by Maggie Marr
“How’s everything going for the launch tomorrow night?” Aubrey sat beside Gwen on the couch. She still hadn’t had the baby, despite the doctor ending her strict bed rest. She had just gone over the final guest list for Shelly’s bridal shower with Gwen.
Gwen’s stomach flipped. She hadn’t really discussed what had happened between her and Leo, not even with Aubrey. There’d been a kind of unfamiliar quiet tension between the two of them since that awkward Sunday dinner. So Aubrey was asking about a lot more with that one little question than just the party for Leo’s new app.
“We’re ready. The location and staff are all good to go, Nina is handling the food. I mean…everything looks great for tomorrow.”
Aubrey nodded. And waited, clearly expecting more. Finally, she prompted, “And?”
“And we’re not seeing each other anymore,” Gwen said.
“Gwen…I’m—” Aubrey started. Gwen couldn’t bear to see the pity on her friend’s face. She stood up abruptly.
“Okay, I should go. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night, right?”
“Right,” Aubrey said. She glanced up at Gwen. The muscles around her lips twitched, and her mouth half-opened, as though she wanted to say something. She paused. “Listen, I’m sorry.”
Gwen hesitated. She wanted to cut Aubrey off, avoid dredging up the hurt and embarrassment of recalling that difficult Sunday, a day that turned out to be pointless anyway. But hurting her friend in return by running away wouldn’t fix anything either.
“I…I should have been less judgmental and more supportive when you told me about Leo. I do want you to be happy, and if he makes you happy then that’s what I want for you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me and Leo anymore. We broke up. Actually, I don’t even know if I’d call it anything that dramatic. Let’s just say we decided that our future goals don’t align.”
Aubrey unconsciously reached for her belly, circling her palm over the baby bump.
“It’s like you said. I want marriage and kids and Leo doesn’t.” Gwen fought to keep the sadness from her voice. She wasn’t bitter. She was disappointed, and not even so much at Leo. She knew Leo and who he was, what he wanted out of life, well before she’d agreed to date him.
She’d also sworn to herself that she wouldn’t try to change him…so why the disappointment? Why the surprise? Because she’d felt a connection to him. She’d hoped that he’d want a different life because of her. That with her, he could see himself married and with a family. When she looked at it logically, though, even she could hardly imagine that version of Leo. He was the poster child for bachelorhood. Literally. And lucky her, she was planning the party.
“There was no yelling or tears, no name calling. We simply acknowledged that I want one thing and he wants another and neither one of us is willing to give up what we want.” Gwen dropped her gaze to her best friend’s baby bump. “I mean it’s fair, right? Very adult.”
“Very reasonable,” Aubrey agreed.
“Very reasonable,” Gwen echoed. She picked up her computer bag. So reasonable and yet, Gwen didn’t feel one bit reasonable. Reasonability had exited her life along with Leo, and his attention and his body and every bit of him that made her thrum with desire.
“I mean I feel a bit…” Embarrassed, she silently finished, but she couldn’t force herself to say the word aloud, “sorry for myself, and that I’m simply not fit to be around. Like I should go hide with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a book.” She couldn’t hide. Bridezillla Milan, had called an emergency meeting to discuss her current demands regarding her outrageously self-indulgent wedding.
“It’ll get better,” Aubrey offered. She looked concerned, as though she wished she could lift the hurt from Gwen. “I can understand wanting to have a pity party. I’ve thrown a few of those for myself.”
Heat flamed into Gwen’s cheeks. “It’s just—I knew, okay? I knew going in, and still—it’s so silly, right? That I could even think that I would change his mind.” She frowned, blinking rapidly to force back the prickling feeling behind her eyelids.
“Did you think you’d change his mind?”
“Not really…I mean…I’ve never really felt this way with anyone before. I think I couldn’t help but hope for something more.”
Aubrey reached out and clasped Gwen’s hand. “The right one, he’s out there. You’ll find him.”
Again the hot feeling of embarrassment and shame washed over her. Was she so shallow that she couldn’t feel complete without a man? But she did feel complete, and competent, and worthy, so it wasn’t that exactly. Then what was it?
“I know. It’s just, I let myself get attached and so did he. We both did. We agreed to explore our feelings…I wouldn’t go out with him otherwise. So maybe since he bent his rules for me while we dated, I thought maybe he might be capable of changing his vision for his future for me too.” She forced a smile to her face even while the tears she had been trying to suppress flooded her eyes. No, she wouldn’t cry. Not in front of Aubrey. Not in front of anyone. “We really had fun together.”
Aubrey nodded, her face sympathetic. Gwen could hardly bear having that look directed at her. She ran her fingertips under her eyes. Aubrey held out a tissue to her and Gwen grabbed it. “Enough. I’ll be okay. I have to be. I have bridezilla in a half an hour, and I’m really not sure if she actually loves her fiancé or just loves the idea of a wedding. I have to keep it together.”
Aubrey pursed her lips and looked at Gwen.
“What? What is it?”
“The launch party, tomorrow night—?”
Gwen’s heart pitter-pattered fast. She knew the question Aubrey couldn’t quite ask. Was she going to be able to handle seeing Leo? Everything had been finalized, she didn’t need to meet with Leo, all they had to get through was the actual event. “I’m doing it.” She looked at Aubrey directly, her gaze steady. “I have to.”
Aubrey nodded. “You’re a professional. This is your business, your career.”
Those things were true. And I need to appear unfazed. Strong. “And I’ll have Nina and Shelly and you, if that baby doesn’t arrive in the next twenty-four hours.”
“I wish she would arrive. I feel like a hippo out of water. Take a look at my cankles.” Aubrey lifted her leg. Gwen appraised it skeptically. Her ankles were swollen, but they weren’t that swollen.
“Just hold off until after the party,” Gwen teased. “Okay?”
“No. Way. She wants to head out, then let her,” Aubrey smiled. “Pun intended.” She pushed herself to her feet and pulled Gwen to her side in a pregnant lady hug. “You’ll let me know if you need anything? For tomorrow night or—” Her tone lowered to a warm murmur as she met Gwen’s eyes. “Or just to talk.”
Gwen nodded and wiped under her nose. Aubrey waddled beside Gwen toward the elevator.
“Thank you,” Gwen whispered, the waterworks threatening again. “I can’t…”
“You don’t have to,” Aubrey said. “You’re my very best friend, and nothing is going to change that.”
*
“Launch is looking good.” Todd pushed his glasses up his nose. “The app is available, we’ve got the online push as well as the promo and marketing going, plus the party. Man, this thing is going to shred the competition. And now we’ve got our poster boy back, right, Leo?”
“What?” Leo turned away from the window, where he’d been staring into space. Gwen. He was thinking about Gwen for what might be the millionth time today. “I never went anywhere.”
Todd flashed Ilko a look. “Right, I know. But come on, it was only a matter of time before you and the girl took things public and right now? Not such a good time for A Convenient Arrangement if our guy, our Mr. Bachelor, set in the bachelor lifestyle, decided to settle down with one woman, Right? I mean, you get what I’m saying.”
Leo did, even if he didn’t like Todd’s perspective on what had happened between him and Gwen. A Convenient Arrangement was a business investm
ent, a pretty hefty one for Travati Financial, and really their first foray into digital space. If the app launched well, they already had a dozen more ideas from Todd and Ilko that might work for TF.
Leo nodded, but didn’t answer. He’d feel like a fraud if he said anything. He wasn’t about to minimize his feelings for Gwen, because he did have feelings, very strong and unrelenting feelings, but he couldn’t give her what she wanted. In fact, he could nearly guarantee that he would never want what she did.
He had brothers who seemed to be pumping out kids at a pretty good rate. Hadn’t Anthony just said that he and Shelly wanted to start a family soon? So with all the new women in the Travati family and all the babies planned, he definitely didn’t feel any pressure to marry and breed and carry on the Travati name. So why was he even thinking about this? Because of Gwen. Gwen was different.
After a moment of silence, Ilko cleared her throat. “Okay. So you’ve got all you need. I guess the next time we see each other is tomorrow night at the event. Gwen is still handling all the details, right?”
Leo nodded. “She’s got everything set. You could touch base with our PR team. With our guest list, we’re guaranteed some good press from the event.”
“It’s good to know the right people,” Todd said and stood. He pulled his fingers through his beard. “Okay, man, see you tomorrow night. Official launch tomorrow. We’ll let you know the numbers as they come in.”
Leo nodded again. Todd and Ilko walked out his office. He sat behind his desk and turned to his computer. He had ton of work emails to answer and calls to make, and yet his thoughts were scattered. His focus had deserted him. These melancholy feelings wouldn’t go away. He and Gwen had made their mutual decision what? Only a couple weeks ago, and yet the intensity of the loss was like it had happened yesterday.
Of course he was scattered and unfocused. He’d been practically living with Gwen. Spending all his time with her for just over two months. The end of their relationship and her exit from his life left a huge gap. This was the exact reason why A Convenient Arrangement suited a busy executive. Why put up with this emotional detritus that wreaked havoc with work?
Because he loved her.
Love? Whether he loved Gwen or not didn’t matter. They wanted entirely different things from life. She wanted a passel of kids and a picket fence and he wanted…what the hell did he want? He wanted Gwen.
Enough. All he needed was time to readjust and get acclimated to being single again. The guy who lived for the convenient arrangement. In fact, maybe that very thing, a convenient arrangement, would help him get past the emptiness, even though the thought held no appeal. He clicked on an email from Mischa Galakanos, an heiress he’d met at Mesquale before the holidays. They’d both been there with other people, but Ishy’s thing was over and his thing was over and she was visiting New York for a couple weeks… Maybe if he acted like the guy he’d been, with a beautiful woman on his arm and a convenient arrangement, he’d get his mojo back. After all, he had an image to uphold.
*
“She stole my floral arrangements.” Milan stood in the middle of the living room at her parents’ Upper East Side condo, her stick-like arms crossed. The way she leaned forward reminded Gwen of a praying mantis. “My best friend, that bitch, stole my floral arrangements! What are you going to do about it?”
The housekeeper had scampered off like a rabbit chased by a hound as soon as she had shown Gwen in. Who could blame her, really? Milan was impossibly spoiled, with a mile-wide mean streak. When Milan was angry she might say anything, and usually that anything was most unkind.
“Milan, darling.” Mrs. Vanderpelk’s right eyelid twitched as though ticking off the seconds before her daughter exploded, blasting bits of perfect girl and silicone all over the Vanderpelks’ impeccably decorated home. “This is not the end of the world. Honestly, I never liked those floral arrangements. And I didn’t much like Lisbon, either.”
“What do you know, Mother? Pink peonies are the rage this season! They would have been imported, imported from a special grower in Argentina.” Milan pointed a bony, talon-like finger at her mother. “You let Lisbon come to that special meeting with Gwen, the one about the flowers.”
“Darling, if memory serves, you and Lisbon were running a bit late from your massage at—”
Milan tossed her mother a furious look. “Memory does not serve, Mother.” She darted her angry glare from Mrs. Vanderpelk to Gwen and back again. “Can you believe this? What a whore.” Milan put her hands on her boyishly slim hips and shook her head. “How did she even find the name of the grower? That’s what I want to know. We talked about the type of flower that day but not—” Milan’s eyes slitted, and she slowly turned as if a snake ready to strike. “Unless someone gave her the contact information for the South American grower?” Her accusing stare locked onto Gwen.
“One Google search and she could find the grower’s name.” Gwen walked toward the couch. She had zero patience for Milan’s antics today. Here was a woman handed everything, everything. A doting fiancé (which Gwen really couldn’t understand—Andrew seemed so normal and nice, and he was marrying this wackadoo?), parents who loved her, and a wedding that was a fairytale on acid. I mean really? Doves and white dancing horses? Gwen placed her computer on the coffee table in front of the couch and reached out for one of the butter cookies arranged in a perfect circle on a crystal dish, taking a bite. Certainly in this room, occupied by one gaunt waif and her nipped and tucked mother, Gwen would be the only person shoveling butter cookies into her mouth.
Gwen tucked her skirt to sit, but just before her behind hit the embroidered pillowtop sofa, Milan snapped, “Did you give Lisbon the grower’s name?”
“Me?” Gwen froze, her hand flying to her chest. Butter cookie crumbs dropped from her lips.
“Did she hire you to do her wedding?” Milan’s sharp, shrill tone felt like a slap against Gwen’s cheek.
“You know that I no longer do weddings. I’m doing yours as a favor to your godmother.”
“Some favor.” Milan rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “This is going to be the worst wedding ever.”
Gwen stiffened. Instead of lowering her butt to sit, she stood. Mrs. Vanderpelk’s lips thinned, and she looked at the giant diamond adorning her ring finger. Gwen felt a growing sense of calm sweep over her as she looked from mother to daughter. She didn’t need this abuse, she absolutely did not. Her patience for finding Argentinian peony growers, Russian horse dancers, Turkish dove trainers, British monkey peddlers—was this a wedding or an international zoo?—was exhausted. Yes, she had taken on planning Milan’s wedding as a favor, a favor to one of her first and favorite clients. But truly, really, she’d done her very best, gone above and beyond, but between the flood of texts, the miles-long emails, the middle-of-the-night interruptions and now this… Milan accusing her of wedding espionage? Well, Gwen was d-o-n-e, done.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Gwen straightened her spine and lifted her purse from the couch. “You have plenty of time before the wedding. I’ll send you a list of planners I know will do an amazing job for you.”
Milan whipped her head up. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “What?”
Of course, the Vanderpelk cherub had never been cut loose before. Who would ever do such a thing? Certainly not any party planner that Gwen knew…oh, right…Gwen was doing just that right now.
“You’re leaving?” Milan spat. “You’re quitting?”
Gwen picked up her computer from the table. “I think resigning is the appropriate term. I know you’ll be much happier with someone who specializes in weddings. It’s obvious you need a planner who can give you all their focus.” And probably their first-born.
“Mother,” Milan screeched, “stop her.” Her brows knit in a furious furrow. “You can’t do this, you can’t leave. What will people say? What will they think?”
“I suppose nothing if you don’t mention it.” And frankly, Gwen couldn’t car
e less about what anybody had to say. She was done being worried or concerned about everyone else’s opinion of her and her life.
“If you leave, you won’t have any more business once I tell people you abandoned us.” Her smirk sickened Gwen. Once upon a time a threat like that might have made her stop, turn, and suffer through working for this harpy for the next fourteen months, but not now, no way. Just no. Her business, her life, her mental well-being meant too much to her to waste one more minute of her precious life on this thankless she-devil.
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Gwen glanced at Mrs. Vanderpelk.The corners of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, as if to say, you go, girl. Gwen returned her attention to Milan. “I wish you every success, and I’m certain you and Andrew will have many blessed years together.” She nodded to Mrs. Vanderpelk and turned toward the door. “Best wishes and again, I’ll send you some names.”
With that, Gwen scurried down the hall toward the front door, making a break for freedom while she could. The shrieking began just as the housekeeper met Gwen at the door.
“Good job,” she whispered, opening the door. “Smart girl to leave this behind.”
Yes, Gwen felt like she was getting smarter and quicker at leaving things that didn’t suit her. Too bad there was one person who didn’t suit her that she still couldn’t quite leave behind.
Chapter 18
“Where should I stick the glow tubes?”
Gwen turned from speaking to one of the bartenders. They had been over the “Hard Core Exec” (bourbon neat with a slice of ginger), the “One-Nighter” (a concoction of Jameson and apple juice), and finally the “Mr. Convenient” (champagne over raspberries). Ben, her new assistant, stood behind her with a dozen long plastic tubes sticking out of one hand, all glowing different shades of neon. He held an entire case of the same tubes in his arms. Gwen knew exactly where she’d like to stick those tubes, but Leo wasn’t here yet. In less than twenty-four hours—okay, twenty-four hours plus two weeks—her emotions had ricocheted from weepy about their breakup to irritated with both Leo and herself, but a glow tube anal exam? Leo didn’t really deserve that…