THE JUNIOR BRIDESMAID (12 page)

“Hello, Davis,” I
answered breathlessly.

“Hello, Miss Dee.
You have a visitor,” he surprised me with his announcement, as I wasn’t
expecting anyone. “Should I send him up?”

“Um.” I wasn’t
sure who it could be so I hesitated afraid that it was Will who had deluded
himself into thinking that I was his date for the evening. “Who is it, Davis?”
I asked instead.

I heard a scuffle
through the intercom and then a different voice through the speaker.

“Delilah, it’s me.
Let me up.” Then I heard the voice talking to Davis. “Back off, man. I’m
telling you right now.”

“Hugh?” My voice
went up a few octaves in disbelief.

“Yeah,” he
clarified then I heard a bang like something had banged into a wall.

I sighed heavily
and heard what sounded like Davis in the background but his voice sounded
different. Almost hoarse. And maybe a little squeaky. “Should I call the
police, Delilah?” He sounded like a combination of Donald Duck and Minnie
Mouse.

I hurried to
answer him picturing Hugh’s large hand wrapped around Davis’ little neck.
Images of Davis helplessly pressed up against the paneling in the lobby by
Hugh’s formidable body assailed me. “No, no, Davis. Just send him up.”

Then I heard more
scuffling and Hugh barking orders at Davis.

“Buzz me in, damn
it,” Hugh demanded and I felt my heart begin to race at his tone.

I heard the buzzer
sound which unlocked the interior door. I guess Davis had given in.

“I don’t like you
one bit,” Davis shared not realizing I could still hear their exchange through
the intercom. “You’re not good enough for my Delilah.” I could hear the volume
of his voice escalate indicating that Hugh made his way through the door and
closer to the elevator.

Aw, that was sweet
of Davis. He called me
his
Delilah.

Then I realized I
should stop eavesdropping on Davis and prepare myself for Hugh’s arrival. Too
late. My time was up. I heard the elevator ding. So I did the only thing I
could and inhaled a cleansing breath. I let it out slowly trying to control my
rapid heart rate. Hugh knocked on my front door forcefully. I stared at it a
moment and then decided in that very instant to turn around and go get my bag
on my bed. Yeah, it was a bitchy thing to do but I was still experiencing
flashbacks from the sight that marred my virgin eyes at lunch. I heard him bang
again while he simultaneously instructed me to ‘open up.’ Unhappy with his
aggression toward Davis and assertiveness now with me, I called out for him to
wait a minute. And I didn’t say it nicely.

I deliberately
took my time getting to the door and swung it open tucking my little jeweled
handbag under my arm. “What?” I asked with resentment.

Hugh walked in
brushing past me and turned toward me in the middle of my living area. Focusing
on Hugh and how good he looked, my mouth contorted slightly as I bit the inside
of my cheek. He was wearing a black tuxedo, crisp white shirt with a straight
aubergine tie and a matching hankie in his jacket pocket. He looked
unbelievably dapper and it was working against my resolve to be a bitch.

I watched as
Hugh’s eyes slowly worked me over. It was difficult to stand my ground knowing
that his eyes were taking in every curve and nuance of my body. He certainly
couldn’t have missed much because he took his sweet ass time. I pretended that
I didn’t notice his admiration and forged on. “Hugh. What are you doing here?”
I somewhat reiterated.

He tore his face
away while he contemplated his response. I just stared at him as venomously as
I could and waited. It probably wasn’t as impressive as I intended.

When he looked
back at me I could tell that he was reining in a plethora of different
emotions. “There’s nothing going on with me and Stacey,” he began while sliding
his jacket open so his hands could slide into the pockets of his slacks. Since
I didn’t respond immediately, he raised his shoulders and lowered them to
accentuate his point. As soon as he saw me twitch he held up one hand with the
universal signal to stop. “Don’t go there, Delilah. She asked me to lunch to
talk about the merger. That’s all.”

Did he think I was
a moron? I threw my hands on my hips to mimic his stance before I spoke. Not a
very feminine position given I didn’t have pockets and I was wearing a designer
dress and heels. But I was trying to make a point. “Tell me something, Hugh.” I
ordered heatedly. “When you met with Steven were you holding hands across the
conference table while you made small talk about the merger?”

Since my
perceptiveness and sarcasm left him speechless I knew I had scored a point. But
then he clenched his jaw together and responded with the lamest excuse I’d ever
heard. “If you’d taken the time to notice, Stacey was the one stretched across
the table toward me,” his right hand slid from his pocket to point at himself,
“I wasn’t even meeting her halfway.”

I’m sorry. On what
planet did he think this reasoning actually made sense?

I was already
shaking my head before my hands had risen in protest because there was no way
that I could have this conversation with Hugh just before the gala. If I didn’t
burst into hysterics from being upset I would lose it over the overwhelming
sense of frustration as a result of his ridiculous argument. I was already
barely holding it together and my last thread of composure was stressed to say
the least.

“I can’t do this
right now,” I whispered still holding up my hands to silence any effort on his
part to try to change my mind.

“Well, I can’t
wait till later.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Clearly we were at
an impasse.

“Hugh, it took me
a half an hour to do my eye make up alone. I can’t get all upset and have to
start over,” I explained the reasoning behind my statement. When it registered
that our conversation would be so painful that I would be reduced to tears his
demeanor softened slightly. But it was imperative to my mental well being that
I carried on. “Listen. I have to go or I’ll be late.”

“Fine. We’ll go
together,” he responded. Hugh walked toward me as I tried to figure out a way
to tell him that his suggestion wasn’t an option. I know he saw me stammering
because instead of letting me think of something to say he grabbed my arm and
spun me toward the door. I dragged my heels as best I could in protest.

“Um, Hugh. We, um,
aren’t going to be able to go together.”

“Delilah, please,”
he complained. Clearly Hugh was still agitated. “I’ve already told you that
there is nothing going on with Stacey.” He shook his head as he tried to escort
me out the door. I was still resisting and I could tell that Hugh was unable to
understand why I was being so stubborn.

“No, no. That’s
not what I mean.” I pulled a little more firmly in the opposite direction. “We,
um, can’t go together because we can’t be seen arriving together.” I wasn’t
prepared to explain to Hugh that Will had already threatened to tell my boss
about us having dinner together. If Will saw us show up in the same cab at the
gala things could get dicey. Well dicey-er anyway.

But Hugh was not
going to take my resistance at face value. He stopped pulling and turned to
confront me nose-to-nose, well…nose-to-forehead. “Why should that matter?” He
looked at me unwaveringly. “Who would even notice?” he shrugged, challenging me
to answer.

My mouth bobbed up
and down while I tried to fabricate a plausible excuse. The cologne he was
wearing was making it difficult for me to form an intelligent sentence. “Uh.
Well, I just think it would give people the wrong idea.”

Well, if that
wasn’t the last thing I should have said I don’t know what was.

I could tell by
the look on his face that he didn’t like the remark or its connotation. “The
wrong idea,” he repeated.

Shit. Why couldn’t
he just let it go?

“You know what I
mean,” I tried.

But he was shaking
his head before he spoke. “No. I don’t know what you mean. Why don’t you
enlighten me? And since you are so concerned with being late, you can do so in
the cab on the ride over,” he finished with a hint of satisfaction since he was
essentially getting his way. Hugh turned hooking me by the arm as he spun and
marched me out my door. Before I could realize what was happening, we were
streaming past Davis who was yelling at Hugh that he should seek out classes
for anger management. I wiggled my fingers as a departing gesture to Davis and
found myself ushered into a cab.

“Go,” he ordered.

The cab driver
thought Hugh was talking to him so he began to drive. The problem was that I
was too wrapped up in Hugh’s bossiness to give the driver a destination. Hugh
was too wrapped up in the “wrong idea” comment to notice. The ‘go’ was aimed at
me to start explaining.

The cab driver
looked in his rearview mirror and back at the road trying to assess the
situation. “Uh, buddy,” he called out of the corner of his mouth, “I don’t mind
being told to drive but it would help if you told me where we were going.”

Hugh looked over
the seat realizing he first had to deal with the formalities of a cab ride
before he could interrogate me. “301 Park,” he informed and then turned his
attention back to me allowing no reprieve. “Go,” he reiterated with a nod.

“I, um, just think
that my coworkers will think that this isn’t a professional relationship if
they see us spending a lot of time together outside of the office.” I shrugged
one shoulder only, which was universal for ‘it was no big deal.’

“This
isn’t
a professional relationship,
Delilah. It’s personal. Very personal. And I for one don’t give a shit if
someone in your office finds out,” he raised his eyebrows in challenge. “Unless
of course you really think that you and I are a
wrong idea
.” And then I watched the blanket of disappointment
consume him as the possibility sunk in. “Is that what you think? For real? I’ve
been waiting for you for like fucking ever. Are you telling me that I was
wasting my time?”

“No,” I hurried. I
had wanted Hugh for most of my life and I couldn’t let him think that I wasn’t
interested. “It’s not that,” I promised.

“Then what is it?”
he pressed.

I stared at my
intertwining fingers in my lap trying to figure out how to tiptoe around the
subject of Will’s threat. “I need my job, Hugh,” I said without further
explanation.

“Okay,” he said
confused. “I didn’t ask you to quit your job. This is the twenty-first century.
I’m okay with you having a career.” As the words left his lips a dawning seemed
to consume his features. “She threatened you didn’t she?” He meant Stacey. He didn’t
have to say her name for me to know what he was thinking. And honestly, threats
were certainly in Stacey’s arsenal of deceit. But it wasn’t Stacey. Not this
time. “That bitch,” he finished.

“No,” I instantly
responded as the cab jerked to a stop in front of the Waldorf. Hugh handed the
driver a wad of cash and swung open his door. He was on the move sliding his
body out of the cab on his side as he grabbed my hand to pull me across the
seat with him. I was out of the cab before I even knew it.

He gripped my hand
in his and held it firmly as we walked up the stairs to the front doors. I was
trying to be discreet so I called his name on a half whisper. “Hugh.”

I needed to get
his attention before he confronted Stacey in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels
in the world and proceeded to call her a well deserved, yet poorly timed, name.
But he was on a mission and seemed to have cocooned himself from listening to
reason. “Hugh,” I tried again tugging on his hand that had a vice grip on mine.

“Don’t bother,
Delilah.” He wouldn’t even turn to look at me. “I’ll handle this,” he assured.

“But…” Before I
could say another word Stacey appeared from an adjacent room as if on cue. She
looked like a bright and shiny Christmas package just begging to be opened by
any male who had experienced the onset of puberty. Her red sequined dress had a
deep V-neck, the black stilettos had straps that snaked up her ankle and she
had a thin, black velvet bow slightly askew that was daintily tied around her
neck. It was screaming, ‘open me.’

Damn, she looked
hot.

“Hugh.” Stacey
batted her eyelashes and gave him the once over. The smile on her face was coy
and sexy as she took her time admiring him from head to toe. She locked her
hands behind her back and began to sway her hips from side to side. She looked
like a wild animal gearing up to pounce. “You look…very…handsome,” her eyes
took another tour as mine rolled in a circle. I grunted my dissatisfaction
bringing Stacey’s attention to me. “Delilah,” she stated abhorrently.

“Can I speak to
you in private, Stacey?” Hugh interrupted trying to control his irritation.

Stacey shot me a
look of satisfaction like she had just won the prize that I had spent my bottom
dollar trying to win at the Fair. “By the way, Delilah, Will was looking for
you. He’s more your speed,” she added snidely ending in a whisper. “He’s in
there.” She pointed to the room that she had just vacated.

I didn’t respond
to her remark. There was no need to. But I did call out to Hugh. Granted it was
a half assed barely audible attempt at getting his attention. But at that point
I really didn’t care. “Hugh. No. Stop.” I didn’t actually expect him to turn
around since I deliberately said his name so quietly that trained military dogs
would have had trouble hearing me. So, as he disappeared into the next room all
I could do was sigh knowing Stacey was about to get the surprise of her life.
Gee. What a shame.

I turned to watch
Stacey saunter and sway her body lusting after my Hugh. She even turned back to
look at me with the most lopsided yet gratifying grin I had ever seen on her
professionally airbrushed face. At least that was one mystery solved. Stacey
had spent all day getting ready for this evening. I just hope she had time to
prepare her part of our speech.