InHap*pily Ever After

by Kim Desalvo

  Ryan’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he fished it out, checking the display. He saw Lexi’s name and let it go to voicemail. He’d call her later and tell her he was in a meeting about the project, or something, or maybe he’d wait as long as possible before telling her. He still wasn’t sure what the hell he was going to do.

  They each had one more drink, but neither of them was really enjoying the show as much as they should have been. Ryan made it an early night and called Lexi from the car.

  “Hey,” she said, “where are you? I’ve been trying to call you for hours!”

  “Sorry,” he answered. “I was in a big meeting, and I couldn’t get away.”

  “Did you pick up the invitations?”

  “No, I didn’t,” he said. “By the time I got out of work they were already closed. I’ll get them tomorrow.”

  “Oh, I’m dying to see them!” she said. “Are you sure you’ll be able to make it tomorrow?” Without waiting for an answer, she added, “If you can’t, let me know by four and I’ll just drive in.”

  “I’ll get there,” he said, “don’t worry.”

  “Hey, so anyway,” she said, changing the subject, “what are you doing right now? Want to meet me at the club for dinner? I was going to call Tia and see if she and Dylan wanted to join us.”

  “It’s almost seven,” he replied. “They’ve probably already eaten.” Shit, the last thing he wanted to do was hang out with them and compare wedding notes.

  “Well, I’ll call them and find out, then. You can meet me anyway, even if they don’t come.”

  He fumbled for another lie. “Not tonight Lex. Wes brought in some sandwiches during the meeting, so I’m not really hungry anyway. Plus, I have to go in early again tomorrow, so I’m just going to head home.”

  “Want some company?”

  “Tempting, but I’m really beat. I was late for this morning’s meeting after last night and I need to catch up on some sleep. I’ll just call you tomorrow, OK?”

  “Are you OK, Ryan?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I’m fine—just busy, is all. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “OK then,” she said, adding, “Love you.”

  “You too,” he answered, and ended the call.

  He was torn. He did love Lexi, but ever since the day he saw her in the arms of Dylan Miller, something had changed. Of course he was Tia’s fiancé now, and Lexi would never even consider it for that reason alone, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she was comparing him to Miller. Bitsy had called that one straight—how could he ever measure up? How could anyone? Ryan made a good living; it would be even better once he made partner; but would she always be wondering why she couldn’t travel the world, have designers make her clothes, wear a ridiculously huge diamond on her finger…would she always wish it was her that met Miller first?

  And now that Tia was planning to move to Colorado to live with him, would she be constantly wanting to make trips out there to visit her best friend? Would he be excluded from her life, or would he be constantly playing second fiddle to Mr. Celebrity while his own wife lived the life of the rich and famous riding on her best friend’s coattails? How would she feel about attending office parties when she could be at the Grammy’s or fucking movie premiers?

  As if in answer to his question, the sky suddenly opened up under a huge crash of thunder and huge, slushy raindrops began pelting his car like bullets. He went home and poured another beer, sinking into his recliner and closing his eyes.

  It had been a real shitty week, and Thursday was no exception. He was running out of time and excuses, and he had to make a decision real quick; he’d have to pick up the invitations by tomorrow at the latest, and he had to decide whether he was going to tell Lexi that they needed to postpone the wedding.

  Before noon, he’d gotten two more calls from clients of the firm who sat on the boards of charities that wanted him to get Dylan to appear at their events; or at least provide something autographed for their silent auctions. It got so that he cringed every time his phone rang, and he finally told his secretary to screen his calls and to tell anyone who was not one of his clients or a close personal friend that he was in a meeting.

  No matter how busy he tried to keep himself, however, it all kept scratching at the back of his brain, forcing his thoughts in directions he had no desire to go. He’d be studying a client file, and suddenly he’d be transported back to the night he stood quietly in the hallway of his apartment, eavesdropping on Lexi while she was on the phone. She’d never told him the whole story of how she first found out that her best friend was involved with a man she herself had fantasized about for years. She’d never mentioned to him how she’d been sitting in the front row at an Inhap concert, waiting for Tia to show up—how Dylan had come out to perform a song with the opening band and had looked straight at her, smiled, and tossed his head toward the back of the stage, presumably to let her know that Tia was there. Tia hadn’t told Dylan that she was keeping him a secret, and she hadn’t told Lexi the true identity of the man she’d met at the dumpy bar the night before, so Lexi thought it was an invitation—an indication that she’d be invited backstage.

  “You know I’d be all over that,” she’d told the caller. “No question! Yeah, Tia knows. She was standing backstage watching and saw the whole thing! She called my cell and when I told her I was going to cash in on my gimme, she just laughed at me and told me not to do anything to embarrass myself.” She giggled at something the caller said, and continued. “When she finally got to the seat, and Inhap came on, I told her she was on her own with her cowboy, because I was going backstage to make wicked love to the man…I know! He kept smiling down at us from that big stage, and started rocking the house—Tia kept it up and said that he was looking at her…” she paused and laughed again as she listened. “It wasn’t until the third song—when he dedicated the show to her, that I figured it out. I was in a state of complete shock.” She listened for a few minutes, while he stood frozen in the hallway, digesting this new information—choking on it, more specifically. “Yeah, but they’re so good together, really. He’s an amazing guy—easy to talk to, down to earth, fucking hilarious, and obviously gorgeous…she’s one lucky bitch, I’ll tell you that!”

  The conversation shifted, and Ryan snuck back into his office and sat in front of his computer, stupefied by what he’d heard. She would have gone through with it! After all they’d been through, despite the fact that she was engaged to him, she would have spent the night with Dylan Miller and not felt one single ounce of guilt or remorse about it. It was the one secret he knew about Lexi that he wouldn’t share, and it ate him up inside.

  Sure, he was her best friend’s fiancé, but you couldn’t turn off attraction. If Tia weren’t in the picture, would she still want him? The only conclusion he could come to was that she would, and it tied him in knots. As much as he hated to admit it, the man was blessed by the gods. The mirror would never be as kind to Ryan Stallworth as it was to Dylan Miller. He’d always be second best. Did she ever think of Dylan when she was with him? The thought made him sick in the pit of his stomach.

  His phone beeped, and he was jerked back to the present. He’d been staring at the client file for almost an hour while his mind wandered, and he had no clue why he had even pulled it out in the first place. It was obvious he wasn’t going to get any work done, so he decided to call it a day.

  He sat in his car and came to another realization. If he went through with this big lie, postponing their wedding because of an alleged big project that was going to take up all of his time, he was going to have to find something to do with that time. He didn’t need to actually stay at work; and wouldn’t want to. He certainly had no desire to fraternize with the custodial staff after hours, and he’d be bored out of his mind. He couldn’t go to the club, and his apartment was out of the question—Lexi had a key and could come and go as she pleased. He planned to stick to the story with everyone—Wes would be the only person who knew the
truth, and he had a wife and three kids at home—he wasn’t going to babysit Ryan for the next six months. He had to find a fucking hobby.

  For lack of a better idea, he found himself turning off on the exit that would take him to the printers, and the invitation samples he was supposed to pick up three days ago. He still had no idea what he would do—should he just go through with the July wedding, and deal with the repercussions of Miller’s enormous shadow, or follow through with the big project story? Jace was the only one he’d told, so he wasn’t yet in so deep that he couldn’t get out. He turned up the radio and pounded on the steering wheel—he didn’t know what the fuck to do, and he was really running out of time.

  The sign was like a beacon. Bright orange over lime green, it advertised a gym—called simply, Work Out, a couple miles before he’d arrive at the print shop. It boasted a 30 day free membership to new prospective clients, and additional signs around the building advertised a lap pool, racquetball, and a state-of-the-art weight room. Since he couldn’t legitimately work out at the club anymore, and was sorely lacking in his usual exercise routine, he swung into the parking lot to check it out. After the day he’d had, he could really use a chance to blow off some steam, and he always kept a gym bag in the back seat of his Mustang, just in case.

  The place looked decent—the front was covered in windows of wavy glass that allowed you to see silhouettes of people working out inside without giving too much away. It was unpretentious, and could be just what he needed to keep up the illusion that he was working on a big project without giving up his entire lifestyle. He could keep in shape and avoid his usual haunts, and Lexi would have no reason to venture into this part of town once he postponed the wedding.

  When he walked in, a good looking redhead at the counter welcomed him and offered him a tour. “We’ve got state of the art equipment, a lap pool, personal trainers, and a lounge,” she said, taking him on a quick run of the building. It wasn’t the country club, but it did have decent facilities and a hot blonde in a neon pink workout outfit that flashed him a smile as he wandered through. He decided to take them up on the thirty days, and went back to his car to get his gym bag. He changed into baggy shorts and a grey t, and wandered over to the area where he’d seen the blonde. She was just stepping off an elliptical, and preparing the settings on a treadmill as he walked up. She smiled again and tossed her head toward the adjoining equipment. “Care to join me for a little walk?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Sure,” he said, “where are you going?”

  “About three miles with a seventy percent incline; think you can handle it?” she said, stepping onto the equipment and starting her routine. He programed his treadmill accordingly, and climbed on, matching her stride for stride.

  “I haven’t seen you here before,” she said, barely breaking a sweat. “I’d remember.”

  “First day,” he replied with a smile. “I’m trying the 30-day deal to see if the place is a good fit.”

  “I’m Tiffany,” she smiled back, extending her hand across the gap between them.

  “Ryan,” he said, shaking her hand. “Ryan Stallworth.”

  “Wait a minute,” she said, the corners of her lips turning up slightly. “You wouldn’t happen to be an attorney, would you? Are you the Ryan Stallworth who works for Briggs and Patton?”

  Oh shit, he thought. Was there anyone in this damn city who didn’t know him now? He gave her a hard stare, but he didn’t see the doe-eyed look that usually preceded a question about Dylan Miller—she just looked open and curious. “That’s me,” he said cautiously.

  “Holy crap,” she said, smirking. “I know you! Or at least I know of you. I’m Tiffany Truitt.” When he raised his eyebrows, she continued. “Truitt Industries? I’ve seen your name of a lot of paperwork there—you’re one of our attorneys.”

  “Sure!” he said, “you guys keep us pretty busy.” When she raised her eyebrows back, he added, “That’s a good thing! For us, anyway.” He smiled, the first genuine smile he’d felt all week.

  “Yeah, whatever,” she smirked. “Anyway, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “And you,” he said, smiling back.

  “I think you’ll find this place is a good fit.”

  “It’s looking pretty good so far,” Ryan smiled.

  Chapter 27

  On Friday afternoon, Ryan still didn’t know what to do. He’d held Lexi off by telling her he had picked up the invitations, but had to work late and wouldn’t be able to see her until tomorrow. Which was now today. He cut out of work early, hoping to get some clarity before he had to face her. The damn gold box was staring at him from the passenger seat, and his head hurt just from looking at it. He tossed a jacket over it and stopped off at the club to work out with Tiffany again, but although he enjoyed her company, her obvious flirting, and that fact that she had no idea that he knew Dylan Miller, it was going to be a long six months if he went through with telling Lexi that they couldn’t get married in July. It was going to completely suck, if he were to be honest, and it was all because he didn’t want to get married on the heels of Tia and Dylan. He was having a hard time separating the parts of his life that weren’t jiving, and although he thought he’d figured it out as he went along, nothing was getting any clearer.

  “I’ll pick up some Chinese,” Lexi told him on the phone. “Pot stickers, vegetable kow and fried rice. Sound good?”

  “Sounds good,” he managed, without much conviction in his voice. He’d been working on how he’d break the “news” to her all week, but he was still deathly afraid to even broach the subject. Shit, he wondered for about the millionth time, should he just suck it up and go forward? He jumped in the shower and turned the water cold, hoping it would give him some much needed strength, but knowing that this was going to be one shitty night, regardless of the decision he made when he actually saw Lexi.

  She knocked on the door, unable to fumble for her keys with her wedding planning briefcase, her purse, and two Chinese take-out bags dangling from her arms. When he opened the door and looked at her, cloaked in shadow, he felt differently than he ever had before—for a second, she was a stranger to him. She leaned in and kissed him, and handed him the bags of food, smiling when she saw the invitation samples that sat on the table in the foyer. She tossed the rest of her bags carelessly on the kitchen table, and went straight for the gold box.

  “Oh my God, I just can’t wait!” she exclaimed, snatching it off the table and heading for the couch. “I mean, this is huge, right? Picking out our wedding invitations? We can eat after!”

  Ryan tried to swallow but found his throat had stopped functioning, and he was unable to say anything. He followed her to the couch as she pulled the samples from the box, spreading them over the coffee table. She stood back and studied the pile from a distance, pulling him over to stand beside her. “What do you think?” she asked, her head tilted in contemplation. “Anything jump out at you?”

  Fuck, he thought. He needed to do this thing right now. “Lexi, I need to…” he started, but she interrupted.

  “Oh!” she gasped. “Do you see it?” She darted back to the table and shook loose a sample printed on paper that could only be described as an explosion of blue, with tiny stars of white glitter, and fireworks of red, gold, and blue along the edges.

  “Oh my God, Ryan,” she said breathlessly. “This is the one!” She handed the sample to him, and he could only stare for a moment. “It’s got tiny fireworks on it! It’s perfect!”

  As she reached over to take it back, he put his hand over her wrist and guided her hand away, dropping the invitation back onto the pile. “Lexi, I need to talk to you about something important,” he croaked.

  “OK,” she said, cautiously. “Is it too much? Do you see one you like better?” It was hard not to notice the tension in him, and when she looked at his pained expression, she got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was impossible to ignore the distance that had come between them over the past couple weeks,
and she had grown suspicious about the extra meetings and vague explanations of why they couldn’t spend any time together; but she’d been wrapped up in her world too, balancing work with her own new “mini-celebrity,” as she called it. Plus, she’d been planning her own wedding as well as starting plans for Tia’s. She hadn’t thought much about it until now, and her mouth went dry as Ryan led her to the couch and sat down beside her. Something wasn’t right.

  She waited, looking at the top of his bowed head for what seemed like forever before she finally spoke. “What’s going on, Ryan?” she asked. “I know there’s something that’s bothering you. Spill it already,” she said gently.

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t know where to start,” he fumbled. “It’s kind of a ‘good news/bad news’ kind of thing, but …”

  She exhaled on a whisper. “Well, thank goodness there’s good news—start with that!” she said, relieved. “I was getting worried. You’ve been awfully busy lately. I’ve barely seen you all week.”

  “I know,” he said, bowing his head again. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew that the next words that came out of his mouth could change his world forever. “The thing is…” he paused, debating one last time about whether or not he’d go forward with the lie. Finally, he decided that he didn’t really have a choice. He swallowed and met her gaze. “Wes stopped in to talk to me on Wednesday, and told me that my partnership is looking really good. That’s why I’ve had so many meetings this week.”

  “Oh, Ry, that’s great!” she said, elated. “We need some wine, to celebrate!” She started to get up to grab a bottle, and he put his hand on her arm, looking into her eyes. She immediately sat back down. “Is that not the good news?” she asked.

  “That part is,” he said. “But he came to me in confidence, so this is between you and me, OK?”

  “Of course,” she said, confused. “But I’m not really following you. That isn’t usually the kind of news that has someone all upset.”