The scent of his cologne mixes with his breath and hair wax. The combination is like raw sewage I smelled once when the old apartment I was in had an unfortunate backup. I start gagging. The breakfast I had churns dangerously, and I can taste acid in the back of my throat and nose.
“We don’t have all day!” he hisses.
The clerk frowns at him, disapproval rearranging her face into tight lines, then turns to me. “You all right, hon? You look a little pale.”
I shake my head. “I think… I think I’m… I’m going t— HyaaAARRGHH.” I turn and projectile-vomit all over Aaron’s shirt. The disgusting mixture drips down to his shorts and Jordans.
“Aggh! What the fuck?” he screeches, jumping back. He starts flapping his arms and stomping around like he’s covered in toxic nuclear goo, all the while screaming at the top of his lungs. “So fucking gross! I can’t wear these again!”
My ears hurt, and my stomach and throat feel raw. But
underneath is a petty satisfaction. Serves him right. Besides, the puke didn’t spoil his outfit. I’d say it’s actually an improvement. Based on my experience with him, I know he’ll end up tossing the clothes.
The clerk comes clicking out in her sensible heels with a wad of Kleenex, which she hands to me. “Oh my goodness. Are you all right? Should we call 911?”
I place the tissues over my mouth. “Just some morning sickness.” I eye Aaron, who’s practically sobbing now. “Certain odors make me really nauseated.”
The clerk clucks her tongue at the way he’s going on and on. “Are you sure about this marriage?” she asks in a low voice. “He shouldn’t be acting like that to the mother of his child.”
His child? I open my mouth to correct her, then stop. Maybe I can use this to my advantage. “No. But he’s rushing me. I’d rather raise the baby alone than have a father like that around.” Then I move my arm so she can see the red mark on my wrist from him dragging me to the car earlier. I doubt it’s going to bruise, but it looks impressively raw.
She gasps. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call 911?”
I shake my head. I need to find a way to neutralize Plan B first. “Just find a way to delay this wedding.”
She gives me a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll see what I can do. I remember going over the schedule this morning, and you know what? It doesn’t look like anybody can marry you today.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jo
Since Aaron refuses to drive me back, I call for an Uber. On the way home, I call David Darling back and apologize profusely for not making the appointment. This is another black mark against Aaron. Professionalism is my middle name, and I’ve never stood up a client and called after the fact before. Ever.
Since I can’t tell David the truth about my humiliating drama, I invent a family emergency. I offer to take care of Erin now, but he asks me to come back later after dealing with my family issues.
“Family is everything, Josephine,” he says. “Erin can wait a day or two.” His understanding tone intensifies my guilt for having lied to him.
When the car stops in front of my building, I climb out, my legs still a little shaky. I realize I haven’t eaten anything since whatever breakfast I had came back up. My mouth is still astringent and overly minty from the mouthwash I used back at the courthouse bathroom. Thank God I keep a travel-sized one in my purse, just in case. Personal hygiene is very important, but who would’ve thought I’d be using it after puking all over a grotesque ex-boyfriend-turned-faux-fiancé?
Even though I’m hungry and slightly lightheaded, I giggle a little at the memory of Aaron’s disgust and horror. He ranted and raved like a loon, and that helped me get even more sympathy from Wanda the fairy god-clerk. But even with her help, I could only delay the ceremony to tomorrow. And Aaron swore he’d bring his own officiant and witness.
The reminder sobers me up. I need to figure out my own Plan B. If I’m not going to marry Edgar, I’m certainly not going to marry Aaron.
Come on. Think. There has to be a way.
My mouth pursed, I start walking slowly back to my place, a hand over my forehead. I focus on breathing because I know when I freak out and panic, I get stupid. I can’t afford to be stupid now.
Maybe I should ask the girls what they suggest. Yuna might offer to hire me a hit man…although I’m not sure if you can hire anybody capable on such short notice. Or even volunteer to shove four jars’ worth of jalapeños in him. Neither is practical. And what can Kim and Hilary do? If I ask my brothers and cousins for help… Well, they’ll beat Aaron until every bone in his body is broken. But that still won’t stop Plan B.
What about Edgar?
He said he’d take care of Aaron. Maybe he can do it faster than planned. But I hesitate. I feel like if I ask him, he might…
On the other hand, I have less than twenty-four hours. Edgar said he wouldn’t pay Aaron off. So what can he do that isn’t as drastic and illegal as contracting a hit man or beating the stuffing out of Aaron? Kidnap him? There isn’t enough time to hire a hacker to destroy all the data on Aaron’s phone and cloud storage, is there? Either would still be illegal, but at least wouldn’t involve bodily harm.
I don’t want Edgar to commit a crime on my behalf. I’ve read the articles about his mother and all the morally reprehensible things she did. I don’t want to put him in a position where he might feel tempted to compromise his ethics.