Page 59 of My Forbidden Boss

I nodded, pretty confident that there was no way I was out of bounds. “Yeah, it was all so that the couple could capture the splendor of the moment, more so because of how special the day was for them. They knew walking into it that they were taking a huge leap, hoping with everything they had got that the memories made that day would last them a whole lifetime.”

Tisha cooed. “Ooh, listen to you, getting all mushy and sweet. Here I was, thinking that you were this big, tough, macho gorilla, but you, my friend, are revealing your true colors now, apparently. You aren’t a gorilla… or a lion… or a tiger, or anything like that. You’re just one big, strong, fluffy bunny, huh?”

I didn’t quite know how to respond. “Well, uh. I don’t know if I would say that, but…”

She shook her head, denying me any say in the matter, then nodded profusely, affirming her own declaration.

I tried my best to maneuver while Tisha laughed, eventually taking us back to the story of how I found the restaurant all those years ago.

“Anyway, it was obvious that the families had put a tremendous amount of meticulous attention into the whole affair, probably planning out all the details nonstop for months leading up to it. And all of a sudden, there we were, a huddle of ragged teenagers. half drunk, unshaven, filthy from hiking and then doubly so from getting under the car… all of us looking I’m sure like a bunch of disgusting vagabonds.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It gets worse. I specifically remember the bride’s eyes, how they bulged wide when she saw us. But that wasn’t the weird part. She didn’t look at us for very long. Instead, and it was practically the instant after we arrived, she looked directly over at her father, terrified, but…”

“Well, of course, she was! Look at you! Unshaven, too? She probably thought you were a bear!”

“No, no… That’s where you’re wrong. You see, she was terrified… but not of us. I’m telling you, that’s the honest truth. She was instantly over us. We weren’t a big deal, or at least not big enough to worry over.”

“Okay… So, what was it then?”

I paused before answering, knowing that there was a chance she wouldn’t believe me.

“Her father.”

“What?! Oh, come on…”

“Okay, okay… I get it. Just let me finish, then you can ask about the whole thing if you want. But I’m telling you, I have all the facts.”

She conceded and crossed her arms, ready to determine for herself.

“She was afraid of him and what he was about to do. In her bright white dress, she immediately started pulling back on his arm in restraint. She was giving him this look like, ‘Damnit, Daddy! You promised! Please, please… Daddy, please don’t start my honeymoon off by dropping a whole bunch of bodies right in front of my new mother-in-law, not on the first day it becomes official. That was not the kind of impression I was hoping for, and, besides, we had a deal! I let you wear your stupid bolo tie, your cowboy boots, and that big-ass belt buckle… I even realized that there was no way you would give up your goddamn gun… and that’s all fine… I’ve made my peace with that. All I wanted in return was the experience of any other bride – wedding day worries like, ‘What if my dress suddenly doesn’t fit?’ ‘What will we do if it rains?’ Why in the world are we trusting the rings to a six-year-old kid who picks his nose?’ Or, like the reception, unpredictable because it consists of a party populated by people you would never otherwise think to mix together, festivities only made enjoyable by the absurdity of questions one might whisper to your new spouse – ‘Why does your creepy cousin insist on hovering around everybody?’ They kept slowly walking down the aisle, him steadily squinting up at us like Wyatt Earp outside the O.K. corral.

“So, what happened?!”

I shrugged. “He didn’t pull the gun. The bride kept going faster down the aisle, like she wanted to get it over with before the bullets started flying. Then she realized that all she was doing was bringing him closer and closer toward us, so she’d slow back down and start pulling at his arm again.”

Tisha looked exasperated. “And…?!”

I pretended to be confused.

“And? … And, what?”

She flailed around for a few moments, but I let slip a laugh and gave up the ruse.

“Okay, fine… I’ll give you the goods, but you probably won’t believe me.”

She looked defiant. “Try me.”

Again, I shrugged, taking a deep breath before giving her the super, super short version that I had mentioned before. “Well, how should I put this? We became groomsmen.”

Her left eye spasmed sharply. For a moment, I was sure that I had broken her.

“You… You what?”

“The cowboy never made a move, neither did we, even though we were right at the front, about two feet behind the last official groomsmen.”

She was mystified. “So?!”

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