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It can’t go that bad.
As Annie cast her gaze around the white-and-blue themed room, she braced herself for what was to come. Confrontation was her worst enemy, and she was about to go head-to-head with someone even sweet Kyla had admitted could be “a bit hard-headed”.
Grayson wasn’t making this any better. While he had shown up at the Hooters dinner looking somewhat presentable, now his mussed hair and crumpled t-shirt was making him look like he’d just rolled out of bed, which he probably had, seeing as it was 9 a.m.
The receptionist had plopped them in a corner before a whole clump of magazines with the promise that Mary-Kate would be out “shortly”.
Feeling Grayson’s eyes on her, Annie scowled. She’d known this slightly too-tight blouse and knee-length skirt had been a mistake. “What?”
“Just...”
“You thought the only things I had in my wardrobe were an endless supply of too-big grey sweats?”
He shrugged, “I guess, yeah.”
“Well, sorry to disappoint.”
Annie shifted, throwing her glance to the nearest magazine. Style & Home, why not. It would have to do for now, anyway. Looking over and continuing the conversation with Asshole was out of question. Especially not with him so close beside, with that look in his eyes that was as intimate as an actual stroke.
Heat flamed through her cheeks and she tore to a new page in the magazine, which displayed a living room styled in deep aquamarine and tan. It was a bit eclectic-looking, somewhere you could picture a well-to-do hippie settling down.
Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.
The guy was a tool. He had bad news written all over him. This arousal was just a natural reaction to it being so long since she’d been with someone, or that someone had even touch her in that way.
“Ms. Peters?”
Mary-Kate decided to show up. The woman with the dark, chin-length bob and square-framed glasses had a voice that was monotone and mannish, and a smile that was obligatory.
“Yes,” Annie said, extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to –”
Grayson stepped beside her. “I’m Grayson.”
Annie’s outstretched hand met thin air as Mary-Kate’s swivelled to meet his. “You’re the...”
“Best man.”
“And I’m the maid of honor,” Annie made sure to add.
Mary-Kate nodded, already turning away. “Just this way.”
They followed her into a room with white walls, white leather furniture, and black accents. It was a chic utilitarian room, where the slightest speck of dust would feel instinctive unease. Annie certainly did.
“You called to express uncertainty about the memo,” Mary-Kate said flatly. “But here’s the thing; having a dog deliver the rings is implausible at best, too much peach in the meal will turn off the guests, purple is not this year’s shade – blue is, and purple carnations are ok.” The woman bore her long, gleaming teeth into a smile. “Any questions?”
She said, it in a tone that almost sounded like a threat. Annie took a deep breath. Here goes.
“Yes,” Annie said. “Not questions, actually, but concerns. With so many of Kyla’s suggestions unheeded, I’m worried she’s not going to be happy with the result.”
More like crushed. Even months ago, Kyla had stayed up half the night telling Annie all her wedding ideas and how perfect the day was going to be.
“Your friend gave me her implicit trust that I knew what was best,” Mary-Kate adjusted the red-framed glasses on the tip of her nose. “Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think.”
Annie gaped at her. Was this woman for real?
She was about to snap. Yes, we’ve only been best friends since we were seven. Before she could say anything, Grayson cut in.
“C’mon, you don’t think a dog would be cute?” He let a lopsided smile fall on his face as he leaned in. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you don’t strike me as the dog type, more like the....” He let his eyes rove over her, too long, and then waved a hand as he pursed his lips. “Probably shouldn’t get into it.”
Mary-Kate pressed her cranberry-red lips together. When she spoke, her tone was decidedly less hostile. “Still, the fact remains...”
“I get it,” Grayson grinned. “You’ve got a lot of demanding clients, and only so much reality to give. The truth doesn’t always whet the appetite, but you’re the one who has to serve it in a way that’s doable. But look at you; you’re a good-looking woman who clearly knows her stuff. I’m sure if anyone can find a way, it’s you.”
Annie turned to gape at him. What the hell was he doing? They were supposed to be here for Kyla and Kyle, not so Grayson could get another number on his booty call list.
Mary-Kate, meanwhile, was craning her neck so ridiculously in a faux-stretch that it looked liable to snap.
“As for the peach dishes,” Annie continued. “Kyla said she only really wanted the peach pie and a few slivers of peach on top of the wedding cake. So I don’t see what the problem is.”
“Maybe I could see what I could do about the dog,” Mary-Kate said to Grayson, ignoring Annie completely.
Annie stood up. “You two have a productive meeting.”
She stalked out, half-wishing she’d blurted out, “You two deserve each other.”
What made her the maddest, though, was Grayson. Who did he think he was? Flirting with that evil bitch for his own slimy reasons.
In her car, she turned on the ignition and then sighed. An image of Kyla’s downcast face popped into her mind as she broke the news to her friend, as well as her own disappointment, “And you just left?” she told herself
She twisted off the ignition, glaring into the windshield. In the cramped L-shaped parking lot, there was just her Prius, Grayson’s Tesla, another Toyota, and a Porsche she would bet belonged to that bitchy wedding coordinator.
What was the point of staying? So that she could see Grayson march on out, already scanning his latest phone number acquisition, give her a little self-satisfied wave with a shit-eating smirk. Toodle-loo.
And yet, Annie couldn’t just leave without finding out whether the wedding coordinator really was rejecting practically all of Kyla’s wedding preferences. She’d even go back into that witch’s office, if it came to it. No way was she letting that black-haired Godzilla ruin what she and Kyla had been planning for over a decade.
Sitting there, Annie flipped through her Anna Karenina book, although her heart wasn’t in it. Anna was clearly destined for ruin, while she herself couldn’t stop, to her annoyance, from flicking her gaze up every minute or so to check if Grayson had come out.
When, finally, he strode into the parking lot, looking as self-satisfied as she’d expected, Annie got out of her car.
He smiled, “Imagine seeing you here.”
“Hope you enjoyed yourself,” she snapped.
“I did, thanks.”
“So glad,” She rolled her eyes.
He stared at her. “What’s your problem?”
“Oh, no problem.” She glared at him intently. “I mean, totally reasonable that you’d be more interested in flirting with the wedding coordinator than actually doing what we were there to do – sorting out our friends’ wedding.”
“Oh, didn’t I mention?” he smiled mildly. “Also got almost every one of your precious Kyla’s wishes approved – dog ring-bearer, peach pie and all.” His lower lip twitched. “All except for the blue theme, though Mary-Kate did agree to purple carnations at least.”
As Annie stared at him, dumbfounded, he grinned again, “Feel bad you left now?”
“No, I...” Annie struggled with her words after hearing this news.
It did make sense though, now that Annie thought about it. How, at the first sign of Mary-Kate’s hard-headedness, Grayson had jumped in, all smiley compliments and suave suggestions.
“Still, you didn’t have to...”
“Do it like that?” his dark brows rose. “What? I should’ve done it more like you, since you were doing so well?”
They glared at each other for a minute, before Annie turned away saying, “Whatever.”
As she walked back to her car, he called, “I do accept ‘thanks,’ you know.”
She slammed her door, “Goodbye, Grayson.”
Whether or not he responded, she couldn’t tell, since she’d immediately hit the gas and drove away. All the way back to her parents’ place, she drove fast, unsure what she was really escaping from, other than the sped-up beating of her heart.
