My collection of fanfiction stories ~ Gallagher Girls

Tik Tok- Chapter 3

The wedding was today and we had made finally arrived in New York. It was a beautiful day in June, sunny with a slight cool breeze. As we landed the jet next to the other jets, two men in black suits and dark shades that concealed their eyes approached.

The taller but less beefy of the two spoke, "I'm going to have to ask the two of you to move your jet. Only authorized personnel are allowed to park here."

Tom and I shared a knowing look, before I into my jeans and pulled out my wallet and opened to show them my official badge that said I worked for the CIA.

Both men removed their sunglasses, their eyes widening. "You'll have to excuse us, Mr. Goode, we didn't realize." The shorter one said. With a curt nod, Tom and I started to walk away.

I turned as a sudden thought struck me, "Hey! Any one of you know where St. Paul's Cathedral is?" remembering the location of the wedding from the invitation.

"At the end of the street take a right, turn left at the second light and you're there." They both responded.

"Thanks."

"So what time does the wedding start?" asked Tom, glancing at his Rolex.

"Five o'clock." I responded as we made our way down the street.

"Good. That means we have seven hours to book a hotel, rent a car, buy some suits and maybe do some sightseeing." With that he pulled out his cell phone and proceeded to speak to the person on the other end. After a few minutes, he shut his phone.

"There should be a car coming to get us in a few minutes and I've booked us two rooms at the Hilton Hotel." Ten minutes later a yellow Limbergeni stopped in front of us. Tom hopped into the front seat and I sat in the back.

Taking out my Blackberry, I searched for the closest Men's Warehouse and entered the address into the GPS. Stepping out of the car, we casually made our way into the store. We were greeted by rows after rows of suits, dress shoes, sunglasses, and sports apparel.

A tall bald man who looked like he was is in his mid-forties came up to us and said, "Hello Gentlemen. What can I help you find today?"

"We're looking for formal wear. Suits, ties, shirts, socks, shoes, etc." I responded

"Any particular occasion?" he asked.

"We're actually attending a wedding later today." More like stopping a wedding.

"Actually, I know just the suits. We just got a new order of Christian Dior suits today." He said leading us towards the center of the store. We came to stop in front of a stack of suits folded neatly. "Well I'll let you look around, Gentlemen and when you've found something you like, you can call Christina over." He said. We looked over to see a red-head standing a couple of feet away from us helping out another customer.

"Thanks." Tom said, speaking for the first time since we entered the store.

After a few minutes of looking around, we both managed to find suits we liked. I had was stuck deciding between a black suit, lavender tie, black socks and, dark shades or black suit, green tie, green socks, and no shades. Eventually I decided on the black suit with the lavender tie. Tom was wearing a white suit, black dress shirt, pink tie, and shades.

Christina came over then. She cocked her head to the side, one hand under her chin. "Mmm. I like it." She said smiling.

With Christina's approval, we paid for our stuff and headed out the door. After looking up the hotel and seeing it was not very far, we decided to find a place to eat. We chose a French restaurant called Chez Claude. It was a small, elegant restaurant. We sat at one of the tables outside, talking about everything but the wedding.

I was about halfway through my sandwich made with French baguette when I choked.

Sitting three tables away from us were Cammie and a very tan man whom I took to be her fiancé, seeing that one hand was laid casually around the back of her chair and the other intertwined with hers, resting on her thigh. If that didn't tell me, then the engagement ring on her finger definitely would have.

I cursed under my breath or at least what I thought was under my breath. Tom's head snapped up.

"What?" he asked inquisitively, while eating his chocolate fudge cake. When I didn't answer his eyes narrowed and he looked at me expectantly.

"Cammie."

As soon as I breathed her name, several things happened simultaneously: Cammie looked up, Tom turned around and stared, and a waiter passing by seemed to trip over his own feet and spilled water on Cammie's fiancé.

"I'm sorry." The waiter said, looking around for napkins to clean the mess. Not wasting anytime, I pulled on my shades, tossed a few twenty dollar bills on the table and made my way towards the parking lot. As soon as I was safely inside the car, I ran my hands through my hair and sighed. This was just great.

A few minutes later Tom walked out holding a Styrofoam carton. "What's in that?" I asked, not able to hold back my smirk. Tom grinned.

"You didn't think I would leave without my cake, did you?" Tom said with a grin. We drove to the hotel. Opening the door, I saw that the "room" Tom had booked was actually a suite, which suited me just fine. I saw down on one of the King-sized beds, taking off my shoes. What was the point of me coming to New York anyways? Cammie was obviously happy with this guy and judging by the size of the ring on her finger, he could give her a lot more than I ever could. He probably made more money in a week, then I did in a year and that was saying something, seeing that CIA agents were one of the best paid people in the country.

"I can't do it." I said out loud.

"Do what?" Tom said, who lying on his back.

"Stop this wedding. It's not right. Besides, she's happy." I said shrugging.

"Happy? Come on, the expressions she was conveying weren't nearly as happy as when she is with you."

"I don't know, Tom."

"Just sleep on it, kid. You'll do the right thing." He said, his voice already becoming distant to my ears.