Maddy and I sipped daintily on Cristal champagne as we wandered around the lush garden estates of our accounting firm's head partner. The soft music from a string quartet drifted among the roses as guests sipped champagne and nibbled on hors d'oeuvres while waiting for the reception to start.
The wedding of the mayor's daughter to the son of Chicago's most successful accountant was dubbed the biggest social event of the year. Everyone who was anyone was going. I hadn't known that Maddy and I were considered to be anyone until the day the invitation arrived. It felt good to be someone.
We had been invited because our accountant happened to be one of the rising stars at that particular accounting firm, as well as the fact that our little business was making waves in the travel industry. We were starting to receive recognition for our innovative approach to travel and there was no way Maddy and I were going to say no to a wedding predicted to cost well over a million dollars, even if we had no idea what to get them as a gift.
“Did you hear who is here?” Maddy whispered as we walked through an archway covered in roses.
“Who isn't here? I saw that actor you like,” I whispered back. I felt like we were sneaking around the property. Despite having rented two designer dresses and getting our hair and makeup done professionally, I still felt like we didn't belong. I had this horrible premonition that security was going to find out we were there at any moment and throw us out. I had the invitation with our names on it in my purse, ready to whip out and show anyone who asked.
“I saw him, but I'm talking about Logan Hayes,” Maddy said as we headed to the top of a grassy hill overlooking the main courtyard.
“I guess I'm not terribly surprised,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. Just his name made my heart start to pound. It had been a year since I had slept with him. Not even a phone call... the bastard. He was mysteriously “out on a business trip” every time I called his office. Luckily, with Maddy around, I had moved on to other, more important things. He wasn't worth my anxiety or heartache. I was completely over him. Totally.
“I thought you hated him and were going to punch his lights out the next time you saw him?” Maddy quipped.
“Oh come on, Maddy, that was months ago,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “Eons, really.”
“It was last week.” She paused between two bushes covered with yellow flowers and gave me a very knowing look that I did not appreciate.
So maybe I wasn't completely over him.
“Okay, so maybe I still have some issues,” I conceded. “But, this is a wedding. I can behave. Besides, I've had a year to cool off. He's not worth the effort of being angry. Besides, what are the odds that we'll even run into him? There are hundreds of guests here!”
“Right.” Maddy gave me a skeptical look and downed the last of her champagne. “I'm going
to get some more of this liquid gold goodness. You want some more?”
I held up my still mostly full glass. I didn't see what she found so special about it. It just tasted like plain old champagne to me. Dom Perignon tasted better anyway. “I'm good, thanks. I'll just wait here for you.”
Maddy nodded and headed off toward the main house where the bar was set up. I sipped on my champagne again and looked out at the house and gardens. Below me in the main courtyard, the happy bride and groom were walking onto the stage. They looked so blissfully in love.
“Enjoying the champagne?” a deep voice from my dreams asked from behind me. I shivered with simultaneous want and anger. I knew that voice. I turned slowly, almost afraid that I was dreaming, but there stood Logan Hayes.
The first thing I noticed wasn't the dark blue designer suit that fit him like a glove, or the way all his hair but one stray curl was smoothed back, or even the scent of his cologne; no, it was that he looked tired. His eyes didn't have quite the luster I remembered and he looked thinner. For one whole second, I hoped he wasn't sick, but then I remembered that I'd sooner have wished him dead.
“Better than Dom,” I lied. My heart was pounding like that of a petrified rabbit. I had envisioned this moment constantly for the past year, but now that it was here, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I wanted to hit him for what he did and kiss him because I wanted more. “What are you doing here?”
“I know the bride. She and I went to high school together once upon a time, and we even tried our hand at dating one another,” he replied. “We decided we were much better off as friends.”
“Do you know the groom, then?” I asked courteously, sipping mechanically on my champagne and trying not to panic. Slowly, though not without a fight, my anger toward him was giving way to my desire to kiss him, to run my fingers through his hair, to trace the words in his tattoo. I wanted him to not look so damn tired.
“I introduced them. Poor guy never thought he would get a girl like her, but they're perfect for each another. I get to claim matchmaker. It took a little time, but they're very happy they worked it out. It's really a sweet love story,” he said with a genuinely happy smile. He stepped back and looked me up and down. “You look fantastic, by the way. Stunning, really.”
“Thank you.” I could be polite. I wasn't even thinking of punching him. Maddy would be shocked. “Is the rest of your family here too?”
“My brother is around here somewhere. He almost wasn't invited,” he replied, glancing over toward where the music was coming from. “But Aiden knows how to apologize when he screws up. My father doesn't and as such wasn't invited.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.” I was secretly glad. Logan's old man could stuff it where the sun don't shine.
“Don't be. He is prone to doing things that make him very unpopular.” Logan shrugged. There was a back story I knew I was missing, but I didn't want to ask. I hoped Maddy would hurry up and get back so I could leave. Being this close to him was hard. Especially when he smiled.
I sipped on my champagne and smiled politely. If this was how the rest of our interactions were going to go, I could live with that. I knew that we would be running into one another, given our similar businesses and social obligations. Maybe, if we kept having these nondescript encounters, I would forget the ache in my heart. Maybe I would stop searching for his picture in the paper every morning just to find out what he was doing. Maybe I would stop missing the something we almost had.
“I also hear that your business is taking off,” he continued, taking a step closer. “I knew it would. Congratulations.”
Now I wanted to punch him. He had to bring that up and rub it in. I found my anger again and hated that I had lost it for even a moment. Damn him and his stupid smile making me forget how he never called. Damn him and his father for making me scramble to save my livelihood.
“No thanks to you or Travel, Inc.,” I replied with just a touch more venom than necessary.