Page 26 of If the Suit Fits
“Free?” He snarls again, his exhalation hitting my shoulder and making me jump. “Kind of like a bird from a cage, right? Open the door and let it go. If it flies away, it was never meant for you in the first place.”
“Right.” Tears burn the backs of my eyes. Emotion clogs in my throat and steals the hunger from my belly. Instead, I’m filled with dread. With angst. “Exactly like a bird.”
“But if it comes back…?” He presents the sandwich again, but I shake my head, unable to take another bite without choking on it. “What if I choose to stay? Mel?” He slaps my lunch back on the plate and grabs my chin, forcing me around and staring deep into my eyes. “What if I’m not ready to leave? The job isn’t done yet.”
“You can take the full pay.” Sniffling, I attempt to wiggle free from his grip. “Same money, less time spent here.”
“I’d like to finish this out.” His jaw clenches beneath dark stubble I know—I know—feels good on my thighs. “You’re singing about disrespect. Coercion. Unhappiness. All thesefeelingsIhaven’t expressed. You’re putting words in my mouth and stacking assumptions between us. But I intend to finish what I started.”
I lick my parched lips and search his eyes. “Really?”
“Yes.” He releases the tension in his jaw and gifts me a small smile instead. It’s gentle. Sweet. Not nearly as feral as when he’s taunting me. “Iwantto finish this. I know you were raised to think you ain’t worth shit. But believe it or not, I actually enjoy being around you. So eat your fuckin’ sandwich, stop avoiding me like I gave you an STD?—”
I choke out a tearful laugh, a mix of horror and humiliation and silly, light-hearted glee all in one.
“And stopuninviting me to this wedding I’ve been looking forward to all week.” Smug, he presses a fast kiss to my cheek. “You have more color already. Good. You were too pale before. Good in bed, too.” He turns on his heels, smirking as he makes his way to the door. “On it. In front of it. Fantastic, actually. So if you need a performance review once this is all done?—”
“Oh my God! Go away!” I snatch up my pencil and halfheartedly toss it at his back. “You’re horrible, Nicolas Ramos!”
“I love you too, Princess. Oh, and replace the windows with glass walls.” He peeks back with a devilish glint in his eyes. “It’ll look way better than the shit frames you’ve got so far. And when you’re done, come out the back and hang with the bunnies and me. They’re gonna leave soon, and you’ll be sad when they do.”
ELEVEN
NICK
“Ilook like one of those doily dolls you find in bathrooms to cover a roll of toilet paper.” Mel steps out of the hall in what can only be described as the world’s cruelest fucking joke from the world’s nastiest bride.
That bitch Karla stole the groom, destroyed a friendship, traded her self-respect for a shitty guy, and still, she insists on making Mel look stupid on her big day.
“I look like Princess Peach!” she cries out. “But the low-budget version.”
“You are, um…” Sitting at her counter in my suit and with a cup of coffee steaming by my hand, I study the peach-colored monstrosity, with taffeta skirts, shoulder pads straight out of the eighties, and the unfortunateshoop-shoopsound the fabric makes every time she moves. “Beautiful?”
“Shut up!” She storms across the kitchen—shoop, shoop, shoop, shoop—and snatches up my caffeine, tipping it back and chuggingthe blistering liquid like it doesn’t hurt. “I look disgusting, Nick! She’s doing this because she enjoys seeing me embarrassed.”
“So don’t go.” I fold over today’s newspaper and scan the front-page headlines.Ground has been broken on a new multistory building in the city, and the mayor is badgering the developer for a photo opportunity. “Call in sick and stay home with me. Take back your power, Princess.”
“Stop calling me Princess while I wear this god-awful dress! And I can’t take back my power.” She sets the mug down again, slamming it to the paper and leaving a moist ring around the mayor’s face. “I don’t have power. I’ve never had the power. Power,” she announces, her voice squeaking and her energy verging on hysterical, “is not a commodity I have ever afforded. I have to go, and what’s worse is I have to arrive alone. Because Drew is sending a car, and it’s only for the bridal party. Which means you’ll go alone and, hopefully, come find me before I die of humiliation.”
“I’ll come find you.” I act like none of this matters. Like today isn’t weighing on her heart and damaging her soul. If I keep calm, maybe she’ll feed on that. If I lose my shit and rampage about what I actually think about these fuckers, then I doubt either of us will make it to the wedding without setting something on fire. “What time is the car coming to get you?”
“Twenty minutes.” Sheshoop-shoop-shoopsher way to the back door, pushing the ratty curtain aside, and peeks out at the bunny family gleefully gallivanting over the lawn. “Why did they even invite me? Like,” she glances over her shoulder, sadness and hurt gleaming in her eyes, “Iknowwhy. Because society says we have to get along. I even know why she dressed me like this?—”
“Because she’s an insecure, horse-faced hoe who knows shegot the man by lying and cheating. She feels shitty for that, but instead of owning up to her actions and dumping the trash who’d cheat anyway, she’d rather makeyoufeel like shit.” I set my elbows on the counter and smile at the woman teetering dangerously toward tears. “She’s miserable and mean and hates herself, Mel. And you’re beautiful and smart and kind. You’re everything she’s not. And best of all, you’refreeof the guy who dulled your sparkle. She was envious of what you had and set out to take it. But now she has it and realizes how stupid she was.”
“You don’t even know these people.” Sniffling, she reaches up to wipe beneath her nose. “You’re assuming.”
“Am I wrong?” I set my feet on the floor and push up from the stool, then meandering around the counter and setting my hands on her hips, I drag her around and slide my palms up to cup her throat. “Rich or poor, crust or cracker, the sametypesof people exist on both sides of the train tracks. She was never in love with the man she stole. She was in love with the idea of the life you had. She was envious and greedy, and now, when she looks at you, she’s reminded of how utterly lacking she is. So to make herself feel even remotely pretty at her own wedding, she needs to dress you up in toilet doilies and hope no one notices you’re still the most beautiful woman in the room.”
Her eyes well with tears, and when she blinks, that moisture sticks to her lashes and trickles onto her skin. “Go in there today with your head held high and a shit-eating grin smeared on your face. That’s how you take back your power. Wear that dress the way Anna wore César Thursday night?—”
“God,” she chokes out and attempts to lower her gaze. But I hold on tight. I refuse to allow her a chance to escape me again. “Idon’t know how she can be so confident. She just walked in there and owned that party.”
“Which is why she was not invited to the wedding. The bride knows Anna would fuck that shit up. Just as she knows you’re shy and sweet and not likely to make a scene. Shewantsyou to be miserable today, Mel. She would get off on looking back at her wedding photos and seeing your sadness. So you take back your power by beaming in every single one. Flip the bird, make a scene, and make her question her sanity. Because she thinks you’ll hate the dress. So fake it until she thinks she messed up.”
“It’s a really ugly dress.”
“Yeah,” I cough, my laughing breath tapping her cheeks and bringing a smile to her lips. “It’s hideous. But if it’s any consolation, I would still hike it up and fuck you sore between church pews.”
