Do You Take This Man (3)
“Good luck with that.” Without another word, I turned to walk away, but not before deciding I could truly go against everything my gut told me to do, to hammer that last nail in the coffin of the old me. I called over my shoulder, “You know, you should smile more.”
I regretted it immediately. My sister would have my ass on a plate if she knew I’d uttered those words. I thought briefly about turning back to apologize, but I was already pressing my luck after getting lost. My phone buzzed in my pocket again, no doubt my cousin.
I pushed the woman from the sidewalk out of my mind and reminded myself that being a nice guy was not on my priority list anymore. I’d probably never see her again anyway.
* * *
? ? ?
THE VENUE HAD been a bank once upon a time, and the old architecture framed the entryway. Following a complete renovation years ago, it was an event space now and today would host a wedding rehearsal. I wondered if the vault was still in place and if anyone held parties there.
Lear: I’m here and waiting for them. Fear not.
Penny: You’re my favorite cousin, but if you fuck this up, I’ll end you.
Lear: Noted. Love you, too.
The door opened, letting in a swath of sunlight. A pang of anxiety hit me that it might be the woman from outside, and I ducked my head, intent on examining the pattern on the marble floor. Instead of the angry growl someone had briefly introduced me to outside, a voice that sounded more like chirping filled the space.
A stylish younger woman chatted with an older woman, both adjusting their blond hair. Catching my eye, the younger woman beamed. “Are you Penny’s cousin? She said you’d be tall and well dressed and, oh my, you are. How lovely. She didn’t say you’d be so good looking, but of course you are.” She talked without pause, her words flowing from her nervous laughter. I flashed an easy smile at Melinda and Victoria Matthews, daughter and wife of Richard Matthews. The family apparently owned one-third of North Carolina.
“Nice to meet you,” I said smoothly, taking the younger woman’s hand. “Lear Campbell.” I wanted to make a good first impression, but I also wanted her to stop rambling. From what Penny said, the bride wanted to copy and paste that next day’s wedding, but we wanted her to feel like she was just getting inspiration. Her wedding was over a year away and it seemed silly to be concerned with how the rehearsal venue’s lobby and gardens might work, but Penny’s words played in my head. Make them feel special. Don’t disparage any idea they love, no matter how bad the idea is. Make it seem like you can move mountains. She’d also added Don’t make that face, but I was fairly certain that was her being my older cousin and not my boss.
“This is so beautiful!” Melinda twirled around in a circle, looking at the space. She also seemed to end every sentence with an exclamation point, her voice high and excited. She reminded me of a teenager or a terrier.
“It’s a beautiful venue. You chose well.” My compliment on her excellent taste was met with a beaming smile from both mother and daughter. Penny didn’t give me quite enough credit. It wasn’t like I didn’t have to schmooze and make people feel important working in professional sports. “We can visit the gardens. That space isn’t in use now.”
“We are just so excited. I can’t believe—” Her voice halted and her eyes grew wide.
Over my shoulder, I saw the woman from the sidewalk hurry out of the restroom across the vestibule. I snapped my head down before she caught my face. She’d put herself back together, clothes straightened and her hair, which had come loose when she fell, pulled back into a bun that showed off her neck. She had a nice neck. She was short but in sky-high heels and a black dress that subtly highlighted her rounded curves. She looked better when she wasn’t scowling at me from the ground. It was a wonder I hadn’t seen any of that outside. Well, maybe not a wonder. She was pretty adamantly insisting I was an asshole at the time.
“Mom,” the girl hissed. “That’s her! The woman who performed Alejandro’s wedding! I love her.” Mrs. Matthews followed her daughter’s gaze.
“Who is Alejandro?” Her voice was sweet and slow. Her accent reminded me of my aunt, and I smiled, also interested to learn why the bride knew who the woman from outside was.
“Alejandro Calderón proposed to George O’Toole in the park and it was totes cute, just, like, all the feels. Their families were there, and he said all these nice things. Mom, I was seriously bawling.” The woman bounced on her heels, her energy like a gale force wind.
“Melly, you know I don’t know who those people are,” her mother interjected.
I’d been in a hole for almost a year and even I knew who they were. The two men had played opposite each other in a superhero epic a couple years earlier, and when the country’s new favorite hero and most reviled fictional villain started dating, it was big news.
Melinda fiddled with her phone and held it out to her mom. “You remember. They were in the Interstellar Man movies. I had the biggest crush on Alejandro when I was a kid and had all these posters.” She took a breath, and I slid into the conversation, because this was taking us way off course.
“Weren’t those movies great?” I asked smoothly, sidestepping Melinda’s trip down Middle School Crush Lane. “So, they got married?”