by Brooke Moss
To my roomies’ credit, they never acknowledged the stark differences in our backgrounds. I didn’t have a mom and dad, just a grandma who worked very hard for every dime she had. After she died, they become my next-best-thing to family.
A spa attendant carries two tall flutes of champagne to us on a tray. I don’t decline despite my fading headache. We clink glasses, and sink back beneath the exquisite bubbles.
“So I hear my wedding is your consolation prize for losing your job,” Jess blurts out. “I think you should’ve told Ezra Brown to shove it up his ass years ago.”
I sigh deeply. “You’re probably right. But I don’t have a safety net. And, I’m not sure I can get another job quickly. Social media is one of those gigs where they like to hire kids right out of college. Ezra believes that’s where all the good ideas are coming from.”
“Ezra’s full of shit. You’re way overqualified. You were...wait...what was your major in college?”
“Journalism. I was going to be a foreign correspondent.”
“That’s right. You were going to write your way around the world.”
“Instead, I ended up writing my way into a windowless cubicle.”
“At least, you have a sense of humor about it,” she laughs. “I was pre-med. I was going to join Doctors without Borders and save babies in Africa with George Clooney. And, look at me now.”
“The world needs more interior designers,” I say with a straight face. Jess has always had a flair for design and color. “Especially in Chicago.”
We both giggle. The spa attendant brings another round of champagne. This time, I don’t hesitate when I reach for the tall glass.
“Why didn’t you go to medical school?” I ask.
“I failed biology.”
I nod. “That’ll do it.”
“Did you ever look for a job in journalism?”
“Yes, but after Grandma died, I needed a steady paycheck. I couldn’t afford to work my way up in the world of freelance journalism. So, I shifted into social media.”
“You got out of Brown & Fox just in the nick of time.” She smiles brightly. “Because, I couldn’t get married if one of my squad wasn’t here to represent.”
“I’m thrilled to be here. I can’t thank you guys enough for making it possible.
Where is your sister?” I ask, bracing myself for her arrival. “Is she joining us?
“She got an invitation to go golfing with the boys,” she giggles with a wicked smile. “I think my dad is taking pity on me.”
“So your bachelorette party is just the two of us?”
She slips deeper under the water. “Yep. That’s the point of eloping, isn’t it? No stress. Surrounded by the ones you love.” She pauses for a moment to reconsider. “Well, there are one or two relatives here that I truly can’t stand, but Dad says if there’s only one turd in the pool, then it’s a great party. And, I’m thrilled that I won’t have to endure all the pageantry that goes along with a country club gala thrown by my mom.”
“I didn’t know Bruce’s dad remarried.” I blurt.
She nods. “Last year. Or maybe the year before. I’m not completely sure. It seems like I’ve known Kai since he was a kid. He was a wild child when I first met him. But he’s grown up a lot. He’s much easier to tolerate without his thirty-person entourage.”
“He had a thirty-person entourage?”
She nods. “It was crazy. The truth is he’s not the total asshat he appears to be at first glance. He’s actually Bruce’s favorite sibling, even though they don’t see each other very often.”
“It’s really nice of him to let me stay in his spare room.”
“Kai is a good guy.” Jess suddenly sits up straight. “Speaking of which, I don’t want to be your pushy matchmaking friend, but...”
My body is tingling with anticipation. Or is it anxiety? I’m not sure.
“...There is a guy here for the wedding,” she explains. “Who I actually think you might really like. I haven’t mentioned you to him. I wanted to gauge your interest first.”
“I’m listening.” I’m initially disappointed she isn’t encouraging me to get closer to Kai, but then I tell myself to be realistic.
“He’s a professor,” Jess explains. “He teaches sociology at the University of Chicago. And he’s a brainiac, just like you.”
“I’m not a brainiac. I just like to read. A lot.” How smart can I be? I just lost my job.
“You’re super-smart. And you’re... Well, he’s a little rumpled and unkempt in an Indiana Jones kind of way.”
My Marion Ravenwood fantasy returns. I’m in a well-tailored suit and silk blouse arm-in-arm with a tall, faceless man getting off a plane in Cairo in search of antiquities. My body is a jangle of excitement.
“I’ll introduce you after the ceremony,” Jess enthuses. “Unless...are you seeing someone?”
“No. I haven’t dated in a long time.” I’ve been busy.
“If you’re not working crazy hours now, maybe you’ll go out more,” she suggests.
“Maybe.” I doubt it. I’ll have to work double-time to find a new job as soon as possible.
Twenty minutes later a secret panel opens along the side of the pool and a spa attendant appears.
“Just to let you know,” the spa attendant whispers loudly. “Your hair appointment starts in five minutes.”
Jess gets to her feet and wades to the side of the pool. “You’re coming with me, right?”
“I don’t think so...”
She cuts me off before I can decline. “You’re the only invited guest at my bachelorette party. And, I’m not ready for it to be over yet.”
How can I say no?
Jess and I are wrapped up in terrycloth robes and seated in front of a long wall of mirrors. The most patient hair stylist in the world is attempting to comb out my curls.
“When I finish,” she says. “Your hair is going to be gorgeous.”
“I’ve always been jealous of Vivienne’s hair,” Jess agrees. “Mostly because she doesn’t have to do anything to it to look glamorous.”
“Your hair always looks fantastic,” I say. It’s true. Her pixie cut is perfect on her.
“I’ve been growing it out.” She looks at herself critically in the mirror. “I’m afraid my sideburns are starting to look a little too ‘Seventies Elvis.’”
“Not a good look. For Elvis,” I agree. “You, on the other hand, look ah-mazing.”
Just then the floral crown Suzanne has ordered in lieu of a wedding bouquet arrives on a bed of turquoise tissue paper in a silver box. The hair stylist finishes blow-drying Jess’s hair. She set the mass of brightly colored flowers on her head to get a preview of coming attractions.
Jess’s big dark eyes find mine in the mirror. “What do you think?”
My eyes are rimmed with tears. “You look like a princess who just walked out of a tropical forest.” The flowers are perfect with her pixie cut and dark eyes. “You should have your own Disney movie.”
“You are the sweetest.” Jess gives me a sideways hug so she doesn’t mess up her hair or makeup. “I’ve got to go get dressed. The photographer’s going to be here in...fifteen minutes ago.”
“Do you need any help getting dressed?” I ask.
“No. It’s a simple dress. I’m not even carrying flowers. Just don’t forget to sign the marriage license at the end of this whole she-bang to make sure it’s official.”
“I’m your girl.”
That’s when I remember the package I’ve got in the pocket of my dress. I run over to the lockers and grab it before she leaves.
“Wait. These are for you to wear.” I hand my pearl earrings to Jess. “Your ‘something borrowed.’”
“Are these your grandma’s?”
I nod. “They’ve always been lucky. Pete and Suzi both wore them at their weddings.”
“Thank you. I’ll give them right back. So you’ll have them when you get married.”
“Don’t ho
ld your breath.”
“Keep your eyes open,” she teases. “You never know when you might meet Prince Charming.”
Jess leaves and I’m left alone with the makeup artist named Natalie. She catches my gaze in the mirror.
“What are you plans for makeup?” she asks.
“I’m going to paint on some concealer under my eyes. Brush on some lip-gloss. It’ll probably take less than five minutes. Et voilà...”
“Would you let me do your face? I just left retail and I need photos for my Instagram feed to get more bridal gigs.”
“Are you kidding me? I’d be thrilled and I can help you research some hash tags that will help find clients.”
“Seriously?”
I nod. “I’m a social media strategist. I just left the corporate world. And, I’m looking for freelance gigs, too.”
I sit back in the chair, trying to relax enough to let Natalie do her magic. I’ve never had a professional makeover. I’m hoping when she’s finished I’ll be ready to charm the pants off the professor Jess mentioned. Or Indiana Jones. Whoever finds me first.
“How do you want your eyes?” Natalie asks. “Smoky or Adele?”
“Adele.” I declare.
“She rocks a retro cat-eyed look that’s classic sixties. What color is your dress?” she asks.
“Gray silk with a lavender tulle underskirt.”
“Perfect.” Natalie nods with determination. “I know exactly what I’m going to do.”
My grandmother died a week before the last sorority formal of our senior year. She had been ill for a bit, and I had no plans to attend the dance. My friends insisted I had to be there with them, to celebrate together before we graduated and went our separate ways.
I didn’t have a date or a dress, but it didn’t matter. Suzi and Jess found a dress for me. And Petey arranged a hot date for me. I don’t even remember the guy’s name, but I’ve still got the dress. I keep it in a plastic bag in the back of my closet. Wearing it only for special occasions--it’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever owned: a simple tea-length gown with a deep scoop neck in a soft shade of gray.
“Since you’re in the bridal party, do want to wear a lei?” Natalie asks.
I frown. “I don’t think so.”
“How about a flower in your hair?” Natalie holds a purple orchid behind my ear. Our smiles meet in the mirror.
“Perfect,” I gush. I can’t believe the reflection in the mirror is my own. I’ve never looked this glamorous in my life. Natalie takes photos of my face from every angle she can imagine.
I email her the hash tags I’ve researched while I’ve been in the chair. We go over the best practices for using them. Then, I show her how to use a third-party app to schedule her posts.
“Here’s my email address.” I scribble my personal contact information on the back of one of my business cards, and press it into her hand as I’m leaving. “Keep in touch. Let me know how it goes. I want to know if the hash tags are successful or not. I may need to make some adjustments I’m always happy to help.”
Sprinting through the lobby, I spot a pair of rhinestone-encrusted flip-flops in the window of a high-end designer boutique. Perfect. They are exactly what Cinderella would wear in Maui. I hesitate for a moment before running in and buying them without looking at the price tag. Yep. I’m living dangerously.
Kai is in the shower when I slam through the door of the cottage at a trot. The musky scent, I’ve grown to identify with him, hangs in the air. I race into my room and pull on my dress. The silk feels sensuous on my skin. The cut falls down over my hips in a way that feels feminine and alluring.
“Vivienne,” Kai shouts from our shared sitting area. “We’ve got to go.”
I grab my cellphone and run out of my room, stopping in my tracks at my first sight of Kai Cooper. If I thought he looked good almost naked, it doesn’t even come close to describing what he looks like in a Tom Ford suit custom-tailored to fit the lines of his muscular build.
The dark stubble on his chin has been scraped clean. Which only serves to deepen the depth of the cleft in his chin. I’m so busy checking him out, I’m completely unaware he’s busy returning the favor.
“Wow,” he says with sincere admiration. “You look amazing. I’m going to be the envy of every guy at this ho-down.”
My heart skips a beat when he closes the gap between us and extends his elbow to me. Instinctively, I slip my hand through his arm so we can waltz off into the night together. At the last minute, I pull my hand back as if I’ve been bitten by a snake.
“What’s wrong?” Kai asks.
“I can’t go with you.” I say, closing my eyes with embarrassment.
“Why the hell not?” Kai asks.
“I’ve kind of got a date. Not a date-date. Not for reals, but there’s a man. Jess wants me to meet. He’s a professor of something—she thinks he’s my type.”
Kai rolls his eyes. “Jess is setting you up with Dean Ellington? She is not your friend.”
“What’s wrong with him?” I ask.
He makes a face as if he’s searching a list in his head. “For starters, he’s a skirt-chasing ego-maniac with a narcissistic disorder.”
“Don’t sugar-coat it, Kai. Tell me what you really think.” I use his words against him.
“I just did.”
I raise my eyebrows in skepticism. Jess wouldn’t set me up with an asshole, would she? “How bad can he be?”
Kai walks to the door and stops. “Okay. You know what. I’m going to let this guy dazzle you.” He does a little jazz-hands thing when he says ‘dazzle.’ “If he can sustain your interest for ten minutes,” he continues, “then so be it, but if he annoys you. Says something rude. Insulting. Or checks out another woman’s ass while he has your attention. Do not hesitate. Give me a sign, and I’ll be back.”
“What’s the signal?” I ask.
“Pardon me?” He turns around, looking so surprised I’m asking this particular question.
“If I need a rescue,” I say. “What do I do?”
“Put your hand up in the air.” He’s waving the surfer-dude sign over his head. His fingers curled into a salute with an extended thumb and pinkie.
“What is that?”
“It’s the Shaka, bro. It represents the ‘aloha spirit.’ Which I guess is something like gratitude, friendship, and solidarity.”
“Like we’re partners in crime?”
“Exactly.”
“So if I need you, I put my hand up in the air? Like that?” I do my best to imitate him.
Kai nods. “Yep. Say ‘aloha’ with your fingers.”
“In the middle of a wedding reception?” His you-know-you-love-my-bad-boy grin squeezes my heart. “But, I’ll look like a complete ass.”
“Not a complete ass, no,” he jokes. Then Kai walks out the door, leaving me on my own, just as I requested.
I’m immediately filled with regret.
CHAPTER 5
Jess strolls across the exquisitely landscaped grounds to a stained-glass chapel on her father’s arm. Since she isn’t carrying a traditional bouquet, someone has given her a tall flute filled with sparkling champagne. Her floral crown glows in the golden rays of the setting sun. With a wide, happy smile on her face and bare feet, she looks regal and elegant, like a Hawaiian princess.
No one would guess she’s on her way to get married if she wasn’t wearing a wedding dress. Her gown is simple perfection. Made of silk and completely backless, on anyone else it would look like a laundry sack, but on her it’s a happily-ever-after dream come true.
Kai and I stand shoulder-to-shoulder at the altar. I catch his Mom smiling deliriously at him. He winks in response. Bruce is fidgeting next to us, waiting for Jess to arrive. On her way up the aisle, Jess stops to greet her guests and hug close friends. I offer up a small prayer asking for just a thimble-full of her grace.
I glance up at Kai. He’s looking down at me through his lashes, looking sexy as hell in his bespoke suit
. If Ezra Brown could see me now, standing next to Kai Cooper in a wedding chapel on a cliff overlooking the ocean in Maui.
Oh, the irony.
Kai paid twenty-five bucks to become an ordained minister for twenty-four hours. He’s printed-out a template for a wedding ceremony. He’s holding the paper filled with the magic words to turn two separate people into one whole entity in his shaking hands. The corners of the paper have been dog-eared, and he’s made some illegible notes in blue ink in the margins. I try to sneak a peek, but I can’t read his terrible handwriting.
Jess winks at me as she loops her arm through Bruce’s elbow when she reaches the altar. He smiles tightly and takes a nervous breath. Then, he leans over to Jess.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers, just like Prince William did to Kate during their wedding ceremony in Westminster Abbey. His hushed words are like a starting pistol for my emotions. Immediately, tears fall from my eyes.
Kai glances over at me, as if asking for permission to begin. It’s the four of us now. We’re all partners in crime.
“Family and friends,” Kai intones with an air of solemnity. “We are gathered here today to marry this woman to this man...”
Speaking in front of a crowd of family and friends, Kai is easy and loose. He tells a sweet story about the first time Bruce introduced him to Jess. After everyone laughs, he begins the ceremonial part of the wedding. My mind wanders a bit as Jess and Bruce speak their vows to love one another until death.
I return to reality just in time to witness Jess and Bruce’s first kiss as husband and wife. Cue the waiters. Filing into the chapel, handing out champagne and sparkling cider as they slowly herd us out into the gardens. There’s another bride and groom waiting to be married in the chapel before the sunset fades.
I take a sip of champagne. Gah. It tastes like cardboard. And yet, it doesn’t prevent me from taking another sip and enjoying the bubbling effervescence on my tongue.
Outside of the reception area, Jess calls me over. She’s standing next to a man in a pair of khaki slacks and a Hawaiian print shirt. His face is unremarkable and so was his hair, which is non-existent except for a few baby-fine wisps on his pate.