“You have no idea. Sydney insists we have these shower meetings,” I say, using air quotes, “that make me want to shoot myself. Last week, Sydney forced me to drink a mimosa. And we had brunch. We had fucking brunch. Who even came up with that? Some old rich lady who couldn’t figure out if she was hungry for breakfast or lunch by the time she rolled her ass out of bed at noon?”
Charlie bursts out into laughter and slaps her hand down on her thigh. “That’s awesome. I wish someone had a video of that. You know how I feel about brunch. I don’t get it either. I want breakfast or lunch not the option for them both. Sydney pretty much lives for them. So does Kennedy. I guess it’s a ritzy thing.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s funny. You should’ve seen the elaborate setup Sydney had just for us to eat lunch or whatever the hell it was that she was serving. I couldn’t even pronounce half of the foods on the table.”
Charlie chuckles. “Alex would get a kick out of this.”
“You wouldn’t,” I say, challenging her. “Alex would never let me live that one down, and don’t you dare tell him either.”
“Okay, fine. Don’t get your boxers all twisted up in a bunch.” She makes an X over her heart, the way she did when we were kids. “Cross my heart.”
“I’m glad you’re so mature about it,” I deadpan, a smile crossing my lips.
“Some things never change.”
No, they don’t. At least not when it comes to Charlie.
I still haven’t asked Regan if she would be my date for the wedding. We’ve been dating for close to three months, my feelings for her growing stronger each day. It’s about time I include her in my life outside the office or my apartment. I just hope the girls don’t drive her crazy.
For the first time this week, I’m actually on time and didn’t call to reschedule my date with Regan. She looks gorgeous, as always, with her hair styled into long curls that fall past her shoulders, sitting right at her breasts that spill out from a canary yellow top. All I can think about is getting her out of those tight clothes and into my bed. But I have to do my man-of-honor duties before we can escape from the torture Sydney is making us endure.
“Jamie, you’re not doing it right,” Sydney says, grabbing the hot glue gun from my hand. “Here, let me show you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Regan smirking at me. She finds this about as entertaining as I do. Except she loves my pain, laughing to herself when she doesn’t think I notice.
“Why don’t you just hire someone to do this?” I ask, Sydney, which earns me a disapproving look in response.
“Are you insane? We are the bridesmaids in this wedding…well, you’re not, per say, but still, it’s our job to make this day special for Charlotte. You, of all people, should want this to be perfect for her.”
“Of course, I do. All I’m saying is we could hire people that could do a much better job.” I hold up the water bottle that Sydney had me bedazzle. Those were her words, not mine. “You expect people to drink out of a bottle with rhinestones on it. I just don’t get why we are doing all this stuff. No one will care if they are drinking from a bottle of Aquafina or the ones we’re decorating.”
“This is the problem with men,” Sydney says, flicking her dark curls over her shoulder, glancing at Kennedy. “Such simpletons.”
“Tyler and Carter wouldn’t be caught dead doing any of this stuff,” Kennedy says, coming to my rescue. I like her a little more now than I did before. “At least give Jamie some credit for making an effort.”
“Thank you,” I say to Kennedy. “I get made fun of by your boyfriends for doing this shit. At least I’m trying, whether I suck at it or not.”
Regan brushes her fingers down my arm to get my attention. “It’s okay, Dimples. I’ll do the rest of them for you.”
Sydney cups her hand over her mouth and laughs. “How cute. Did you just call him Dimples?”
Regan nods. “Yeah. Jamie has the cutest dimple.”
Sydney studies my face as if she has me under a microscope. “You’re right. How have I never noticed that before?” She sits down at the long dining room table next to Regan and latches onto her. “So, tell me. I never heard the story about how the two of you met.”
“You are so nosy,” I say to Sydney.
“Well, if you won’t tell me, then someone needs to give me the dirt on the two of you.”
“I haven’t told you because I don’t want to end up in one of your books.”
“Stop being so sensitive, Jamie.” Sydney picks up a bottle and presses a gem that’s falling off back onto the wrapper. “I want to get to know the two of you better. Is that such a bad thing?”
“No, not at all,” Regan interjects, her voice soft and pleasant. “I don’t mind telling you the story.”
While Regan gives the girls all the details of how we met, I work on finishing the favors for the shower next weekend.
I have a few hours before I need to get back to work. Otherwise, I will be even further behind schedule for the delivery of the game. We pulled off the demo, though I’m not so sure they were entirely convinced that it works. I tried my best to trick them into believing we had a solid product. By doing so, I bought myself more time. And I need every second I can get.