CHAPTER 1 (EDITED)
ONE OF THE first things my parents had instilled in my brain was that in life there were no regrets, there were only lessons. My entire life I had made sure that I tried to stick to that principle. However, some decisions really made me want to gauge my own eyes out. One, for instance, was when I decided to eat the most hideous looking broccoli so I could be the bravest kid in elementary school. The most recent regret I had was the moment I decided that my best friend would be, well, my best friend.
"I can't find my make-up bag," One of the guests screeched at me and I physically winced as the sound made contact with my ear.
I turned to face the voice and plastered on the best fake smile ever,
"All the bags will arrive soon. Why don't you look around until they arrive?"
Her perfectly, probably by a plastic surgeon, plump lips turned down in a frown and she just walked away from me.
I sighed as I looked around me. It was nothing short of a disaster. America's top 1% and some of the world's best were all scattered around the lobby of the hotel that we were all staying in. The number of people made even the most extravagant pieces of furniture seem like a backdrop. The enormous chandelier in the middle, which lit up the area, looked about as big as an ant. I felt a little part of me die when I saw that the plush couches, that were a perfect shade of white, were filled with more people than they could handle.
Everything about the hotel, just from the lobby, gave off an aura of affluence.
What more was to be expected of Mr. Forde?
After having one too many guests approach me as if I were the concierge or something, I decided to finally take matters into my own hands. I made my way towards the reception.
"Hi, is Mr. Davey around? I really need to speak to him." I said to the woman currently manning the desk. But, from one look at her face, I could tell she was new.
How had I known that?
For one, her eyes seemed like they were bulging out of their sockets when they saw me. And two, because she was wearing an "I'm still being trained" stickers that Mr. Davey, the manager, made his new staff wear so they could avoid any bad confrontations like right now.
"H-how may I help..." she cleared her throat before continuing, "you, Ms. Forde?"
I sighed internally not wanting to take my frustration out on her.
"I need the keys to all the rooms. I believe we have booked 180 rooms, more or less." I replied.
She began to type something in the iMac in front of her but she seemed like she was lost.
I whirled around to see Mr. Davey and I could have sworn I had never been happier to see him.
"I have all the keys with room numbers and names ready. I'll be handing them out." He reassured me.
That was why the Southern Californian branch of Forde Hotels was my favorite. The staff was always on top of things (except for the newbies). And, it may have also been the fact that I helped design the hotel and managed it for a while. It was, also, the largest one of our hotels and was built in partnership with one of his business partners.
The excessive amount of people in the tiny area was giving me a strange feeling of a claustrophobia. And, a massive headache but that was nothing new.
Why exactly did you agree to become the maid of honor, then?
The answer to that question was given to me by a pair of arms wrapping around my neck and pulling me into a bear hug. The only thing I could see was a rush of dark hair and someone bouncing up and down.
YOU ARE READING
My Bestfriend's Wedding.Romance
No, this isn't a story about a girl who is madly in love with her bestfriend but he(ha ha) is getting married to someone else while she sits there and sulks about how much she would love to jam to some Taylor Swift and stay depressed for the rest of...