“Nice top. You know it’s see-through, right?”
“No, it’s not.” I press my lips into a thin line thinking of a way to sidestep the fact that I know it’s see-through when I really didn’t. “And anyway, I’m wearing a white bra.”
“You look really good today, very hot. Almost like you’re trying to impress someone.”
I turn around swiftly and crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “No, I’m not. I look the same as every other day.”
“Oh,” Mia says, leaning her back against the fridge. “My mistake. So, you finalized the rest of the wedding plans yesterday, and everything’s done? I was thinking of coming around tonight so we could make the place cards for the table. There’s this great craft shop a few blocks away which have these beautiful silk cardboard cut-outs, and we could buy some lace to match. What do you think?”
I nod, agreeing, although my headspace’s clouded, and the last thing I can think about right now is place cards. As I make my coffee, I add another teaspoon of sugar to sweeten it up and give me the much-needed boost of energy to get me through today. Thankfully, Slater won’t be in until after lunch which gives me time to think about what I need to say to him.
Sitting at my desk, my hands twitch nervously while I stare at the screen blankly. I grab my Troll Doll with the wild purple hair that sits beside my screen. In an attempt to calm my irrational thoughts, I play with the Troll’s hair sliding it between my fingers the same way I’d done when I was a child. Such an ugly doll. Who the hell came up with such a thing? Probably the same person who thought spandex flatters women’s bodies.
My inbox keeps pinging, clients wanting to wrap up some last-minute work along with Mr. Becker sending through some new proposals wanting me to a get a head start before I leave for my honeymoon. It’s only two weeks that I will be out of the office, but he’s in a panic, constantly telling me he doesn’t know how he survived before I took this position. It flatters my ego but doesn’t help to ease the burden of the workload.
It’s just before lunch when I sense someone standing in my doorway. Before looking up to confirm my fears, I pray it’s not Slater because I’m still not ready to deal with the situation.
What do I say? ‘You’re kinda hot and sexy, and no woman would kick you out of bed including me, but I love Drew, so take your feelings elsewhere because I’m a cock-tease for wearing a slutty blouse?’
Yep, you’re totally screwed.
I turn my head to see Drew standing in the middle of the doorway. His presence catches me off guard, yet I’m quick to suppress my shock. He’s dressed rather nicely wearing his chinos and a navy short-sleeve buttoned shirt. It’s the shirt with tiny flamingos over it. I remember when he first wore it, I couldn’t stop singing Pretty Flamingo which irritated him to the point he avoided wearing the shirt whenever I was around.
His sunglasses are sitting on top of his head nestled in his perfectly styled hair. I miss him. He still makes the butterflies run wild and flutter like maniacs, but his silence is unnerving. Something tells me now is not a good time to break out into a song.
“Drew?” I stand up to walk toward him planting a kiss on his lips. His body stiffens, and I pull back, unsure why. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a fiancé visit to take you out to lunch?” His tone is cold, void of any loving emotion.
“Of course.” I smile, avoiding the angered stare on his beautiful face. “I have a meeting in an hour, but if you give me a couple of minutes I’ll just send this, and we can head out.”
He sits at my table removing his cell from his pocket and placing it on my desk watching me intently. His jaw is firm accentuating his prominent cheekbones. I only notice now he hasn’t shaved giving him that rugged look of a man experiencing the worst hangover ever. Drew isn’t a big drinker, so it doesn’t surprise me that he’s irritable due to Saturday night’s bender.
“So how was Saturday night?” I ask typing quickly so we can get out of here before Slater walks in. The adrenalin is fueling my nerves and half-listening to Drew, I hit send knowing Mr. Becker’s waiting for me to respond.
“Fun, I guess,” he says, keeping his voice low. “And your night out? Did you do anything interesting?”
“Mia took us out to some male strip club, but the men were questionable. They knew the lyrics to Like A Prayer down to every syllable.” I laugh, switching my attention back to him.
He continues to watch me, barely a smile on his face. His eyes won’t back down piercing me with daggered stares like I’ve done something wrong, something for him to be angry about.
“Is something wrong? You’re awfully quiet.”
Drew doesn’t say anything, and to curb the nervous energy, I go on about the wedding plans hoping to change his mood. It doesn’t seem to do anything, and I send my final email before looking up and seeing Slater in the main area with two of our clients. They’re early. His eyes meet mine dancing delightfully with a playful smirk on his lips. I give him a quick smile back until Drew notices and turns his head to see what I’m looking at. Instantly, I see his pupils dilate, the rage bouncing off him as he turns back around clenching his jaw.
“I think our clients are early,” I tell him, trying to read what Slater’s mouthing to me. Whatever he’s telling me doesn’t make sense. I’ve never considered myself talented when it comes to reading lip reading. “I’m sorry, can we rain check lunch?”
Distracted by where they’re walking to, Drew’s voice, rather growl, startles me. “I think we need a break.”
I shuffle my head back into position, eyes wide and mouth open as I try to comprehend what he’s just said. “Excuse me? A break from what? Each other?”
“Where were you on Saturday night?” he demands, rather than questioning.
Slater is standing at the entrance of the meeting room beckoning me over.
“I told you already. Drew, I really have to go.”
“Answer me, Zoey.”