Her Maid of Honor (gxg)

Day 54 - Jess

Ow...

My head was throbbing in sharp consistent increments as I slowly rolled my lifeless body off of the cold leather couch situated in the middle of my living room beside another one identical to its own, and landed on the even colder hardwood floor beneath me. Fuck!

I couldn't recall the last time I had gotten that plastered and recalled even less of the night. The last thing I remembered was getting into the taxi cab only to wake up here still fully dressed in my attire from yesterday – minus a shoe which I located upside-down on the kitchen table as I struggled to get up. How I successfully managed to make it into my condo was far beyond my comprehension, quickly realizing that I was still partially intoxicated from last night's shots of Jack.

I reached for the phone that had clearly been tossed onto the coffee table and flipped it over to find 9 missed calls, 12 unread messages, and 4 new voicemails, all awaiting responses that I still was too far from sober to give. Dropping the phone back onto the tabletop with a loud clunk as it hit the surface, I stumbled away heading towards the kitchen to locate the bottle of Aspirin and a clean glass instead.

Settling on the only coffee mug that didn't already contain some sort of liquid remanence of a previous drink from my fridge, I opened up the kitchen tap to the furthest setting and allowed the water to run ice cold before topping up the mug completely, only to down the entire thing – painkillers included – in 5 gulps or less. Topping it up again, I took a few smaller sips before returning to the couch with the coffee mug still in hand to where the flashing screen of my phone illuminated the floor beneath the see-through glass of the table.

Danny, Danny, Danny, Marcus, Marcus, Albert, Marcus, Marcus, Marcus... Ughh! I grunted out in sheer aggravation as I realized that majority of the calls had come from the store. I swear to god, if they set Jay's store on fire... I thought to myself, hitting redial in order to figure out just what exactly they wanted from my life 2:30 in the afternoon.

"Jess!" The relieved voice rang through the other end.

"Marc, what is it?" I asked directly, not really feeling in the conversational mood.

"Albert wants to move the pickup date to this Friday!" The utter panic in his voice seemed to sober me up entirely as his words fully sank in. "He said he's coming this afternoon to view the merchandise before his flight leaves—"

"Wait," I cut him off, standing up from the couch too abruptly for the oxygen to reach my brain, swaying slightly as a result before able to refocus on the issue at hand. "He knows I need at least 24 hours before I can show anything—"

"I know! That's what I told him, but—"

"Fuck!" I shouted back into the other end of the line, propping up the phone between my right ear and my shoulder in order to regain the use of both my hands. "Ok," I said, quickly devising a plan in my head to deal with the very problematic situation while simultaneously rushing around my suite looking for everything I needed to jump in the shower, get dressed, and out the door in under 15 minutes or less. "If he shows up, hold him off," I directed, "I'll be there in 30."