A Wedding Affair (The Wedding Affair)

by Lacey, S. L. A.

  “Tristan this is wonderful, everyone loves your cooking”

  “I know my dishes are tasty but you are by far the tastiest, most delectable dish I have ever had…can’t wait to dig in!” oh he is reading my mind.

  “Tristan you have a one track mind but I love you sexy imagination, Come let’s go” he grabs me in his arms and we head out, back into the real world.

  We both look harmonious, handsome man in killer-suit, sex-crazed girl in knock-out dress both wearing ridiculous grins. One last Hollywood kiss in the elevator.

  PING PING PING

  We part at the valet desk, he walks left to get his car, I take a right and go to work.

  “Aria!”

  I turn quickly as my hair flips around.

  “You’re killer in the dress!”

  I smile and watch him get into his Cadillac that is the same as mine, now he really is BATMAN, he’s got the damn bat-mobile and he fucked me like the DARK KNIGHT.

  Chapter 19

  COME RAIN OR COME SHINE

  When I make it to the store Oliver is doing a fitting, the dressing rooms are filled and a lot of the regulars are lingering at the bar when I make it over to them. I play bar tender and grab some ice and get down to Business as Usual.

  Reggie who is with the Cleveland Indians management and promotion department is here today, I made him a special tie for the arrival of his son, its baby-boy-blue with silver pinstripes, and on the back side of the point is the babies name and birthday. I love making ties.

  Mr. Brooks from the bank is here for his final fitting and approval for his daughter’s wedding which is in three weeks.

  Now please let’s not forget the ever present I.T. guys, they are like the arbitrage guys of the nineties maybe not as vulgar or arrogant, but oh so full of themselves, quite intelligent these pesky twenty-something guys, of course they are, they speak their own language, the bold in your face attitude is quite annoying at times, but they are my biggest shirt business, they don’t buy suits per se just the high end shirts and ties.

  My whole take on this business of ours is we work for men, we dress them, we cater to them, we can make them look like whatever they desire. I have a look for any reason, a suit for any season and we can dress you for any occasion, and as Oliver so eloquently put it, ‘if we you don’t see it we will make it for you’, that usually covers it for the moody customer and the indecisive ones. What I find very interesting is style, a lot of men have great style and it usually comes from attitude, stature and taste.

  Honestly, impeccable style the head turning kind that I get from my mature gentleman customers is beyond any I have ever seen. Older men wear it well, they are confident and mature and that to me is inner style, all I do is put a tie on it. My job can be challenging at times a lot of wit and banter keeps the day moving and the air light, but this is my life, I love what I do I wouldn’t have it any other way. Our goal is always to keep them smiling and knock their socks off while we sell them new ones.

  The afternoon is busy as I barely have the time to revel in my mid-morning antics. I have made three pots of coffee, ran out of ice and we need more Grey Goose. I really can’t complain we did gang busters a fifty thousand dollar day in this economy is a welcome sight in men’s suits and clothing. Looks like someone likes what we’re doing. Don’t mean to toot my own horn but..BEEP BEEP.

  It’s almost closing time and Oliver and I have been so busy that we hardly had the chance to sit and chat. Which is a good thing, shit I can’t go through the question and answer format this afternoon, I’m still reeling from my morning meeting with Mr. Bach and the way I feel I want to shout from the roof tops how happy I am but I can’t. I must keep this under wraps I don’t want Ian hurt and I don’t want the third degree or the forth degree from my friends I have to say that Erika was not too mad when I told her, but Sabrina will be the MOTHER of furry when she gets wind of this.

  She hates cheaters, from monopoly to politics she is a realist and detests the deceivers, the rogues and the double-dealing two timers as she has called them by name, which by the way she has called Tristan in the past as well.

  Oh boy do I share his title these days as I more than happily cheated on my fiancé with none other than the swindler of all times, the ne’er-do-well Tristan Bach. I am brought back from faraway thoughts by Oliver.

  “Aria the people at Tuesday Morning called they have your chair you ordered”

  “Thank you Oliver, I will take care of that” a smile crosses my face as I think to myself what a delicious way I have spent my Tuesday morning, briefly I wonder if that is why that store is named Tuesday Mornings? Is this what you are supposed to do on a Tuesday morning? Have illicit sex with an ex? And act like you got some outrageous deal on a discontinued china patterns? I don’t know, all of this is new to me, gosh who has answers to questions like this? Erika is my only lifeline to contact about anything sexual and I have a feeling if I go into too much detail she is going to go crazy-ape-shit-on-me.

  I get the thought out of my head as I finish all my work I need to get done and I head back to my office. I am sitting at my desk and I wonder what Tristan is doing right now, is he as distracted and sidetracked the way I am? Does his body crave mine the way I crave him?

  I wonder if love is the same for guys as it is for women, do they get all the classic symptoms that we get? You know, the can’t eat, can’t sleep, euphoria sensation? Although, I have a feeling that to them they attribute all of it to just sex. Mind-blowing, heart pounding, toe-curling sex, and I have to admit all of which I have never experienced until I spent the weekend at The Ritz with one Tristan Bach.

  A way word thought crosses my mind, maybe it’s The Ritz? Maybe that is why the sex is just so amazing? Maybe Tristan and I are just victims of illicit sex at The Ritz. All I know is I have never looked this amazing, my eyes are shinning, I have a glow that radiates and my delicious memories are the reason for my smile. I finish up my work and get everything done that was on my agenda before close of Business as Usual.

  I jump into the shower in my office; yes I have a shower in my office and a fireplace as well so deal with it. I have to wash all these men off of me before I see the one I am engaged to.

  I’m dressed, and looking every bit the professor’s fiancée in a cream Louie Vuitton wrap dress and matching shoes, lips pressed and out the door by seven, I get my car from the valet and head over to the faculty dinner at CWU.

  -------<>-------

  I park next to Ian’s car and I follow the procession of faculty heading to the mail faculty meeting room. The whole building is old, all dark hard wood floors; I stand at the entry and glance over the crowed room, wow the last time I saw this many teachers together was on a picket lines. They are all scattered in clusters, chatting over cocktails as a gentleman plays a grand piano in the middle of the room under that huge crystal chandelier. I spot Ian his back is to me and I would know him anywhere, what is the old saying ‘I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave’ yeah he looks that good and carries himself that well. I head over to him past the many of eyes ogling me as who the hell is she and I give them a run for their money as I walk over to Ian who is standing with two other gentlemen one in a cardigan and the other in jeans, wow am I over dressed for this, but looking at Ian in his olive suit and French vanilla shirt we complement one another.

  I nudge him at the waist. He turns and his smile is sweet and kind.

  He kisses my cheek sweetly

  “Hello sweetheart you look beautiful” he drapes his arm around me.

  “Hello Ian, so do you” as I touch his chest and his tie, we are all smiles as we emulate the perfect couple on display.

  “Dr. Chris Howard and Professor Robert Parker I would like you to meet my fiancée Aria Macy”

  I nod and shake their hands, and realize that I have not seen teachers in quite some time, I am so use to the image of the CEO’s the I.T. guys, the Bankers and Business men this should be interesting a different bread o
f men.

  “Hello there” I say shyly.

  The cardigan wearing Dr. is warm and inviting he is a doctor of psychiatry, while Professor Parker who went all out this evening in jeans that have seen better day is how can I put this…he is a pompous-ass, who is a math and physics geek enough said.

  Then all of a sudden Ian yells over to the left as we all turn and I am like oh no!

  “Hey Jean!” Every hair on the back of my neck stands up, I cannot believe what I am seeing, my old poetry teacher Professor Jean Bouchard! The guy who’s class I ditched because of his inappropriate attention to my details.

  I am at Ian’s left side, I see Jean and our eyes lock onto each other, he still has that devilish grin on his face that always made me feel nervous, it makes me just as nervous now as it did when I sat in his poetry class two years ago. He takes Ian’s our reached hand and he is eyeing me up, jeez that is rude and he is doing this in front of Ian.

  “Jean I would like you to meet my fiancée Aria Macy” he takes my hand and squeezes it as he cups it with the other, very touchy feely and I blush immediately; oh shit this is not good. He rubs his fingers over my knuckles as he caresses my hand and I really don’t want him doing this, so I pull away quickly and tug on my earring as if I have an itch. Yeah I bet he’s sure as hell would like to scratch it, he is arrogance personified.

  “Aria this is Professor Jean Bouchard, he is the literature and philosophy professor here at Case Western Reserve he is also going to sub for me while we are on our honeymoon” I try not to look at his piercing blue eyes they are quite captivating sometimes and make me nervous.

  “Hello nice to see you again Miss. Macy”

  “You know Aria? Oh wait it must be from Business as Usual?” Ian looks at me as I look up at him but Jean speaks first in his French accent that takes me back to hearing him in class.

  “Ah no, what is Business as Usual?” The French are now inquiring, proceed with caution.

  “That is my fiancée men’s clothing store she owns in Tower Centre”

  “How interesting I had no idea, you see Ian, Miss Macy was in one of my creative writing classes a few years ago, poetry wasn’t it?” He is looking at me with narrowed eyes and I have to say I think he might be shocked to see me because I left his class so abruptly and never went back, let’s just say that he was more interested in me then my writing, smiling softly as I look at him then Ian.

  “Yes I believe it was” as I now grab Ian’s hand and hold onto him for dear life, Ian drapes his arm back around me and I feel better.

  “Small world isn’t it” Ian says as I look up at Ian and think he doesn’t see that this man wants in my panties and you are being so cordial to him.

  “So you two are getting married?” Ok his glares at me are uncomfortable, and Ian doesn’t see this?

  “Yes this beautiful lady and I will be married next Saturday” Ian kisses my temple and I smile finally some sign that yes I am his, he is mine.

  “Congratulations to you both I wish you all the best” Jean says very coy and most definitely arrogant boarding on narcissistic, I glance at Jean and smile, gosh could this get anymore awkward.

  Ian and he begin chatting about the up and coming school year and the new changes that are to take place, all the while I am so uncomfortable, I look up at Ian who is taller than Jean, and just chatting away, Jean is wearing a grey suit and black tie, he has dark blue eye, brown pushed back hair he is clean shaven and about five six or so, what I remember most about him is the way he stood in class, he would cross his arms and every once in a while talk with his hands to infer his point but what I didn’t like was when he use to walk around the class and suddenly stop behind my desk and put his hands on my shoulders, he was always very friendly, over friendly if you ask me, but maybe that had to do with my poetry and I often thought that when I read these in class he was so enthralled in what I wrote that he was falling for me and that is how I became the object of his affliction, one day he asked me to stay after class and he commented on my writing then he got personal and asked about my situation and he tried to kiss me and I left his class, just walked out and never came back.

  “So, Miss. Macy I have not seen you in years?” I still love his accent it is romantic and I have to say back then when I was all enthralled in Tristan I could never see myself with this man. I didn’t even think he was attractive and now wow he is pretty easy on the eyes, a sexy smile, he dresses impeccable, I remember from his class how well traveled is and how he use to always smile at every poem we all read in his class. His eyes are captivating, they do sparkle on him…get a grip Macy jeez I got a fiancé a few weeks ago, I took a lover a few days ago and now my old French poetry teacher is regarding me fondly, what the hell is going on in my little corner of the world?”

  Ian looks down at me and I smile at some comment, I am like in need of a drink, where is the bar, and before we know it the room is quieted down and we take our seats.

  Ian and I are seated with the rest of the new kids on the block, we are also seated with Jean Bouchard as he is the head of Ian’s department, how lovely, I get to see him all night, oh thank God they pour the wine.

  I sip and relax at Ian’s side as Jean is sitting across from me to my left. We hear about the funding issues, the enrollment numbers and of course the curriculum, all very drab and boring I must say, but I am here to support Ian so I don’t mind.

  Ian holds my hand on his lap and I freak-out! ...oh no! ...wait a second he doesn’t do things like that! Than a thought, darn we could have had some fun, Ok so now I’m bored. Oh does Tristan got me trained or what?

  We get through the evening pretty well, the conversation is light and Ian is just wonderful, he is charming, charismatic and just delightful. I am sure I look as if I am enthralled because I can feel Jean’s stare on me the whole night, I take Ian’s hand and turn it to see the time on his watch, he looks at me strangely and he moves a curl behind my ear, thank goodness finally some show of affection, doesn’t he know that the Frenchmen is on the prowl, is eyeing me like I’m on Le menu!

  Jeez what is it with men these days I’ve gone for two years without a date, a wink or a smile, and now I got three guys in one day! I must not think about Tristan and the hot sex, no this is not the place for that, but if Tristan were here he would have definitely made French-toast out of the French baguettes who has been giving me serious fuck me eyes all night.

  I am brought back to this function by the announcement that Ian is introduced to say a few words. Ian stands and kisses me on the cheek, yeah thanks sweetheart I needed that. I applaud him as he stands and buttons his jacket as he proceeds to walks towards the podium. My eyes catch Jean as he is just sitting there regarding me with his salacious smile, he looks happy to see me, I’ll say, I’m sure he’d like to show me how happy he is.

  I shift so I can see Ian better he is the reason I am here in the first place, I listen as Ian gives a brief synapses of what he is going to accomplish this year in his course studies, as always he is mesmerizing, articulate and entertaining. I glance around the banquet hall and notice the ladies in the crowd are eyeing him, yeah he is a head turner and in his killer suit jacket matching trousers crisp French vanilla shirt and special tie, he looks the model teacher, well more model then teacher I dressed him quite well and my dress compliments his attire yes we do dress to impress.

  Ian’s is the classic public speaker, clearly captivating and yes a bit inspiring but always demanding attention, he gets his point across with sincere looks over the crowd, eye contact that lands on me, how sweet, he continues to work the crowd, pressing some points, as other comments are laced with humor and innuendo of course, I have to say he is impressive, inspiring and full of enthusiasm. Ian wraps it up with a polite joke that brings on a rousing roar of applause which beckons him as his ever present shy smile charms us all, he returns to my side gently taking my hand and squeezing it.

  I have never known Ian to be so shy but he is and it is cute on him, it ma
kes him adorable actually.

  A thought occurs to me, why are the two men who plague me so adorable in different ways? I know I have to stop with the comparisons, I have to get my head around this and make some final decisions and the glares from across the table have to stop.

  “Aria are you hungry?” He kisses my hand and dinner is served. Oh if he only knew what I was hungry for, but then again even I can’t control my appetite these days.

  Dinner is served to us in unison I am impressed how Ian’s colleagues regard him, very respectful and high praise, I do however notice that a lot of the female faculty are quite taken with Ian, how interesting, I wonder quickly what the protocol is for fraternizing with members of the faculty at this university as I look over at Jean who is speaking to one of the other dons, wonder who is his latest conquest.

  I don’t really think Ian notices the intentions of the female professors, the two female philosophy lecturers are overly friendly towards him and I am sitting right here, wow teachers are brazen aren’t they? Tristan is oblivious to it, which I think makes him ever more alluring to the female alums. I have to say cougars come in every walk of life in every career, the professor cougars are in a class all their own.

  The conversation flows, Ian and I have always attended functions together, so we always do this well, we have always kept one another company at events like this, I use to fly to New York and attend functions with him, sometimes it was the only time we’d see one another but that was years ago.

  We dine on so-so chicken, with a béarnaise sauce, a lovely potato gratin, wine that is less than sub-standard, but serves it purpose and calms my nerves. A thought maybe I should tell Tristan to get them as a client, they could use his expertise to stock their wine cellar, but hold the phone these chocolate-chip cookies are to die for. My gosh they are brilliant, chocolate chunk, they are huge and delectable, don’t they say chocolate is a substitute for sex? …hmm Speaking of substitutes, my eyes meet Mr. Jean Bouchard again who is going to sub for Ian while we are on our Honeymoon in Italy, he is still smiling and looking at me and I don’t know what his game is.