The Maid of Honor

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The Maid of Honor (or horror?)

Another few days passed since that meeting with Jake and that very awkward moment with Levi. I was making some finishing touches for a bar mitzvah for the weekend when Isobel, Jake's sister barged into my office, and stopped in front of my desk, hands on hips, Louboutin heel tapping on my office floor.

"Isobel! What are you doing here?" All the while thinking, 'Great another Benjamin off to boss me around'. I had Jake constantly calling, Sandrine's emails to go through every single hour, now the bratty little sister was in front of me, huffing and puffing.

"I need to talk to you." She turned around and slumped on the loveseat in my office.

I rolled my eyes. Isobel could be such a spoiled brat when people let her, and people often did. It was always easier to give her what she wanted, rather than deal with her mood.

I said to her sarcastically, "Sure, it's not like I'm busy." Sweeping my hands over the paperwork I had in front of me.

"Oh good." She said, exasperated, oblivious to my sarcasm and to the piles of paper on my desk. I just had a feeling that she didn't come for a social call, so I stood up and closed my office door.

"I'm the maid of honor, " she spat out, tilted her head on the back of the loveseat, and covered her face with her thin hands, probably feeling the world on her shoulders.

This was news to me, and being the wedding planner, I needed to know important details like this, but I kept quiet. There was no need for Isobel to run back to Jake and Sandrine telling them that I'd been slacking off, even if it was their omission.

"I'm glad it's you and not some hoity toity French maid." I said, with a saccharine smile on my face.

She smiled back at me as I sat beside her, and leaned her head on my shoulder. Isobel was an affectionate person, whether people thought it was fake or not; I still liked that about her. Although oftentimes, her affection was followed with a request that you just couldn't turn down even when you should.

"I don't like her." She pouted. Uh oh. "I don't like her and I don't want to be her stupid maid of honor. She's so pathetic! She doesn't even have friends to ask as her maid of honor?" She was on a roll. "And you should see the designs for the dresses! They're atrocious. Made my skin jump. I just hate her. She has no friends. She has no style. She's... she's... she's so French!" She finished, throwing her hands up as a sign of exasperation then crossing them over her chest.

I honestly couldn't agree to her thoughts of Sandrine. She definitely had style. She definitely was very French, and she worked it. I didn't know about her lack of friends, and since it had come from Isobel, it could be tainted idealism.

Rubbing her hot head, I tried to muster the energy to oppose Isobel. "You might not like her but she's still marrying your brother. We don't have a choice on Jake's preference to a wife."

Isobel straightened. "How can you say that?" She glared at me. "He should be marrying you." Uh oh again. "That French twit stole Jake from you."

I tutted at her choice of word for Sandrine, and worried that it hadn't been too long since I'd heard the same conversation from Chase. Neither one had said anything to me when Jake and I broke up. Chase had tried to set me up immediately, and Isobel... She had been out of the country. I was out of her sight and out of her mind.

"Again," I touched her arm smoothly to soothe her. "There isn't aything we can do about that. Sandrine is his choice."

"But there is something we can do. Something you can do!" This was not going anywhere good. "You can sabotage their wedding! It's perfect and they won't even find out until it's too late! Come on, Vero." She kept bouncing on the couch, her little butt making squishy sounds against the fabric. "We can do it together. I'll help you. They have so much trust in you. Really, they expect you to hand everything to them. She's not even in the country for most of the planning!"

"Stop, Isobel!" I held her wrists in my hands. She pouted again. Time for damage control.

"Isobel, Jake and I are over now. He picked Sandrine and like what you said, they have entrusted everything to me. I owe it to them, to Jake, if not as his friend, as a professional planner. This is my job, my career. This company is all I have. When they find out, and they will, that I was trying to sabotage their wedding, it will destroy me, you know that it will. It won't be good for you or me, or Chase, or my company and all the staff I have employed." I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get my mind steady. "You have to understand this, Isobel. My hands are tied. As much as I would like to be with Jake again, I... it's not going to happen."

It hurt to say it out loud, even to Isobel, but I was not the steal-your-man-behind-your-back type of girl. If Jake did want to come back, I wanted him to because he wanted me, because he loved me, and because he couldn't live his life without me. I should remember to say the same to Chase.

Isobel was quiet for a while, and I hoped that inside her pretty little head, she was trying to understand me. Then she opened her pink mouth.

"Don't worry, Vero. I got your back. I will make it happen." Her lips curled into a devious smile.

I realized that she only heard the last part of my remarks. Before I could say more, she gave me a kiss, a hug, then sashayed her way to the door.

"Isobel," I began my plea but her black pump Louboutins were already out the door.

Leaning my head against the back of the couch, I wondered whose bright idea it was to make her the maid of honor and why wasn't I told. After a few cleansing breaths, I got up to call Jake, while sending Sandrine an email.

Jake answered on the first ring.

"You guys forgot to mention that Isobel is the maid of honor." I bypassed the pleasantries.

"Hi to you too, Nica." He knew I was upset and I knew he was waiting for me to greet him back, but I had no energy for games.

When it was clear that I wasn't in the mood, he told me, "Sandrine and I just decided this morning when she flew in. We had breakfast with the family and she asked Isobel then." He paused and softened his voice. " I was just about to call you to see if you could hang out with us tonight. You know, dinner and maybe dancing?"

I had to look at my cellphone in disbelief. Did he really think it was going to be that easy for me? With Isobel barging in and suggesting ludicrous plans of sabotage, my head was reeling. What could be better than a date with my new favorite couple? But... but I could never say no to Jake, remember?

He knew it wasn't going to be easy for me and he knew that I still had feelings for him, surely he did. This was his way of making amends. Honestly. Jake was a peacemaker.

"Fine," I answered. "Dinner would be great but I'm not sure about the dancing. We have plenty of things to discuss, now that I finally can get the two of you together."

"Great. We'll send for a car at eight. See you soon, Nica."

I sighed a goodbye.

I organized my thoughts, finished sending my email to Sandrine-- just for safe measures --and went back to the bar mitzvah planning.

It hadn't taken long before the day was over, and the sun began to set. Chase popped in for a quickeroo, asking me about everything else but Jake and Sandrine's nuptials, to my surprise (and suspicions). I had informed her that I was heading out to meet clients for dinner, and she didn't ask with whom. We said our goodbyes and our 'see you tomorrow', and off we went in separate directions.

When I arrived at the restaurant, I was shocked to see the group that was waiting for me. I was expecting Jake and Sandrine naturally, but Isobel and Levi were also there. The more the merrier, but also, too many cooks.... I plastered a smile on my face. I'd only brought my iPad, thankfully, and not the bulky binder.

"There she is!" Isobel quipped as I neared the table. She jumped up to give me a tight hug. All traces of sabotage seemed to have relaxed, for now. "Remember, I've got your back." She whispered before letting me go. My breath faltered a bit but the smile kept on my face. So much for relaxed.

I received the very European two-cheek kiss from Sandrine and surprisingly, Jake, and an easy salute from Levi before I sat down as far away from him as I possibly could. He was dangerous waters. Dangerous waters in a white button down shirt and dark jeans, looking all mysterious and deep with aviators on.

"The whole party is here." Yeay, me and the impending doom having to deal with the four of them with the rest of the planning.

"Oh not quite yet. Landon and Trent are on their way." Jake said, more to everyone than directly to me. They were Jake's cousins. Also heart-breakingly good looking guys, but with more respect towards women than Levi. "Groomsmen," Jake added as an explaination. That one was for me.

Good. More information. I pulled the iPad from my purse and started typing. "And who are the bridesmaids?" I asked but when I looked up, three of them had confused looks on their faces. I couldn't tell what Levi was looking at. "What?"

Sandrine spoke up. "Veronique, we did not ask you to come so you can work. We wanted you to come so you can take a break from all of that." She pointed at my iPad.

"Oh." I said looking down, clutching my iPad against my chest.

Sandrine reached out for my hand. "You've been working so hard and everything has been flowing rather well." Yeah, because I've been working so hard, no thanks to either one of them. "Plus the rest are minor details now that we have the date and location figured out."

What did she know about wedding planning? What did any of them? I suppressed a 'but', and sighed.

"Yeah, Vero, chill out." Isobel added with a wink.

Jake poured me some wine. "Just relax for tonight, Nica. Put that thing away before I hide it from you."He nodded towards my iPad.

I hugged it tighter to my chest protecting all the important dates and details in it. Before anyone else could say more, I placed it back in my purse. How I wished Jake had been clearer that this was truly a social visit. I could have made time to change from my work suit to a nicer dress. Honestly, I could have made time for it. The shoes I was wearing were not meant for dancing, if that was the plan.

"Well, I'll just go to the little girl's room to... Loosen up." I had no better way to describe it. It did garner a few laughs from the table, even though I wasn't trying to be funny. Levi just looked amused.

After untying my hair and unsuccessfully using the hand drier to make it voluminous, I re-applied lipstick and a thicker coat of mascara and liner. With my suit jacket off, I didn't look half bad. When I returned to the table, Landon and Trent had arrived with, I assumed, their girlfriends.

I was suddenly thankful for Isobel's presence. It would have looked like a group date if she wasn't there. Or maybe right now, I looked like the spare tire, unpartnered, underdressed and frumpy, despite my earlier attempts in the bathroom. Compared to all the other women at the table, even Isobel who was five years my junior, I looked dowdy and not very sophisticated. I made a note to keep a pair of high-heeled pumps and better accessories in my purse for emergencies.

To drown my sorrows, I started drinking wine... then champagne... then wine again. I think I even took a bite of whatever the waiter served me. Levi started handing me colorful drinks once we walked into a nearby club, and when somebody suggested shots, we were all in.

They wanted me to loosen up and I was doing it expertly. How else could one loosen up in the presence of her ex and his current love and future wife, his Adonis of a best friend-- who was also a slithering playboy, his two gorgeous cousins and their equally gorgeous partners, and the whiny twenty-year old who had to stay sober because she was underage?

"Let's go dancing, mon cher!" Sandrine smoothly suggested. She didn't look drunk at all. I followed the line of her fingers caressing Jake's arms and shoulders. Then gulped at the sight of Jake exploring her curves with his hands.

I noticed how the men reacted to her-- act first, question later. Nod first then follow through.

A strong pair of hands led me to the dance floor where I tried my hardest to move in sync with the music. The operative word being 'tried'. The flow of alcohol rushing through my veins, filling my head with unfettered thoughts. A hand grabbed and squeezed my butt. My contacts had dried up and irritated my half-shut eyes. I couldn't see who was grinding against me. Or was I grinding against them? I was clearly not in any shape or form to dance but the alcohol had made everything whoozy. Was that even a word? Whoooooozy...

We piled into a black limo when we left the club, except for a pouting Isobel, who was sent home after the restaurant. Being twenty had its disadvantages at times, even if you had the perfect, youthful skin. My skin had suffered from staying at late night events, not for fun but for work.

More champagne flowed in the limo. Although I was raised in a part Scottish, part Irish and part Filipino family, and supposedly should have been able to handle my booze, there were still such things as too much booze. After all, I stood at five-foot four and weighed a very secret average amount.

With two bites during dinner, one bowl of cereal for breakfast and a skipped lunch, the alcohol surged through me. All I could remember of the night were flashing lights, bumping and grinding, lots of kissing and groping, and more booze. In my twenty-five year history, lots of alcohol only equated to a very high level of danger. And I didn't know how much danger until the next day.

******
A/N: what could possibly go wrong?

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