by Lucy Gage
I wandered away, the winding path filled with fragrant summer blooms and every color of the rainbow. The sun shone through weeping branches, the rays casting intricate shadows on the sidewalk. I smiled to myself, thinking of the day I would be getting married. Planning my big day with…shit. Norah.
We may look exactly alike, but we couldn’t be any more different if we tried. Where I love light, Norah craved dark. I loved sweet, and she’s most definitely salty. Even our taste in men was like night and day. I preferred them blonde with pale eyes and golden tans, a total Ken-doll in the flesh, while she preferred dark hair, dark eyes, and that olive skin that turns so brown in the summer months one couldn’t easily tell his ethnicity. Exotic gods and pretty boys. Night and day.
It didn’t stop there, though. Nope. The differences went on and on, which made life for our parents both easy and the most difficult job ever. Norah’s the typical nerd; into books and learning, where I spent most of my school days sucking face with whatever boy I fancied that week. I’d always looked forward to graduating school, marrying the perfect man and having about a dozen kids. I wanted to stay at home, cook fancy meals and drink wine with friends just for fun. Norah, on the other hand, repelled romance of any kind. The most anti-wedding, anti-love person out there.
But, there was no other option, I couldn’t choose anyone else when the one person who’d been there for me literally since birth was the one I wanted standing next to me when I vowed forever to the man of my dreams. It had to be my twin sister. No matter how opposite we were…
Thirteen months later…
“All right ladies, places! Places please!” The wedding coordinator fluttered about the room, pushing each of the bridesmaids into some sort of orderly line. Twelve women to be exact. Plus, me, which made thirteen. Why Talia decided on that number baffled me. There we were, Friday the thirteenth at one o’clock in the afternoon (thirteen hundred hours military time) with thirteen attendants, each carrying thirteen tulips. If there was a thirteenth month, no doubt Talia would’ve picked that too.
For whatever reason, she was stuck on that number. The one associated with horror movies and bad luck. It also happened to be the day she met, fell in love with, and celebrated every romantic milestone with the man she was about to continue that tradition with in just a few short moments. I couldn’t tell her it was also the same day I broke three bones, had my heart broken, and failed out of Grad school. It was just my luck that she chose me as her maid of honor. The opposite of her good fortune standing next to her on the most important day of her life.
I rolled my eyes and plastered on a smile for my best friend as I stepped in front of her at the end of the line. I turned my head and gave a thumbs up, followed by a quick ‘you’re beautiful’ to Talia, who stood tall with glassy eyes and soft pink-painted lips. Her arm was draped through her father’s, who looked as though he would burst into tears any second.
“Ready everyone, the music has started!” The coordinator held one handle of the church doors while an usher held the other, waiting for her signal. A snap of fingers and suddenly we were walking.
Please don’t trip. Please don’t trip. Please don’t…
My mantra repeated with every step down the aisle. It was inevitable, something horrible was bound to happen to me today. It had been too smooth, it was only a matter of time before my luck ran out.
“To the Bride & Groom!” I raised my glass high in the air, a smile of triumph and joy on my face. Everyone cheered and clinked their stemware as I took my seat next to Talia who immediately wrapped her slender arms around my neck.
“That was better than I could have ever imagined a Maid of Honor speech to be, I love you so much Nor!” She gushed, unshed tears glazed her bright blue eyes. “Thank you for being my maid of honor,” she let go, wiped her cheek, and smiled, “I told you this was the best day. There was no chance you’d have bad luck when it’s me you’re standing up for.” She leaned into me again, and I pushed back, both of us giggled over my silly superstition. “The night isn’t over, Talia…you never know, I could still end up face first in your five-tiered wedding cake!”
I spotted Phoebe across the room, waving like a lunatic at us with one hand, the other hand full of her dress and an empty wine glass. I sighed in relief that at least it was empty, and she wasn’t swishing cabernet all over her floor-length lavender gown. But, the way she was stumbling had me on my feet in attempt to keep her from landing on her face.
It happened in slow motion.
High heels, a sloppy drunk, and too much fabric had my sister toppling ass over face before I could reach her side. Her yelp was camouflaged by loud drum beats and guitar bass, but the crash couldn’t be mistaken for cymbals if we tried. I rushed to her side but was beaten to the line. Lying next to my twin, who was in complete hysterics, was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He looked slightly confused at first, his dark eyes dancing between the woman on the ground next to him, and a less than enthused mirror image above him. His eyes sparked with realization and his smile grew.
I quirked an eyebrow.
Bingo, genius. We’re twins.
I held out a hand to Phoebe who fumbled and flailed, all the while laughing as she attempted to get upright. The crowd started to gather, and I could feel my face reddening with embarrassment. The man on the floor made a smooth transition from flat on his back to arms loosely cuffed around tuxedo clad knees. He wore a smoldering gaze and a cheeky grin.
“You could help, you know.” I seethed, pulling on Phoebe’s arm.
“Hey, who’s still on the ground here?” He quipped back with a wink as he held out his hand for my assistance.
I placed my sister in a chair and turned back to dark and handsome…holy mother of— “whoa.” I squeaked. He was tall. Already standing and dusting himself off, a mass of black hair and just enough scruff on his face, the mystery man who broke my intoxicated sister’s fall stood well above my five-foot, eight-inch frame. His eyes were tigers-eye gold and brilliant white teeth shone behind bow-shaped lips spread in a wide, wicked smile.
“Hi.” He said casually, “She gonna be okay?” A slight head tilt brought me back to the land of the living.
I turned around to see my sister’s head resting on her arms atop the table. “Oh!” I knelt and rubbed her knee. “Phoeb’s? Sit up honey, let’s get you something to eat…and a bed.”
I looked up at the towering shadow, the light casted off his eyes which seemed to glow as he watched me care for my sister. I stood and blocked her from his view.
“She’ll be fine. Probably didn’t eat enough with all the excitement of today—she loves weddings.” I rambled, unable to bring myself to make eye contact.
He reached a single finger forward and lifted my chin. Our eyes met. “What about you?” His touch was warm, too warm. The shock of the contrast raised goosebumps on my skin and flushed my cheeks further.
I turned my face from his hold, “What about me what?” I asked, breathless.
“Do you like weddings?”
What an odd question to ask…
“I”—I stammered, trying to decide how to answer—if I should even bother with an answer at all— “that’s a silly question.” I opted for deflection and turned back toward Phoebe. She was staring.
Her eyes squinted, and she giggled, pointing at the man she knocked over, “You look like an exotic version of Bradley Cooper. Anyone ever tell you that?” She looked back at me, “Doesn’t he, Nor?” She leaned forward, her attempt to whisper lost about three drinks ago.
“He’s hot. And totally what you’d go for…if you ever went for it.” She laughed a little louder, and more people turned.
“Shhhh!” I cupped my hand over her mouth and smiled at the passersby. “You’ve embarrassed us enough for one night. We’re at my best friend’s wedding for goodness sake, not a bar downtown.” I grabbed her elbow and pulled her from the chair.
“Sorry, um…what was y
our name?” I asked Tall-Dark-and-Handsome.
“Brogen.”
“Oh, oh-kay. Well, thanks for breaking my sister’s fall, Brogen.” I started to move past him with Phoebe in tow.
A quick sidestep to the right and he moved with me instead of opposite. The other direction. Again.
“Wanna dance?” He joked but moved to the side.
“Or not.” He held his hand out for me to pass, and I did.
Quickly.
I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
“Let’s go drunk-turd.” Norah shook her head. “Thanks for once again being you.”
I laughed and then sobered a little. “Whataya mean by tha—?” Came my small reply.
“It means you’ve once again succeeded in embarrassing me in front of my friends and their family. I just can’t with you, Phoebe. You’re a grown-ass woman acting like a damn fool.” She started to rant, her voice growing as we made our way toward the parking lot. She looked around for the shuttle bus.
“Shit! My purse. Norah, my purse is still inside!” I whined as I tried to pry my arm from the iron grip she managed to maintain despite my unstable gait.
“Of course it is.” She mocked.
I met her stare with a plump pout, puppy-dog eyes, and crossed arms. I knew I was acting like a child, but I wasn’t going anywhere without the key to my room…which was inside my bag.
“Oh my gosh, ugh! I’ll get it, can you just wait here without falling over?” She fumed.
Simple nod.
She let me go and turned back toward the gardens when I heard a slight squeak of surprise. I chanced a peek behind me. A solid tower of muscle blocked her path.
Ooh, the dark hottie from inside.
This time, he wasn’t empty handed. He held out two small jeweled handbags.
“Looking for these?” Brogen’s smooth timbre vibrated through the air, warm and inviting. I saw my sister shiver. He affected her.
I smiled and leaned into the sounds of their voices as they traveled through the darkness.
“How did you—?” Norah’s clipped reply almost had me turning around.
“I never got your name.” He interrupted. “I mean, I could ask the Bride…”
“It’s Norah.” She sighed, and I knew she was smitten. Norah never sighed at anyone but me and usually it was because she’s annoyed. That one was different.
Breathy. Lustful. Sexy.
My cheeks rose in amusement while I continued to eavesdrop.
“Ah, it’s all clear to me now.” He taunted. “You must be the older sister.”
I resisted the urge to interject.
It’s only by two minutes. Sheesh.
The shuffling of ruffles and another sigh, “I guess you could say that,” Norah replied, “we are born on different days.” The smile in her voice was evident, no doubt taking pleasure in his confusion.
He didn’t skip a beat. “I’ve heard of that before. So, you’re the 11:59PM baby, while…”
“Phoebe was born at 12:01AM the next day.” She finished his sentence, and they both chuckled. It was seductive, and I almost felt guilty listening.
Almost.
“Where are you staying?” Came his next question.
“The Eisenhower. I’m just waiting on the shuttle to come back so I can put Phoebe on it.” Norah’s irritated tone was back. I crossed my arms and quit listening.
Whatever, I’m sorry I was having fun. Caught up in the romance of the day, the beautiful bride and her groom…
I dropped my head in my hand.
Shit.
I made a fool of myself inside. Too much wine, not enough sustenance. No wonder Norah was furious with me. I took her already uncomfortable situation and magnified it by being that girl.
Curiosity got the best of me, so I attuned myself toward the whisper of hushed voices, hoping to catch any glimpse from either Norah or her dark hottie that I wasn’t the topic of conversation inside the hall.
Please please please….
The shuttle pulled into the parking lot as I stood alone in the darkness.
“Norah, shuttle’s here!” I called over my shoulder, as it stopped in front of me and popped the door open.
The elderly gentleman tipped his cap, “Good evening, miss. Are you the only one?”
I climbed the steps into the cabin and nodded, “’fraid so.” Two rows of empty seats showed what a loser I was to be heading back to the hotel alone.
The door closed, and cool air blasted down the aisle, the sudden chill welcome on my wine-heated skin. I plopped down into the second row and laid across both seats. My head against the glass, I watched as we started to pull away. Suddenly a flash of blush pink bolted from the pathway.
“Wait! Wait!” A high-pitched voice pierced through the night.
It was Norah, holding both of our purses in one hand, and the bottom of her dress in the other. The abrupt stop had my body lurching forward, my hands pressed to back of the seat in front of me to keep from rolling off mine.
“Sorry, I didn’t see anyone else.” The driver apologized. “Is it just the two of you?”
Two?
“Yes. I mean…” There was a pause and hushed voices, then, “Yes. We’re both coming.” Norah responded with a little too much enthusiasm.
I smiled and peered over the seat. Sure enough, the dark hottie Norah was talking to was in fact following her onto our shuttle bus. I was quite certain he wasn’t staying at our hotel, until tonight.
I rose an eyebrow at Norah as she spotted me and tossed my handbag. “Here.” She slid into the seat in front of and opposite where I sprawled out and looked up expectantly at the man who followed her onto the bus.
He leaned down and whispered something in her ear and I watched on with equal parts excitement that my sister was affected by the guy and a touch of jealousy that it wasn’t me.
We once again rolled forward, the driver checked outside one last time before taking off toward the city.
Trading cement for shadowed tree lines and back again as we wound through the streets and onto the freeway. The gentle hum of artificial air and a diesel motor played like a lullaby as I let my eyelids fall.
The whoosh of air-brakes and car horns startled me awake, the hotel lights assaulted my too-light, too-tired irises. I lifted myself upright and looked around.
Dark hottie, Brogen, stood and offered a hand to my sister. Wordlessly, she accepted and together they stepped off the bus toward the lobby entrance. She never looked back.
I huffed and stood. “So much for watching out for me.” I mumbled under my breath along with a quick “thank you” to the driver as I followed.
By the time I climbed the lobby stairs, Norah was nowhere in sight. I pressed the button for the elevator and waited. Good thing we weren’t sharing a room, I wasn’t mentally prepared to witness my twin sister getting laid.
Thanks to me, my anti-love, anti-romance, sister was spending the evening in the company of her perfect match while I was alone, taking my drunk ass to bed. I supposed it was the best place for me, I couldn’t risk falling into anyone else tonight…
The door opened, and I shuffled forward, pressed the button to my floor and leaned against the wall. Arms crossed, eyes half-closed, and more tired than hungry, I couldn’t wait to feel the caress of soft sheets, down pillows, and the quiet darkness of my hotel room.
I didn’t even notice I wasn’t alone.
A warm palm pressed against my bare back as we headed toward the bar. Brogen had asked if we could get to know one another better over a night cap and that was exactly what I was doing. He wasn’t staying at this hotel, and I wasn’t sure what his plan was but as far as I was concerned, his situation hadn’t changed.
I wasn’t the girl you could pick up and take back to a secluded hotel, have wild passionate sex with and leave without saying goodbye. That title was reserved for Phoebe.
But for some reason, t
onight I was with the guy while she was headed to bed. Alone.
Part of me envied her. Peace and quiet, a little reflection, the bed all to herself. Sounded like heaven. But the other part, the raging hormones of a hot-blooded woman part, was just a tinge excited. There was this man, a gorgeous Greek-God of man who fell into my sister but for whatever reason was standing next to me.
Why me?
If men were driven by looks, what took his sights away from the one who literally fell into his lap to the woman who lost her cool and left her best friend’s wedding without even saying goodbye?
I shook my head in disappointment. Talia was probably so upset…
“What are you drinking, beautiful?” A voice like warm honey caressed my senses. I turned toward the sound and smiled.
“Whiskey Sour, please.” I replied.
He nodded and approached the bar, my woes forgotten for a moment as I admired the view. And what a sexy view it was. I licked my lips in anticipation, but of what I wasn’t sure.
Brogen turned and smiled.
Caught.
I blushed and looked away, but it was too late. I knew he saw me watching him, licking my lips like he was some tasty morsel I couldn’t wait to sink my teeth in to.
His stride was confident, borderline cocky, as he carried two tumblers back to where I waited. “Care to sit?” He handed me a glass.
“Sure.” I held up my glass, “Thank you.”
I lowered into the chair behind me, the plush red velvet enveloped me like an old friend. I pulled my feet underneath me, the skirt of my gown draped to the floor.
