The Groom

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height

The Groom

There was one simple answer. But if my mind had a search engine, and you looked up the word 'no', you'd get zero results. None. Nada. Yet, it was only a part of the problem.

"Nica, Will you please say yes?"

In the midst of opulent dining, serenaded by romantic classical music, I heard desperation in those words. I saw pleading blue eyes before me. The same blue eyes that I stared at and got lost in so many times. The azure blues I'd woken up to, kissed, adored. What more could I answer with but a simple 'yes'?

I nodded.

Jake jumped up with what I could only describe as pure elation, then he hugged me. "Thank you. Thank you, Nica."

And for that moment, in that tight hold, wrapped in warmth and heavenly scent I craved so much, my head swam in ecstasy and into a different future. The future that would be Me as Mrs. Jake Benjamin, correction, Dr. Mrs Jake Benjamin, much like what I had imagined many times before.

I was dreaming of grand ballrooms, french laces and uttering the words 'I do' to the man of my dreams, but was ripped back into reality when I heard him say, "Sandrine, will be so happy."

Jake let go of me, whipped out his cell phone and dialed his fiancée's number.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Gone was the wedding of my dreams--the ballroom and the lacesGone was the hope of being loved by Jake again.

Let me begin when it turned complicated: the groom, Jake, and I used to date, and not just grade-school, hand-holding, seven-minutes-in-heaven-closet-kissing kind of dating. We were inseparable for four wonderful months. I loved him and he loved me.

The night we met, Jake rescued me from an aging playboy aristocrat at a gallery event which I, and my friend and business partner, Chase--who was supposed to be looking out for me, but was apparently too busy getting squeezes from one of the servers in the back of the kitchen--planned and organized. Of course, I was used to advances from wealthy, ogling, aging men whenever we threw parties for the rich and famous. Most of them probably thought that being the event planner meant that I was also available for a quick romp in the coat room. I wasn't, but thought of it when I met Jake.

We did the typical 'I'm so sorry I'm late, dear, traffic was horrendous' act so that the aged ogler and butt-squeezer would leave me alone. Sparks flew all over the room when he grazed my cheek with his soft lips. We were too convincing and it worked. The geriatric casanova waltzed off, no doubt looking for his next young wife.

Jake and I spent most of the night chatting whenever I could--I had to be professional and kept in mind that I was still working that night, unlike Chase, but that was to be expected. At the end of the night, we were lip-locked in a cab heading to whosever apartment was closer.

He was such a beautiful man, inside and out, although Chase would disagree but you'd find out why in a minute. He was a doctor. A surgeon who was great with his hands. Sigh. He worked out five times a week which gave him the most unbelievable body in all of America.

He was also a philanthropist, having been born into a wealthy family, following through his mother's footsteps, he gave money unselfishly to each and every charity thrown at him. He was also the best lover I'd ever had, never selfish, always willing to give and give and give. Double sigh.

We spent every non-working moment together. Every time I woke up beside him, I stared at his beautiful face and wondered why he was with me, out of all the girls in San Fransisco, why had he chosen me... up until three months ago when he met Sandrine in a gala in Paris, the city of love. How could anyone compete with Paris?

When he came back from France, he was upbeat and upset at the same time. I had never seen him so happy and distraught. He had confessed that he met someone else, and although I was an extremely beautiful and caring and intelligent (his words, not mine) woman, Sandrine was out of this world (my words, not his). Although he cared deeply for me, he hadn't fallen madly in love with me... yet. But in one night, in a single moment, he had fallen for Sandrine.

Being the gentleman that he was, he didn't pursue their relationship further than a chit-chat the evening they met. He flew back the day after to talk to me and tell me about this woman who had swept him off his feet.

Three days ago, he proposed to her and she accepted. Who wouldn't? Jake Benjamin was the perfect man.

He, being the most honest person in the world, had told her about me and what I did for a living, and I was sure, had exaggerated about my talents in the planning profession. She, being smart and glamorous, thought it would be fantastic to have me plan their very large and very expensive wedding. I, being the idiot that I was, had just accepted.

I took a couple more detours after leaving the restaurant, excusing myself from Jake and his lovely phone conversation with his future wife, pretending to have some kind of work emerg. Why? Possibly to clear my head of what I'd just agreed to take on. Or jump off a bridge, nothing too high as to break my neck, but somewhere I could possibly break a femur. To feel a different kind of pain, other than the one wrenching my heart.

But my fear of heights won out, and as soon as I entered my office, Chase was on me.

"So, are you guys back together?" There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Her hands were clasped, her breath held.

Chase was an amazon fighter at one point in her life. She was tall, curvy, rough and sexy at the same time. She stood six inches taller than me and with teetering heels, almost doubled that. She also had a semi-permanent scowl on her face that scared off men, women, children and anybody who came near.

When she turned on her Texan charm (and retracted her fangs), she was a real Belle of the ball-- minus the blond curls -- and she was such a delight. Chase knew about almost everything in whatever she had interest in and the things she didn't know, she studied to almost an obsession.

We had been best friends since college. When I had the idea of opening my own event planning company, all I had to say was how high and she jumped right beside me. Nothing was impossible for her.

And in two seconds, she'd bitchslap me to oblivion.

I just shook my head as I walked to my desk.

"What! What do you mean?" Chase stood in front of my desk, both hands smacked on it.

"He asked...He's..." I couldn't even form the words properly. "He asked me to plan his wedding... to Sandrine."

Chase let out a loud laugh which had all our staff turning their heads towards my office. Once she managed to supress yet another guffaw, she said, wiping off tears from her eyes, "You're kidding. This is your idea of a joke."

I whispered, "no."

"Ah, shit." Chase slumped on the chair in front of me. I nodded in agreement. "So what are you going to do? Wait, you said no, right? Come on, he's your ex and she's the wildebeest who stole him from you. I mean, they haven't gone out for more than four months."

"Three." I corrected her.

"Three? Are you sure? Isn't that too short? That's gotta be too short. Three months?"

I sighed. "But that's Jake, when he's sure of something, he'll just go for it."

She scrunched up her face, and sat upright. "Well I thought he was sure with you."

"Yeah." I sighed again, pressing my face onto my upturned hand. "I thought so too."

"What are you going to tell him? Surely, he'd understand if you declined."

"Chase," I looked her straight in the eyes. "When have I ever said no to Jake?"

"Ah shit," She muttered again.

Of all those four months that Jake and I were together, staring straight into those glorious eyes, I had never said no to him, not even when he asked me to let him go the night he broke my heart.

****
A/N: Photo of Philippe Leblond as inspiration for Jake

You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net