Three Girls And A Wedding

by Rachel Schurig

  “Things have been a bit rough,” I sighed. “There’s so much to do for Kiki’s wedding, I know I’m dropping the ball with the girls.” I sighed. “Honestly, they’re both pretty pissed at me.” I don’t know why I told him that—I hadn’t told anyone that. But it was true, and it felt really great to get it out there.

  Matt frowned. “I’m sure Kiki wouldn’t be happy if she knew she was taking you away from your best friends. Why don’t you ask her for a little more space?’

  I laughed bitterly. “It’s not about Kiki,” I told him. “It’s my job. If it got around that I wasn’t giving this my all, I could kiss my promotion goodbye. I’ll be stuck doing crappy birthday parties and bar mitzvahs for the rest of my life.”

  “You’ve been doing a wonderful job,” Matt said. “The Barkers are really pleased with you. I know they’ll be giving you a great review. I’m sure you could cool things off a little and still get by.”

  “It’s not about ‘getting by’,” I told him. He clearly didn’t get it. “There’s a ton of pressure coming from my bosses on this. Mr. Barker is the biggest client we’ve ever had. If everything isn’t completely perfect, I’m screwed. Not nice, not adequate—perfect.”

  “That sounds rough,” Matt said, wincing. “Makes me feel relived that I work for myself.”

  “You do?” I asked, surprised. When I heard Matt worked in construction I assumed that meant he worked for a construction company.

  Matt nodded. “I opened my own contracting firm two years ago. It’s been a bit rough getting if off the ground, but we’re doing pretty good now. Mr. Barker has helped a lot there, actually.”

  “Mr. Barker?” I asked.

  “Yeah, he’s thrown some work my way.” Matt smiled. “I wish I could tell you I was above taking help from the future in-laws, but I’m just not that noble.”

  I laughed—then yawned hugely. “Sorry,” I said, covering my mouth. “Haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

  Matt looked over at me, concern on his face. “Don’t overdo it, okay? I know this wedding’s important to you, but it is just work.”

  I smiled, thinking of what my mother would say to that comment.

  “Why don’t you rest a minute?” Matt said, leaning forward to switch the radio on, setting the volume very low. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

  There was work I could have been doing in the car. I had my iPhone with me and it was the perfect chance to fire off some e-mails. But I felt so relaxed, so comfortable. It had been weeks since I felt so little stress. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to close my eyes for a minute.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next thing I knew Matt was shaking me gently. “Jen,” he said, his voice low. “Wake up.”

  I blinked, feeling confused. Where was I?

  “Jen?”

  I opened my eyes fully and saw Matt’s face, very close to mine. My breath caught in my throat. I had forgotten how devastating he was up close like this. He quickly moved back and looked out the windshield, a slight grimace on his face. Geez, it wasn’t like I had morning breath; I’d been asleep for half an hour, tops.

  On the other hand, we had just had Middle Eastern food. Great, now he was repulsed by me.

  “Sorry,” I said, stretching. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” he said, his gaze still on the window. “I’m glad you got some rest. It sounded like you needed it.”

  “It was pretty nice,” I admitted, smiling. “Now if I could just get a few more hours like that I’d be all set.”

  Matt finally turned back to me and smiled. “Ready?”

  “Yeah,” I said, picking up my purse from the floor of the truck. “God, I hope these guys are good. I’m going to go into serious panic mode if we don’t end up with someone today.”

  “My fingers are crossed,” Matt said, opening his door. I followed suit and we walked into the banquet hall. A hostess met us at the door and led us into the ballroom, where a table was already set for us.

  She talked us through the menu, poured us some water, and headed to the kitchen to get our appetizers. “I have a good feeling about his place,” Matt said, smiling at me.

  “I like the positive vibe,” I said. “Let’s keep that going.”

  The hostess reappeared with several small plates on a tray. “Mmmm,” I said. “Smells good at any rate.”

  We sampled bruschetta, goat cheese dumplings, teriyaki beef skewers, dates stuffed with pine nuts and honey, basil leaves wrapped around tomatoes and mozzarella and, to Matt’s great delight, miniature gourmet hamburgers.

  “These are perfect!” he said enthusiastically. “Eric will love it!”

  “And they’re actually really good,” I agreed. “What is that, Swiss and mushrooms?”

  “Who cares, they’re sliders! Eric will be thrilled.”

  The hostess returned with a tasting menu of starters: assorted salads, a choice of three soups, shrimp and fried calamari. Matt wrinkled his nose at the calamari, but agreed the soup choices and salads would please his brother.

  I was excited for the entrees. This chef obviously knew what he was doing. The food was simple but executed perfectly. As the hostess brought out her tray, I knew we wouldn’t be disappointed.

  The chef had provided us three pastas, three fish courses, three beef entrees, and three poultry choices. Looking at the gorgeous food, I realized our biggest problem here might be making a choice.

  Matt looked up at me, an excited look on his face. “How should we do this?” he asked eagerly.

  I shrugged. “I say just start grabbing stuff that looks good to you.”

  It was the best meal that I’d had in a long time. Everything was flavored perfectly and cooked exactly as it should be.

  “Oh, Matt,” I said, closing my eyes. “You have to try this stuffed sole. It’s dripping in butter.”

  “Okay,” he said, spearing a bite from my plate. “But then you need to taste this beef tenderloin.”

  By the time we had sampled everything, I was stuffed. “Oh my God,” I moaned. “I’m so not going to be able to fit in my dress for the shower.”

  Matt snorted. “You could do with some more meat on you,” he said, looking down at my legs and making me blush.

  “So, what were your favorites?” I asked, looking at the empty plates.

  “It’ll be tough to narrow it down,” he said, rubbing his stomach.

  “We definitely need to have that tortellini,” I said, looking down at the card the hostess had provided with all the relevant information. “I’m positive that pasta was made from scratch. You just don’t get that kind of texture from a box.”

  “You know a lot about food,” Matt said, moving closer to me so he could see the card. “Information you picked up on the job?”

  “Oh no,” I told him happily. “I love cooking.”

  He laughed. “Seriously? I so cannot picture that.”

  “Why not?” I asked, offended.

  “You just seem…a little glam to be cooped up in a kitchen.”

  “I’m not glam!”

  “Jen, I would put fifty dollars down that everything you’re wearing right now is from a designer label.” I didn’t say anything. “Would I be correct?”

  “Maybe,” I said stiffly. He laughed. “But this is work! I don’t dress like this all the time.”

  “You dressed like this in New York.”

  “Yeah, and that was work too,” I said. “God, if you could have seen the stress I went through trying to make sure I was bringing the right stuff for that trip.”

  I felt a sense of disappointment. Was that why he didn’t like me? Did he think I was a snob?

  “Hey, sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you or anything.” He looked concerned. “It was a compliment actually. You’re sophisticated.”

  Hmm. It sure didn’t sound like a compliment.

  “Alright, paint a picture for me. Jen in the kitchen. What does she look like? What does she make?”


  I scowled at him. Was he making fun of me? “I usually wear yoga pants and a tee shirt,” I told him. “And what I make depends on what time of day it is.”

  “Okay, say, dinner. What does Jen Campbell, chef extraordinaire, make for dinner?”

  “Probably lasagna,” I said, relaxing a little bit. Maybe he really did just want to know. “That’s Ginny’s favorite. Or a roast, if it’s cooler weather. Annie likes fish so I might grill some salmon for her, or sear a nice piece of trout. Or make crab cakes. They both love crab cakes.”

  He looked at me, smiling. “You know what, I think I can picture it. Thank you.”

  Why did he have to look at me like that? His eyes were doing that melting thing again, his gaze insistent. It was like he was trying to see inside my head.

  Just as my face started to turn red, the chef came out to speak with us. I snapped back into business mode, relieved for the distraction. I explained to the chef what we were looking for. It was a big job—large guest list, multiple stations for the cocktail hour, a five course sit down menu for dinner. And it was short notice. But this guy wasn’t stupid; he fully understood what catering David Barker’s event could do for his career. He assured me they could handle it all, we did the money talk, and then set up a time for Kiki to come see him next week to confirm her menu choices.

  “You know,” Matt said, as we were walking back to his pick-up. “You’re a little scary when you get like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “When you go all no-nonsense businesswoman. It’s intimidating.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Men are such babies.”

  He said something else under his breath.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  He opened my door for me and paused, looking down at me. Finally, he looked away, his face red. “I said, it’s also kind of hot.”

  Color flooded my face, but I couldn’t respond because he was helping me up into my seat, shutting my door, and walking around to his side. I had no idea what to say to him, how to respond to that. Did he really mean it? If he did, why did he seem so uncomfortable? Why was he seem so set on disliking me?

  But when Matt got in the car, he seemed determined to ignore the moment. Instead of sitting in awkward silence, he kept up a steady stream of conversation all the way back to my office. He asked about the girls, how long I’d known them, what milestones Danny was reaching, where we all went to school. It was completely casual and pleasant.

  And completely fake.

  By the time he pulled up at the office, I felt worn out from so much politeness. “Thanks for doing this, Matt,” I told him.

  “No problem. I think Eric will be really happy with our choice.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure they both will. Well…I guess I should go. Um…thanks again.”

  “No problem,” he repeated, staring out his window, not meeting my eyes.

  I was down on the pavement, about the close the door, when he spoke again, his voice soft.

  “You take care of yourself, Jen.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‘Regardless of what other events you may feel are unnecessary, I do hope you’ll have a bachelorette party! These are a great chance for you to celebrate—not just a celebration of leaving your single status behind, but rather a celebration of the friendships you’ve cherished throughout those years. Your single girl relationships are precious and you should carry them into your married life. And there’s no better way to celebrate those girls than with a bachelorette party!’—The Bride’s Guide to a Fabulous Wedding!

  “Gin?” I called, knocking on the bathroom door. “You almost done?”

  “I can’t get this on right,” she grumbled from inside.

  “Can I come in?” I asked, looking at my watch. Our dinner reservations—step one in the Ginny McKensie bachelorette extravaganza—were scheduled for fifteen minutes. We needed to leave, soon.

  Ginny opened the door and I let out a low whistle. “Wow, babe,” I told her. “You look hot.” She was wearing a short black strapless dress that hugged her slim frame pretty tightly. Her brown hair was sleek and shiny, hanging straight down around her shoulders—the way she used to wear it before Danny was born and she began relying exclusively on hair ties.

  “This stupid eyelash is stuck,” she grumbled, peering at herself in the mirror. “Geez, it’s been way too long since I’ve done this!”

  “Well, you’ve had more important things on your mind for the last year and a half,” I told her, leaning in to pry the false lash from her eyelid. “There,” I said, readjusting it. “That’s better.”

  “Thanks, hon,” she said, standing up straight and checking her hair in the mirror.

  “You look perfect,” I told her. “Honestly.”

  “You’re not looking too bad yourself, Campbell,” she said, looking me over. I was wearing a purple baby doll dress that showed off quite a bit of leg, and the silver Manolos Kiki had given me.

  “We do what we can,” I told her. “Now come on, find your shoes. Annie’s already in the living room and the cab will be here any second.”

  Annie was waiting for us by the door. She was decked out in a retro-looking red flapper dress. She had her curly reddish-blond hair pulled back in a sleek chignon. It was a little quirky, but very Annie.

  “Well, this is the best the three of us have looked in a long time,” she said, looking us over. “It’s a shame I’m the only one not taken.”

  “I’m not taken!” I protested.

  “What about Jason?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

  “It’s just a couple dates,” I told her, feeling uncomfortable. “It’s not like a big deal.”

  “Mmmhmm,” she said, grabbing her purse and opening the front door. “A gorgeous guy who wears expensive suits and drives an Audi keeps taking you out. That sure sounds like ideal Jen Campbell dating material.”

  I didn’t respond. She had a point—Jason, from the exterior, looked like the ultimate power boyfriend, the epitome of all the guys I had ever dated. Successful, well-dressed, sophisticated. But I just couldn’t get around the fact that I felt nothing for him. Nada. No matter how many fancy restaurants he took me to, that ever-so-important issue could not be resolved.

  I hadn’t heard from Matt since the food tasting day. It had been more than a month, and I still thought of him way more than I should. I told myself over and over again that nothing could, or would, happen there. It was absolutely pointless to fall into fantasies about him when I should be working, pointless to imagine his eyes every night before falling asleep.

  Anyhow, I wasn’t going to think about him tonight. Tonight was girls’ night. Annie had planned it to the smallest detail (with little help from me). She had asked Ginny if we should get a big group together, but Gin said she wanted it to be just the three of us. I was fine with that. With everything that was happening, I missed them more than I could say.

  A cab was waiting for us outside to take us to Ginny’s favorite restaurant, Pronto. After that, we would be within walking (or stumbling) distance to several places where we could dance the night away.

  We settled into the cab and I closed my eyes for a moment. It had been a tough month, even tougher than the ones preceding it. I was now only two weeks away from Kiki’s wedding, which meant we were three weeks away from Ginny’s. I was fairly sure I had done everything I could to make both a success. I had booked all of Ginny’s vendors—the cake, the flowers, the DJ. A photographer friend of Josh was doing their pictures, the dress was fitted and perfect. There were a million last-minute things to do, but I knew I could handle them during the week after Kiki’s wedding was over.

  The Barker wedding was bearing down on me, and I was terrified. I knew we had things under control, knew that between Jason and myself it would be a smash. But I was still prone to waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, wondering what it was that I was forgetting.

  Tonight would be the last night of relaxation I would have for th
e next two weeks. I doubted I would see the girls much at all. Most of the out-of-town guests were going to start arriving in a week. There were hotel issues, transportation details to figure out, and welcome baskets to deal with. On the following Monday we were throwing a huge welcome bash for everyone. It would be the first in a week’s worth of events—tours of the city, trips to local attractions, meals at Mr. Barker’s many restaurants—that we were planning, all leading up to the rehearsal dinner and the wedding itself.

  I felt a dull ache begin to throb in my temple. It was a constant companion these days, that ache. I took a deep breath, desperately wishing I could clear my mind and enjoy the night with the girls.

  “You okay over there?” Ginny asked, nudging me.

  I smiled at her. “Yup. Little headache, no biggie. So, what were Josh and Danny gonna get up to tonight while you’re out club-hopping?”

  Ginny looked at me strangely. “Josh has his bachelor party tonight,” she told me. “Danny is with Beth for the night.”

  Oh, right. Beth was one of Ginny’s coworkers at the bookstore. She had probably told me these plans before. Over her shoulder, I saw Annie roll her eyes and turn away.

  “And Josh is…at the baseball game?” I asked, struggling to remember.

  “Hockey,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “And then the casino.”

  Shoot. I remembered now. Ginny and I’d had this conversation only last week. I think I was trying to answer some emails at the time, but I should have been paying better attention.

  The air in the cab was definitely getting thick with tension, but luckily we pulled up at the curb outside of the restaurant. I paid the driver, eager for the distraction, and we all walked in.

  Pronto was busy tonight. I began to feel my spirits rise; there was a buzz in the air, conversation all around us and the sounds of people enjoying their meals. I was going to have fun tonight—and make sure Ginny did, too.

  A waiter showed us to our table and I had to laugh. “Look familiar?” I asked.

  Ginny groaned. “Oh my God, that is so not a night I want to remember!”