Love on the Rocks (with Salt) (5 page)

I take one last sip of my latte
and head to the front. Before I can ask Kate what she needs, I see
him standing by the desk with his hands in his pockets, rocking
back and forth on his heels.

Crap. If I’d known it was him, I’d have put
some lipstick on. Not that I wear lipstick.

“
Hey,” he says,
smiling.

I take a deep breath. “Hey.”

“
Can we go somewhere?
Talk?”

“
I’m working.”

“
Right…”

“
You could come back at six when I
get off.” I smack my forehead as if I’m just remembering something.
“Oh, wait. You have your rehearsal dinner tonight.”

He winces. “Maybe over there,
then?” he asks, pointing to the back of the store.

I roll my eyes, and we walk over
to the back corner of the shop.

“
She told me some famous French
supermodel from the eighties was designing her dress. I had no
idea.”

I smirk. French Canadian. And supermodel is
stretching it. By a lot. “That was obvious. You know she knows,
right?”

“
What do you mean? I never told
her about us.”

“
Of course you didn’t. It was just
a fling. Six days in Mexico.”

He takes a step closer to me. “It was more
than that.”

I take two steps back. “Why are
you here, Andy? You’re getting married tomorrow. Did you come here
to tell me you’re getting cold feet? Every time you drink a
margarita you think of me and now that you’ve seen me you can’t
take it any more? Do you want to run away together?”

He shoves his hands back in his
pockets and starts rocking on his feet again. I was so happy that
week. This is the first time he’s been exposed to my sarcasm. But a
little part of me wonders what if he did ask me? What would I
do?

“
Yes, I mean, no. I…” He takes a
deep breath and starts over. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. I don’t
know if I ever said that. I should have told you from the
beginning. But it was my last big hurrah before real life. I didn’t
think we’d fall in love.”

“
Fine. You’ve apologized. My life
wasn’t ruined over one week in Cancun. I have a boyfriend. He’s a
lawyer,” I tell him so he knows I’m not with a loser. “We’re moving
in together next month,” I say, not quite sure it’s
true.

He closes the gap I’ve put between
us and takes my hand. “I know your life wasn’t ruined. I didn’t
mean that. I just… Elizabeth is my life. I love her, but I think
about you sometimes, and I wonder what life might have been like if
I’d met you first.”

“
That’s something you’ll have to
keep wondering. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be the one in the
nondescript black pantsuit. Elizabeth will be the one in white.” I
pull my hand away, turn on my heel and walk to the backroom,
leaving the ghost of my past behind me.

~~~~

Saturday morning I wake up to the smell of
coffee. I use the bathroom, put on my robe and slippers and pad to
the kitchen.

“
You’re home early,” I say to
Amanda.

She is slicing a half a banana and putting it
on peanut butter toast. “Alex had to be at the hospital at six. I
didn’t have my gym clothes with me. Want to join me for
spin?”

“
Ugh, you know I hate
spin.”

“
C’mon. It will be
fun.”

“
I think you and I have different
ideas of fun,” I say, topping my coffee off with a hearty dose of
vanilla creamer and taking a sip. “Mmm. This is really
good.”

“
Thanks. You want this?” She
offers me the other half of her banana. I nod and take it from her.
“I’m surprised you didn’t stay at Kyle’s last night.”

“
Poker night,” I tell her, taking
a bite of the banana.

“
Kind of crazy how it seems
neither of us is ever here,” she says.

“
Yeah, kind of crazy,” I parrot,
taking another sip.

I notice she’s biting her bottom lip, a
nervous habit of hers. “What’s up?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
You’re biting your
lip.”

She smiles. “You know me so well.
Alex asked me to move in with him.”

“
Really?!” I ask jumping up and
down.

“
Really,” she says, looking
relieved.

“
Kyle asked me to move in with
him,” I tell her, smiling.

“
Oh my God! What did you tell
him?”

“
I told him I’d think about it.
What did you tell Alex?”

“
I told him I’d think about it,”
she says, pulling me into a hug.

“
It does make sense,” I say,
hoping I’m not smashing banana on her back.

“
Yes, it does,” she agrees,
hugging me harder. “I’m so happy. We’re both getting exactly what
we want.”

~~~~

I arrive at the wedding at two
o’clock to dress Elizabeth. It’s great extra money—250 dollars cash
to help the bride into her dress, button up the back and fluff it
up for pictures. It’s really what the maid of honor should be
doing, but most brides are more than happy to pay for the
service.

I see a woman who is obviously the wedding
coordinator from the authoritarian look on her face, pastel
pantsuit and sensible shoes. Of course my shoes are sensible as
well, so I shouldn’t be so judgy.

“
Hi, I’m Laney. I’m here to dress
Elizabeth.”

“
Oh yes, from Gabriella’s. I’m
Krysti. Come this way.”

I follow Krysti to a dressing room in the
church. I like church weddings. They’re so beautiful and often
don’t have too many location changes for photos. I like to keep my
fluffing to a minimum.

“
Hello, Mrs. Fenway,” I say to
Elizabeth’s mother. She’s from old California money. Her
grandfather owned half of the central valley according to
Gabriella.

“
Please call me Barbara, Laney.”
Then she turns her head and calls out, “Betsy, Laney is here. Are
you ready to get dressed?”

Elizabeth separates herself from her
bridesmaids and walks over to us. “Mom, it’s Elizabeth. Please! I
don’t know why I have to keep reminding you. You’re the one who
named me.”

Elizabeth’s mother shoots me
a look. Nerves are clearly getting to Elizabeth. In all of my
dealings with her she’s never been bitchy. Well except for showing
up at the shop two days ago with Andy and a look that said,
Ha ha! Look who I get to marry and you
don’t.
That’s bitchy.

“
Oh great, you’re here,” Elizabeth
says to me. “I wasn’t sure you’d show.”

“
I’m not late, am I? I was sure it
was two o’clock.” I’m often late for social engagements, but I’m
never ever late for work.

“
Laney’s right. It was two
o’clock. She’s not late,” Barbara confirms.

“
I know,” says Elizabeth with a
smirk.

“
Have you eaten anything today,
Elizabeth?” I ask her.

“
Yes, why?”

“
Oh, the stress of the day. A lot
of brides forget to eat. It will probably be at least four or five
hours before you can eat again. I have a Luna Bar if you’d like.
Trust me, you’ll still fit into your dress if you eat it,” I add
wickedly.

“
I’m fine. Thanks.”

Usually I refuse to dress my
brides until they eat the Luna Bar. They all say they’ve eaten, but
most of them are lying. With Elizabeth I decide I don’t care. If
she wants to bitch out due to low blood sugar, who am I to deny her
that simple pleasure? It’s her day.

“
Great. Let me know when you’re
ready to put on your gown.”

“
I’m ready now. The dress is over
here.”

She leads me to a separate little room. The
dress really did turn out beautifully if I do say so myself. It has
spaghetti straps with a draped neck and low back in a cream colored
satin. It skims her hips and then flares out a bit. Not quite a
mermaid style but close. It has a vintage feel to it. I start to
unbutton the tiny buttons at the back of the dress.

“
So,” Elizabeth says, her mother
and bridesmaids out of earshot, “you looked rather taken aback on
Thursday.” She starts the process of squeezing into her Spanx. She
has a great figure, but this dress is very unforgiving. Much like
Elizabeth.

“
Taken
aback?”
Who says that? What is
she—eighty?

“
Yes. Meeting Andrew. Or I suppose
I should say seeing him again.” For someone who is standing before
me naked and squeezing herself into Lycra, she seems pretty
confident.

“
What’s going on, exactly?” I ask,
tired of her game.

“
I found a picture. Did a little
digging. Thought I’d see if there was anything I needed to worry
about.”

“
So you thought you’d have me
design your wedding dress?” I ask, looking up from the
buttons.

“
I did enjoy the irony,” she says,
looking at me in the mirror.

“
Why not just confront
Andy—Andrew?”

“
Men lie, Laney. He’d probably say
it was just a fling.”

“
That’s all it
was!”
At least for him
, I almost add, but don’t give her the satisfaction. “We hung
out for a week in Cancun, he told me he was getting married, and I
never saw or spoke to him again.”

“
Then why did he keep your
picture?”

“
That might be something you want
to ask him. Preferably before you walk down the aisle.”

Elizabeth gives one last tug at her Spanx. I
usually don’t subscribe to my mother’s hippie mumbo jumbo, but even
I know this much negative energy is not good for her wedding
day.

Barbara sticks her head through the door.
“Elizabeth, I thought you’d be ready by now. The photographer’s
here.”

“
OK, Mom.” She turns to me and
plasters a smile on her face. “Let’s get this dress on,
Laney.”

I plaster on a matching smile. “You got it.
Tell Frank we’ll be just a few minutes, Barbara.”

“
You know Frank?” Barbara asks,
surprised.

“
You do enough weddings in this
town you know the major players. Frank’s one of the
best.”

Barbara smiles, seemingly happy I’ve confirmed
she’s chosen her photographer well. “Yes, he is good. I’ll tell him
you’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Elizabeth steps into her dress,
and I start buttoning the buttons. “You really should talk to
Andrew, Elizabeth.”

“
Don’t be silly, Laney. It’s bad
luck for the bride to see the groom before the wedding.”

“
That’s just an old wives’ tale.
And forget luck. I think it would be much worse to start your
marriage with a secret. No, not a secret. A lie.”

She shifts her feet and squares her shoulders
defiantly. “He lied to me.”

“
He did. But two lies don’t make a
truth.”

She stands there looking at me,
and I can’t tell if she’s going to cry or slap me.

“
He came to see me yesterday,” I
blurt out. “I told him you know.”

The color drains from her face. Shit. Frank’s
going to kill me.

“
What?!”

“
He came to tell me he was sorry.
He didn’t know I worked at the shop. I told him you knew; that I
could tell by your expression.”

Her shoulders slump. I
finish the last button and turn her toward me. “He told me he loves
you, Elizabeth. And you obviously love him. He said you were his
life.
Talk to him.
”

She looks down and won’t meet my gaze. I sigh
and say, “I’m going to talk to Frank about where he wants to set up
the first photos.”

“
Laney,” she says as my hand turns
the knob. “Can you find Andrew for me and tell him I need to talk
to him? And then tell the make-up girl not to leave. I might need a
little touch up when she’s done with the bridesmaids.”

My shoulders relax. “Sure.” I turn
toward her. “And for what it’s worth, I didn’t know about you. That
he was engaged. I would have never been with him if I’d known.” But
as I say the words, I wonder if maybe, in all the lies that have
been told in this whole mess, if that’s the biggest lie of
all.

“
Smells good,”
Kyle says, coming up behind me and kissing me on the neck. My
fiancé’s kisses send shivers down my spine.
My fiancé.
We’ve been engaged for
three months, and I still get a thrill every time I say the word
inside my head.
Fiancé.

“
Me or the taco meat,” I joke,
breaking up the seasoned ground turkey in the skillet. Kyle’s
stopped eating red meat, whereas I could eat it for breakfast,
lunch and dinner.

“
Both. But I think I’d rather
nibble on you,” he whispers in my ear and then bites it. It’s not
hard, but it’s more than a nibble, and I’m no longer hungry. It’s a
rare night that I cook though, so he’s going to have to wait until
after dinner.