Chapter 7
"Getting married obviously agrees with you," said Mama, beaming widely up at me. "You should have taken my advice and done it much sooner."
I restrained myself from the eye roll I felt coming on. There had been one too many provocations in that regard; what with the Longbottoms and the Kays all gathered en masse and squeezed within the four walls of this elegant boutique. I glanced sympathetically at the harried attendant who had bravely taken us all on.
"Don't be a silly, Mama," chipped in my little sister unhelpfully from the back. "Can't you see it is this incredible creation that is making her look so good? Anyone would look good in that. Engaged or not."
I sighed heavily at my reflection staring pityingly back at me. We were both in this together—my reflection and I. We had each other's backs. We would pull through it all together and be all the stronger for it.
I glanced every which way at my figure, clad in the amber gold swath of silk. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't me.
Then again, what was me?
I shifted restlessly, only wanting it all over and done with. I didn't want to admit it, but I had an undeniable urge to rush on out and back into Justin's arms. Things made sense in his embrace. This whole ruckus actually looked inviting when viewed from within his arms.
But he was not here. In fact, he was much to be blamed for my being here and suffering at all. Not only had his mother actually organized the whole dress selecting affair, but she had invited my mama and sister to join in. But the very worst of it was Justin's desertion. He had driven me here then left—simply left me in the merciless folds of the family. How evil could he be? And to think I was actually setting off to marry that, ... that. ...
"Would you like to try on the organza now?" piped in Janet unhelpfully.
Really? Organza?
I would look like a floaty, frothy bubble in organza. There was no way I was letting that fabric touch my person. Janet, as always, only looked at her skinny frame in helping me choose my clothing. I would really do better without any of them here at all. Mrs. Kay had on a matching, amber two piece and was busy staring at her profile. Janet was clearly eyeing the maroon organza for her own petite frame and Mama, ... Mama was still too busy staring balefully at me as if I had done something wrong.
I turned around to catch the assistant's eye. I nodded towards the dressing rooms. Once out of sight behind the curtain folds, I caught the hand of the poor, bewildered woman and tugged her after me to lock us both in the changing cubicle.
I turned then to look at her terrified face. I grimaced what I hoped was a passably comforting smile at her before saying, "Look, you have my measurements now. You know what I look like. And you most certainly know the difficult family I have to please. This is your field of expertise, so tell me what I should wear. No, show me what you think I should wear. I will try it on here, and we'll close the deal." I moved then to unlock the door, urging a swift departure and telling her to be quick about it.
I regretted not asking her to unzip me first before sending her off. Spending much of my waiting time shrugging out of the dress, I was glancing balefully at my ungainly figure when the assistant popped back in, carrying an elaborate creation. It was long, pale, and mustard green, surely the color of the swamp. But the fabric was exquisite; it featured intricate lace and bead works and was form fitting, too. I shuffled awkwardly into its silky depths, with some assistance of course, and was surprisingly pleased with the end result.
It was nothing short of me.
"I'll take it!" I beamed a happy smile at the attendant then allowed her to help me shrug out of it.
Engagement dress down; now, there was only the engagement itself to go. With it only a day away, I didn't have a long wait, for which I was exceedingly thankful, as the butterflies in my stomach surely couldn't be borne for much longer than a day.
****
Dinner was Italian—a quaint pasta place around the corner where the Longbottoms and the Kays gathered to roast in the heat. I lifted the thin fabric of my blouse to fan myself hard as I stared up the stubborn reverse cycle vents overhead.
"Are you sure there's nothing you can do?" Justin queried the waiter sweating profusely before us.
"No," he said, shaking his head before lifting a clutched serviette to mop his damp brow before he added in thick bush accent, "The repairs can only be done tomorrow. It's after hours now."
"Well, we are starving, so at least hurry along the food," said Justin, his own Aussie accent drawing out into a ridiculous drawl.
The waiter stepped back and rushed away to carry out his orders as the table of relatives erupted into an abysmal display of noise pollution. I met Justin's blue gaze over the hub and found his fixed on mine with an unusual serious intensity.
I quirked a brow inquiringly up at him, and he nodded his head toward the exit. I rose immediately to my feet. The outside was looking amazingly inviting at this moment.
We were out the door and halfway down the block, intent on making our great escape before common sense caught up with us. I stopped then to fall back against a cool, brick wall and take in deep, calming breaths. Justin doubled back two paces down and joined me. His stance relaxed as he stood, looking down, drinking me in with his eyes. The sultry sounds of jazz belted out slow and sensual from the club next door.
I stood there, basking in the dim lights strewn across the streets from the pale glow of its neon signboard. The air was still—hot.
The change in temperature was unexpected and then not unexpected. At this time of the year, the glow and heat of summer beckoned. And in the season's change, bitter chills and sweltering heat could both mold together in a day. Today was nothing unusual.
What was unusual was Justin Kay and me. As unusual as night is to day, as frost is to heat, as magnificent is to paltry. Looking at him now, all lazy, smirking, and casual elegance, I was reminded once more of the zumba classes I kept on missing. An utter waste of hard earned money.
Looking at me now, a wicked smile tugged at the corner of his luscious lips, matching the incandescent glow to his blue eyes. He was positively, connivingly evil. The devil incarnate. There was no other logical reason for him being so irresistible. I couldn't possibly liken him to an angel, not after experiencing a round or two in his bed. There had been nothing angelic about him there. And here, in the dark, he was surely a demon. Darkly sensuous and impossibly irresistible.
I shivered.
"You look like you need a hug," he murmured gently, contradicting his handsome devil image. I sighed and reached out to tug him close. It didn't matter—angel or demon—he was all I wanted. All I needed.
His hands were warm on my back, molding me closer 'til he was squeezing me breathless. But I didn't mind. The hug felt great. Who needed to breathe anyway?
Apparently, I needed to if only to stop the light-headedness that swamped me from merely being in his arms. I lifted my delicate nose out of his shirt front and stuffed it instead at the crook of his neck. Sniffing hard at his tantalizing scent, I breathed a happy sigh of relief.
"You're so delicious," I murmured absently.
"You need food," he murmured laughingly in my ear as I continued to nuzzle into him.
"Hmmm," I murmured appreciatively.
"I haven't exactly told you this, but I want you to know ... I am happy ... with you and I. With us. I can't wait to make you my wife."
My throat thickened, and I found myself all choked up hearing those words. It was not a declaration of love, but in many ways, it was so much more.
"I am happy, too," I said simply. I was surprised to find it true. "I am happy with you."
I was, too. In his arms was only bliss. His arms now tightened about me. We stood there like that for a while, held in each other's arms and nothing more. It was warmer being held like this, but the heat no longer mattered. The sweat pouring down our backs meant nothing.
"There you are!"
Janet's squeal was, as always, an annoying interruption. "The pizza is ready!"
We unwound our limbs from each other enough to allow for the slow walk uphill. I didn't notice the slight slope. I was still too wrapped up in my contentment with Justin.
But Janet's next words, as we approached the restaurant, shattered that peace.
"Oh! You'll never guess who walked in after you left. Dale and Linda! Mama asked them to join us. Isn't that exciting? "
I followed silently behind Janet's peppy steps into the dingy restaurant where the mouth-watering aroma of our dinner failed to raise a rumble of appreciation in my empty stomach. I couldn't help turning accusing eyes at the cause of my missing appetite.
"Dale." I bared my teeth in a not so welcoming smile and turned to encompass Linda with the same look. There was no way I was affecting two separate smiles for each of the assholes. They could share the misery of the one I did offer or slink off with none at all.
"Aria!" I found myself in the unacceptable position of being on the receiving end of an unwanted hug from the abomination that was my ex—Dale. Then, to make matters worse, his lips landed on mine in a moist, smothering, puke-worthy encounter.
I was actually thankful to Linda for not so subtly nudging him out of the way to embrace me instead. She dropped me a kiss, too—one on each cheek.
I was seized with an overwhelming desire to immerse my face in disinfectant and get a facial. One from Justin would do. Instead, I pulled the twitch in my cheeks into a wide, teeth baring-grin that hopefully warned them off from indulging in further assault on my person.
"I can't believe you're getting married!" Linda gushed at me with what was surely false enthusiasm. I saw through her and definitely saw through her choice of words. What did she mean, she can't believe I'm getting married? Does she think it's an impossible feat altogether?
I watched Justin get accosted by the two next. He fared much better than I, dodging all slobbering altogether. But that was more by luck than actual finesse. Dale naturally was not about to kiss him. He didn't swing that way. Not as far as I knew anyway. The kiss assault on me had been forewarning enough. Justin niftily sidestepped Linda's advances so that he all but cowered behind me out of reach. They had to make do with a handshake.
I was torn between admiration over his dodging skill and jealousy that he had gotten off scot-free. I shouldn't have to have been the only one who suffered here. But meeting Justin's gaze showed me he was unsympathetic to my plight. While he didn't quite grin openly at my expense, the twinkle of unfounded humor was unmistakable.
I took one of the two seats available. With added company, two more chairs had been situated at our table but far apart from each other. For the first time in five years, I found myself seated next to Dale with Linda on his other side as lucky Justin was swift to corner the only other available chair at the far end.
I eyed his good fortune resentfully. Some people just had all the luck.
Resolving to stay mute and eat fast so that this horrendous dinner would be over quicker, I took my seat with good grace.
In a way, I was fortunate, for Mama had taken the conversation lead, sparing me the need to say anything at all.
But Mama was Mama.
So naturally, she thought it fortunate that Dale and Linda would be there for my engagement, and she went on to express her gratitude for it.
I did my best. I really did. I did my best not to squirm in outright embarrassment over the whole situation, but my stubborn cheeks remained decidedly flushed as I bit into my slice of pizza, opting to demolish it by hand rather than arm myself with a knife and fork. Sitting this close to Dale and Linda made my holding a utensil of any kind hazardous to their health.
The meal dragged on ... and on.
I found, after a few forced bites, my hunger came back with a vengeance, and in doing so, enabled me to blissfully forget the occupants of the dinner table as I got busy eating my scrumptious meal.
I finished my dinner too soon. Eating quickly proved to be a poorly calculated plan, for I found myself stuffed to the brim and idle besides.
The idleness, I suppose, could have been borne but not the full stomach it seemed. Not especially when Dale seemed bent on making conversation and decided on a bile-inducing topic of discourse.
"I am glad," said Dale, grinning warmly up at me.
"I am glad you're getting married. Linda and I have always felt a little bad about the way things ended between you and me, but I am happy to see you're finally moving on. Even if it did take you five years to get over me," he added with a light chuckle.
If that wasn't a puke-worthy comment, I didn't know what was. I didn't want to embarrass myself further and actually relive the contents of my stomach on his well-deserving face, so I gulped down hard before my panicked gaze scrambled away to the other end of the table where Justin sat contentedly chewing the last morsel of his meal. His fork clattered to the plate as his gaze locked in on me.
He was on his feet an instant later before he rounded the table to look down urgently at me.
"My God, Aria! I had that teleconferencing with Houston that I needed to get to tonight. I can't believe I had completely forgotten it. Let's go. I have twenty minutes to get home and online."
I stared up at him, completely bewildered, before I realized this was Justin rescuing me from Dale ... again.
I beamed up a heartfelt smile and was up on my feet in an instant. I bade my goodbyes while Justin dashed off to settle the bill, and then, we were off, arm in arm, with me tottering happily at his side.
I must be unusually dense, for I didn't instantly get it. But after ten minutes or so in the car with Justin, it became clearly apparent. He was angry—with me.
The stiff jaw and crumpled forehead were a dead giveaway. His heavy breathing only emphasized it further.
"Are you, ... are you upset?" I stuttered out meekly.
"Upset? About what?" His voice was hard though he mockingly denied his obvious anger.
"I don't know," I muttered unhappily.
"Don't you? Don't you really? They were walking all over you, and you did all but lie flat on your ass to be trampled on. I didn't like it! I fucking don't like it!" he spat out furiously.
The whole atmosphere became explosively charged in the small confines of the four-wheel drive vehicle. In hindsight, I should have waited 'til we were back home.
"You're exaggerating," I feebly deferred. I wasn't that bad.
"I could have gone out there and bloody stomped on you, and you would have only smiled at me demurely, not even bothering to tell me to stop."
I turned to stare at him, aghast. That made a horrifying picture. He made me sound like a mat. A freaking doormat!
"I'll have you know I have flayed into Mama countless times," I declared boldly.
His chuckle was mean.
"It's not your mama you were freaking besotted with."
That just rubbed me raw. But he had it right. Five years was absurd. Especially for an asshole like Dale. But it hadn't been about Dale. Those five years had been about Justin. Not that he needed to know that. I was already doormat enough for him; no need to roll out the freaking red carpet as well. But as always, my temper got the better of me.
"For the fucking last time, I was not moaning over losing Dickwad Dale for five fucking years. I was too absorbed over losing you to give him more than a cursory thought."
"Losing me? Losing me? You walked out on me. You freaking ran away. You didn't lose me! "
I groaned feebly at that. Word play? We were having our first fight, and he wanted to do wordplay!
"Lose, ran, what does it matter? It's in the past. Let's just leave it there," I muttered quietly.
"If it was in the past, you wouldn't have let him say what he did and get away with it. You wouldn't let any of them walk all over you like that. You would stand up to them," he said quietly with a serious undertone that I found incredibly sexy.
Shaking my head at my inner thoughts, I said in reply, "I don't say anything, because I'm not bothered. I don't bother, because they don't mean anything to me. I don't care one way or the other what they think of me."
It was true; there wasn't a single person at that table I wanted to impress.
"Not even me?" asked Justin softly with quiet menace.
Except him.
The car pulled over to plunge into a drive that led to the underground parking. Justin's place. I was kinda glad we landed up here. Justin's place was way better and more spacious to accommodate a good old-fashioned fight. I threw open the car door as soon as it slid into the park and was glad to escape its suffocating confines. I couldn't believe not too long ago I thought the Evoque luxurious and damnably sexy. But at that moment, both the car and its owner needed my hidden expertise in neck wrangling. Not that I had that expertise, hidden or not. Not that the car had a neck either.
I stomped on my heels, a painful experience, and made for the elevator ahead of Justin, too furious to see the change that overcame him on trailing after me.
If I had looked carefully at the mirrored walls of the lift on entering, I would have seen the anger was gone from Justin's face, and his eyes were trained on my bouncy bum that insistently jiggled with each angry step I took.
But it was my furiously spinning around to face forwards and catch sight of Justin's ogling eyes shooting up to catch the last bounce of my heaving top that sealed my fate.
The doors closed behind him as he stepped forward, crowding in on me. I didn't realize it at first, but when my back hit the mirror, my eyes jolted up in surprise to snag his.
The glint in their blue depths was unmistakable. The sardonic curve to his ever-present smirk became invitingly sensual, and my mind turned predictably to mush.
"You're looking terribly hot. Maybe you should strip," suggested Justin with false casualness. I gasped out loud in bewilderment before my temper shot up to the rescue.
"You'd have me strip here? In the lift? Where anyone could join in or watch through the security cameras?"
My voice rose with each word 'til I all but snarled out the last two.
His open palms smashed onto the mirror on either side of my head with enough force to almost shatter it. Luckily, it didn't. It had obviously been built to withstand—with something like this in mind.
"I don't freaking care. The whole fucking world could see you buck naked, but nothing is stopping me from giving you your just desserts!"
"My just ... what? What are you going on about?"
The rest of what I had intended to say ended abruptly as a ripping sound rent through the air. The air felt strangely cooling and somewhat refreshing, for the instant it took me to realize what the freak had done.
I followed his own astounded gaze to train my eyes on my heaving bosoms. My very much exposed bosoms. I couldn't help it; not the very female yelp of dismay nor the hands that rose immediately to clutch at my torn shirt.
I looked up then to find the blue gaze of my would-be fiancé looking anything but repentant over his actions.
The door behind him clicked open just in time, saving his ass from what was coming to him. Not that the opening doors deterred it at all from happening. Nope, the delay was just that: a postponement of the inevitable.