Page 6 of The Boss and the Wedding Mess
I'm on my way to the company, and according to my GPS, I should be there in about twenty minutes.
A call comes in. It’s Marc, and I hit accept. My phone is connected to the car, and the hands-free system activates with a touch.
"Hey, how are you?" I ask.
My best friend was actually supposed to call me earlier, but I completely understand that he wanted to enjoy his wedding night and the following Sunday. The interruption during theceremony had been catastrophic enough. Stephanie had nearly called everything off and walked away but fortunately, we were able to salvage the situation, and everything turned out well in the end.
"Better," he mumbles and yawns. "Stephanie's still asleep. I snuck out."
"I'll be at the office in about twenty," I announce.
"I don't plan on talking your ear off for that long." Marc chuckles. In the background, there's clattering and clicking. He's probably making himself coffee. "Man, what a night. And the one before wasn't bad either," he admits, amused. "Your tip was worth its weight in gold," he adds.
"Told you so," I reply with a broad grin.
They’d both abstained from sex for a month and even slept in separate beds. They definitely had a lot to make up for in the two nights after the ceremony.
"But she brought up that crazy woman again. I think she's still a bit unsettled. What am I supposed to do now?"
He sounds a little annoyed, but mostly just as insecure as his wife is.
"I memorized the license plate but my buddy from the police hasn't gotten back to me yet,” I tell him. “He doesn't start his shift until later today. As soon as I find out who she is, I'll pay hera visit. It would be best if she apologizes to Stephanie personally and clears up the situation."
"If a guy had shown up, I'd probably have doubts too. Honestly. I really understand where she's coming from."
"Trust is good, control is better," I quote.
"Man, I would never cheat on her. She's my dream woman," he gushes and then adds: "I would fall apart if she started something with another guy."
"That's called love," I say as I stop at a red light. The traffic in London is a disaster, but not nearly as bad as in New York. But I had a driver there.
That’s what I get for wanting to drive myself to be more independent and take my favorite sports car.
"Yeah," he says dreamily, which makes me smile.
"If the marriage lasts, don't forget my medal," I remind him. "A bet's a bet."
I’d been convinced the two of them would make the perfect couple, and he thought their relationship wouldn't last three years. After eight months of them dating and right before a romantic wedding, we’d changed the terms to three years of marriage. If they divorce before that, he wins. If not, I get a medal that he’ll get made for me. "It has to be gold," I place my order.
"And so heavy it'll knock you to the ground," Marc says, laughing. The coffee maker in the background starts to rattle.
"I'll work out even harder so I can wear it with pride," I joke and continue driving.
"I want to thank you again, Alex," he says, then adds with a slightly melancholic tone: "For introducing me to Stephanie and setting us up, and of course for the financial jumpstart. Without you, I'd still be a single loser who gets rejected by banks. And now? Look at me. I'm living like a king."
"A king who still uses the coffee maker from his student days."
I'd recognize that rattling and clicking anywhere.
"It does what it's supposed to," he defends the old thing.
"That alone should be proof enough for Stephanie. You don't easily part with things that mean something to you."
"I'm just afraid if I compare her to my coffee maker, she'll be damn mad."
Yeah, he should probably avoid that.
"I better make sure I'm on time. My father hates it when people are late, and especially if it's me."
