Page 83 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
“Yeah.” I’m surprised, yet not, that he remembers her daughter’s name.
“There she is now, excuse me.” Gregor squeezes my arm lightly and goes to greet Maisey.
“Champagne?” The server offers up a tray of filled champagne flutes with our monogram on them.
“Yes, thank you.” I take one and look at the monogram. It’s nice. Not the font I would have picked, but still nice. I raise it to my lips only to have it pulled out of my hand by Hunter.
“Let’s not have a repeat of last week, shall we?” he says, looking at the restaurant and not me.
“Hunter, don’t be ridiculous,” I say under my breath. “That was a one-time thing. It was my bachelorette party, for god’s sake.”
“There were pictures of you dancing on a table,” he hisses.
“I already apologized for that.”
“Well, I’m assuming we can avoid it from happening again as long as you refrain from drinking.” He raises the glass to his lips and takes a long drink, then turns and walks away.
“What was that about?” Crystal asks, walking up to me.
“That was a control freak going one step too far,” I say, seeking out the server so I can get a replacement glass.
24
Pax
I am fully aware of how pathetic it is that I am spying on Tabatha’s rehearsal dinner. I have no business doing so. It’s just that I’ve realized over the last couple weeks that I think Iamstill in love with her. So, what better way to punish myself for letting her go than by watching her move on?
Gregor has an office in the restaurant. It’s up a half a flight of stairs, and on the way to the emergency exit and employee entrance. It has one of those secret windows where you can see out, but no one can see in. And there’s audio. Don’t ask me why. It was already there when G bought the building and he kept it. The secret window blends with the decor so unless you know it’s there, you don’t know it’s there.
When he told me Slippycock had changed the location of their dinner to here, that’s when I decided to come watch. So, here I am with a cigar and a bottle of Macallan, ready for the show. It helps tremendously that the space is sweet as hell. He’s got a leather couch and chairs, a big screen TV, and a Bose stereo system. There’s also an internal ventilation system so the cigar smoke gets sucked outside before it has a chance to sneak around the restaurant. I could practically live in his office.
I see Tabatha enter alone. Wipplecock has been here for a bit already. Toby Benson, the photographer I’d referred to them, was snapping pictures of the decor and monogrammed napkin holders and champagne flutes.
Barf.
Monogrammed shit is lame.
Wimpycock rushes over to where Tabs is and kisses her on the cheek. She smiles at him with, if I’m not mistaken, a smile that is disingenuous.
Trouble in paradise?
One can only hope.
I puff at my cigar and sip my scotch. Gregor greets his guests, he’s so good at this crap. No wonder people love him.
There’s Maisey. Good. That will keep G happy.
Oh, and what’s this? Simplecock has taken Tab’s champagne away from her and walked away?
Tsk. Tsk.
Stupid man.
Fury fills Tabatha’s face, which is mirrored on Crystal’s once she joins her and Tabby explains what’s going on.
Oh, that man has no idea what he’s in for. Stupid, stupid man.
You never take a woman’s champagne away without replacing it with something better.
