Ah, It's A Wedding Invitation

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"Good afternoon, Emilia." A man said as she walked towards the PO box. He was a neighbor and a relentless co-worker. 
"Well it's certainly an afternoon." Emilia responded dryly, pulling her key out. "What could be bad about today? The sun's out, birds are chirping, its 80°(F)."

The fact that you're talking to me instead of your wife. She thought to herself plastering on a smile. "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, that's all." She lied. 

"That sucks... hey, I was wondering if you were busy tonight?" He questioned as Emilia pulled out her mail and began to look through it. "I have homework."
"Can't you do that another time?"
"No, John. I can't."
"What about tomorrow night?"
"Work."
"Saturday?"
"Reservations with Clint at that new Italian place up the street, can't cancel that again. Reservations are hard to get." Emilia responded, stopping on a pale blue envelope, addressed to her and Clint, with a small smile. It was probably a wedding invitation.

"What about Sunday?
"Work, once again John. How about you ask your pregnant wife out to dinner? I'm sure she'd love to spend some time with you. . . or she will until she finds out that you're trying to get in your co-workers pants, which I will tell her, if you don't stop. I've declined your advances for months on end. I just turned twenty, you're in your late thirties and balding. I'm not interested."

He scoffed as she sauntered off towards the apartment building. 

-

"What did we get?" Clint asked as Emilia set the mail out on the counter. 
"We got bills, junk, and a letter, addressed to us both. Probably for the wedding, I know my aunt Sue's handwriting anywhere."

"Open it then, I need to know." Emilia rolled her eyes. "I'm on it, dork."
"Loser."
"Wuss."
"Doorknob."
"Birdbrain."
"Hey! That one wasn't nice." Clint pouted. 

"Neither was calling me a Doorknob, dingus." She opened the envelope, pulled out the invitation, and read it aloud. 

"Leah and Isabella, together with their families, invite you to join their wedding. Saturday August 25th 2007 at 3 pm. . . p.s. Emilia, will you be my maid of honor? It's a small thing but I'd like to have you by my side — Bella." 

"Holy shit."
"Holy shit indeed." 
"Are you gonna be her maid of honor?" Clint questioned.

"Of course I will be, just means Fury will have to give us a few days off for shopping and shit."

"He actually likes us."
"Fury doesn't like anyone." Emilia responded, placing the letter down on the countertop. 

"Okay, correction, he tolerates us the most."
"Yeah that's more like it."

"

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