! He was just something else. He couldn't even shake my hand in front of his fiancée without introducing some level of sexual innuendo. Cassie hadn't noticed though. She grabbed my arm and started leading me through the crowd to introduce me to her other bridesmaids.
The first thing that struck me about the bridesmaids was how impossibly glamorous they all were. Standing next to the NYC 'It' girls, I couldn't help but feel unsophisticated and out of place. They were the quintessential high school debutantes with their lithe limbs, thousand dollar dresses and bright, vibrant smiles, and then there was me. I felt completely out of my depth as I sat down at their table.
They were all gathered at one end like a gaggle of supermodel witches, worshipping at the coven of Dior and Chardonnay. If I were a more paranoid person, I would have assumed they were gossiping about me behind their raised, gel-manicured hands. Whispering to one another, they took the occasional, furtive glance in my direction as they flicked their long, blonde hair extensions.
I sipped on my drink and hoped I'd loosen up soon. It was going to be a long night.
Eventually, the girls pulled away from each other and looked at me in unison. It seemed they had a ring leader, a skinny blonde with crystal blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.
"So," she leaned forward across the table, "I'm Nicky, and you must be the maid of honor," she said, eyeing up my outfit, and focusing on my breasts.
"I am," I said proudly. "I'm Amy. I've known Cassie my whole life."
"Her whole life? Really?" Nicky turned to her friends. "Because she's like, never mentioned you before."
That hurt. That really hurt and Nicky knew it. She sat back in her seat with a smug expression on her face, pleased that she'd humiliated a small town, country girl.
"Well, she's never mentioned you either," I retorted. "It would seem that Cassie likes keeping secrets."
"Hmm..." she smiled falsely at me. "It would seem so."
The girl beside Nicky rolled her eyes at me as if she wanted to disassociate herself from Nicky's comments. She stood up out of her seat and came and joined me at the other end of the table.
"Amy, I'm Claudette, I'm pleased to meet you," she said holding out her hand towards me.
"Don't mind Nicky," she smiled. "She's a royal bitch sometimes."
"I can see that," I replied.
"Nicky's always been that way but... if it's any consolation, I know her husband's having an affair."
"Wow," I said as this information was thrust upon me out of the blue. "That's terrible."
"Not for him, it's not," she winked. "I honestly think Nicky knows, and that's why she's so jealous of how happy Cassie and Daniel are."
My God, who are these people? Is this what Cassie's marrying into, a life of superficial friendships and infidelity? Increasingly, I wasn't envious of Cassie at all. I was worried for her instead. The Cassie I knew wasn't one of these girls. She was every bit as beautiful as them but deep down she was a sweet girl who cared for people. One who used to raise money for the local cats and dogs shelter because she loved to see that animals were well fed and who used to volunteer in the local charity shop. I couldn't imagine these girls doing any of that. But maybe Cassie had changed more than I had realized?
Claudette wasn't finished telling me all her dirty secrets.
"You see that one there? Suzanne her name is," she pointed a sharp fingernail at another girl. "She's not so innocent either."
"Really," I said flatly, trying to make it as obvious as possible that I wasn't interested.
"Suzanne's just been promoted but it's because she's sleeping with her boss, and everyone knows it," she explained in her east coast, plummy drawl.
"So tell me," I asked, "Why does Nicky think she's so much better than everyone else?"
Claudette laughed, "You mean you don't know her? Everyone knows Nicky," Claudette hesitated as if to allow me a moment to correct myself and acknowledge that I really did know who Nicky was.
Claudette continued, "She's in the society pages, all the time, just like Cassandra."
Cassandra, the name seemed weird. So that's what Cassie's known as these days. Cassandra. I chewed the word over in my mind.
"I don't read the society pages," I told Claudette.
Her eyes opened wide as if I had just told her something totally unbelievable.
"Oh? So, what do you read then?"
"Books," I replied, looking her dead in the eye.
CHAPTER 10
AMY
The room was suddenly alive with shrieking bridesmaids and Claudette used the opportunity to move away from me to the other side of the table.
Nicky clapped her hands dramatically to her cheeks, "Oh my God! It's Chris Taylor!"
"Hi Chris!" another girl called to him waving her hand like a mad woman.
"Hey girls," Chris said casually walking past without even really looking at them before he sat down next to me.
"Hi Amy," he said, giving me a peck on the cheek. I felt as though I had a hundred burning eyes on me as the girls looked utterly infuriated at the attention I was getting.
"Fancy seeing you here," he winked.
"Very funny." I poured a glass of wine and pushed it towards him.
"You know," he leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear. "Last night was incredible. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about you all day."
I felt my heart race and my cheeks grow pink. Everyone was looking at us, wondering why the big star was talking to the boring waitress. And being the competitive bitches that they were, all of a sudden my end of the table was the center of attention and Chris was bombarded with questions from every direction.
"So Chris, what are filming right now?"
"Are you still single?"
"Is it true you were really born here?"
"Oh my God, I can't believe you're just you know, Cassandra's big brother. It's crazy."
The other bridesmaids were all trying desperately to get his attention, but after years of having women fall at his feet every day of his life, he dismissed them easily.
"Ladies, I
didn't come here to be interviewed," he said firmly. "If you don't mind, I was just catching up with an old friend here, and we were having a private conversation."
It was obvious the girls weren't used to being treated so dismissively, and they blushed as a group. I wasn't sure whether it was from embarrassment; anger at being ignored; or just plain old jealousy that Chris was talking to me.
"Ignore them, Amy," Chris said, once the group was out of earshot. "They're just rich little bitches who've done nothing but inherit their father's money."
For a moment there was silence as we lingered in each other's gaze. I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me but that would be impossible while we were sitting at a group dinner. Even so, the sexual tension between us was palpable. Chris parted his lips as if he was about to say something, but before he got the chance, someone began tapping their glass for silence. We turned to see Daniel standing at the head of the table, his ego reigning supreme over his wedding guest minions.
"Arrogant jerk," Chris mumbled under his breath. "I could have strangled him last night."
"Same," I leaned into him. "I would pay good money to slap him."
We shared a conspiratorial look before the groom began to talk.
"I just wanted to thank you all for being here," Daniel said, flashing his bleached white teeth in a luminous smile. "I've become acquainted with some of you already," he said looking directly down the table at me. I glared at him, and he looked away and turned to his future wife, sitting at the head of the table beside him. "And we can we all agree how beautiful my lovely bride-to-be is?"
There was a polite round of applause from the wedding party, now seated around the table. "These guys are about as much fun as a sack of potatoes," I whispered to Chris. "You're telling me. Society people are just the worst," he replied.
We looked at each other wryly in a moment of shared disdain for our company. After a few minutes of Daniel talking, mostly about himself, it was time for dinner. The waiters came out with giant plates filled with the tiniest portions of food. Little stacks of vegetables were cut into intricate designs and covered in minuscule droplets of a mysterious looking sauce.
"So... is everyone in New York starving all the time?" I asked everyone at the table, trying to make conversation.
No one answered. The other bridesmaids simpered and smiled their fakest smiles as they moved the food around their plate, leaving most of it uneaten.
It didn't bother me. If they didn't want to make conversation, then I'd just talk to Chris. I poured another glass of wine for Chris, and as he took it from me, he said, "Can I ask you something very personal?"
"I guess," I said hesitantly, not sure what was coming.
"You never told me you had a daughter."
Well, at least it was out in the open now, I thought with an inward sigh of relief.
"I never had the chance to tell you," I responded. "I mean seriously...you turned up at the diner out of the blue; then you arrived at my house at midnight. I couldn't exactly wake her up in the middle of the night and introduce you to her."
"I guess not," he shrugged. "I just wish I knew."
"Why? Would it have made a difference?" I genuinely wanted to know.
"No, I don't think so...It just came as a big surprise," he replied before asking, "So, are you still with her father?"
I was taken aback and nearly choked on my mouthful of food. I hadn't been prepared for Chris to ask me that question.
"Well, Mr. Chris, now you are getting a little too personal," I said jokingly. "But the answer is - no, I'm not. I'm not with anyone right now."
I thought he seemed to smile a little at that answer. Or did I imagine his smile because I so desperately wanted to be with him again?
"I'm pleased for you," he continued. He clearly thought about what he'd just said and how it could be interpreted. "Um. That didn't come out quite right. I didn't mean I was pleased you were single. I meant I'm pleased that you're a mother. I always thought I'd like to have kids one day."
I balled my fists up and dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand to make sure I didn't blurt out, She's yours! Chris, you're her father. I wanted to say it so much, wanted to yell it to the entire room, but I sat in silence and politely nodded.
"Thanks," I said calmly, while my knuckles were turning white beneath the table. "I'm sure you'll have children someday."
"I hope so." He drained his glass. "Have you got any photos?"
"Uh?"
"Of your daughter?"
I hesitated for a moment, terrified that if he saw her face, he'd know in an instant that he was looking into his own eyes. She looked so much like him, with her thick, silky, blonde hair and dazzling smile. But something made me take the risk. Pulling my phone out, I showed him my screensaver. It was Bella, just after a bath wrapped up in her favorite ducky towel. Her eyes shone brightly through the strands of wet hair that covered her face.
"Aaaaw, she's a real cutie," he said as he handed the phone back to me.
"Thanks, I think so too. Bella's the loveliest little girl."
"I can see that," he said. "She must take after you."
I looked away abashed.
"Erm... thanks. You should meet her sometime."
Oh God, why did I say that? What was I thinking?
Thankfully, Chris spied the waiters bringing out dessert and changed the subject. "I wondered what was taking so long. I'm still starving," he said looking over the top of the other guests' heads.
"I thought you were on a diet of raw vegetables and grass fed protein," I commented, feeling more confident after a couple of glasses of wine. I needed to be careful, if I had too much more, I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut.
"How do you know that? I didn't think you'd be one for watching my interviews," he asked.
"I watch you on TV all the time," I admitted casually.
Urgh, shut up Amy you idiot. He's just going to think you're just another starstruck fan.
"Well, that's kinda nice to know," he said.
"Really?"'
"Sure," he said placing an arm over the back of my chair. "It's nice to think that you were with me over the years of my career, in a way."
"Oh yay, dessert!" Claudette bounced up and down in her seat and clapped her hands like a three-year-old.
As it arrived at the table, I looked down on my plate. It looked nothing like any sweet treat I'd ever seen. It looked more like an assortment of weird nuts and brown stuff.
"Mmmmm..." Claudette tucked in. "It's raw chocolate," she said with the air of a chocolate connoisseur. "Definitely raw with cold pressed orange extract."
"Yes, I think so too," chimed in one of the other bridesmaids. "It's divine, and I love the hemp seeds and Medjool dates."
As the bridesmaids virtually orgasmed over their superfood dessert, I nibbled on the nuts and wondered what all the fuss was. I wanted a goddamn cheesecake, preferably with a lot of whipped cream on top, not some macrobiotic concoction invented for fussy New York pseudo-yogis.
I pushed my plate towards Chris. "You can have mine."
"Awesome," he said, tucking in. "I really shouldn't you know, but I'm off duty I guess. I'll hit the gym as soon as I'm home."
Of course, Chris would be leaving again. When I was with him, it was easy to forget that he wasn't going to stay in Mayfield Springs forever.
"When are you going home?" I asked, trying to sound as casually interested as possible.
"In a couple of days," he said, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Filming starts again on Thursday."
"Oh." Of course, he wouldn't be staying for long, and he wouldn't be interested in anything long-term with me. I had known that from the outset, but since last night a tiny piece of me had hoped that wouldn't be the case. I felt like crying as any dreams I'd had since the previous night of a reconciliation evaporated.
"And next month we're shooting in Australia, so I've got a long few weeks ahead of me making sure that everything we
need to shoot here is finished before we head to Oz."
"Yeah, sure. Of course," I said, acting as if talking about blockbuster movie schedules was the most normal thing in the world.
"So how's work with you?" Chris asked.
The question seemed almost like an insult as if he wasn't really interested in me and was just making polite conversation. Why did Chris ask me that? He knew how terrible it was working in the diner. He saw me in there last night, didn't he?
"It's ok," I said as I fiddled with my napkin. "Actually," I turned to him. "That's a lie. It's terrible; just really, really crap. It pays minimum wage, and I have to work my ass off just to be able to cover the basics for Bella and me." My voice rose in volume as I spoke and I noticed the girls at the other end of the table listening to me. I didn't care what they thought anymore; I was sure they thought I was a loser country bumpkin anyway, so I didn't stop talking. I just spoke louder.
"Yeah, that's right. Some of us have to work for a living. We can't just go to fancy parties and expect to have the world handed to us."
They exchanged pained looks between themselves as if I was a lunatic.
"Amy," Chris interrupted. "It's ok; you don't have to talk about work. We can talk about anything else. How's Bella? What's her favorite show on TV?"
"No," I said throwing my napkin on the table. "I want to talk about it. I work until late at night, six days a week and my sixty-year-old mom babysits for me. In fact, tonight and tomorrow night are the only nights I've had off for ages, and I had to get down and beg for those nights off. And I could only get them off on the condition that I pull a double shift next week. I get talked to like shit from just about every customer. If they're not rude, they're trying to get me into bed. But the worst thing about it is that Bella thinks I'm staying away from her on purpose. She doesn't understand that I work so many hours because I need to pay to look after her." I dropped my face into my hands and broke out into sobs.
Small Town Secret: Mayfield Springs Book 1 Page 5
