The Wedding Game Page 55
“Just had to, huh?” Alec says, his voice clipped, making me break out in an instant sweat. I kick him under the table, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“Why, of course.” Mary smiles, knuckles white on her clutch. “Thought I’d say congratulations.” She stares down at our hands for a brief second, and I tear my hand away, as if Alec has just burned it. I shoot him a quick look; by his furrowed brow, he’s connecting the dots as well. If she says something to Thad, we’re both screwed.
“Congratulations on what?” I ask, my voice shaky.
“On the deal with Marco, of course.”
“Deal?” Alec asks from across the table.
Crap, I never got a chance to tell him.
“Oh, she didn’t tell you? Well, I guess she wouldn’t, since you’re competitors after all.” Mary smiles again, but there’s an agenda behind those veneers—I’m just trying to figure out what it is. “Marco is collaborating with Luna on his new modern bride line.”
Alec blinks a few times, staring at me. I can see the question on his face . . . Why didn’t you tell me?
“Isn’t that just a dream come true?” Mary continues, her sweet voice not matching her cold eyes. “A real Cinderella story.”
“I would hardly call it a Cinderella story,” Alec retorts. “Luna isn’t going from rags to riches. She’s established herself in the industry, and you’d have recognized that if you didn’t keep your head buried in your own—”
“Thank you, Mary,” I say, cutting Alec off before he can finish what I’m sure would have been a flavorful insult. “I’m very excited.”
Still clutching her bag, Mary stares Alec down for a few beats before sticking her chin in the air and turning toward me.
“Yes, well, you should be. I was speaking with Marco the other day about the line, and what he has is incredible. I’m still a little shocked he passed on my idea, but then again, he wanted to make it a charitable collaboration.”
What. A. Bitch.
I realized she was a self-involved diva after only a few episodes, but she’s reached a new low.
Still, I’m professional, and I’m never one to burn bridges, so I plaster on a smile. “I consider myself very lucky.” Then, to get her out of here, I dismiss her. “See you Saturday, Mary.”
“Mm-hmm.” She gives me a slow once-over and then turns to Alec. “See you . . . Saturday.”
And as abruptly as she appeared, she retreats, meeting some man at the door and disappearing into the city night.
“I can’t believe—”
“That’s what you were celebrating on Sunday, wasn’t it?” Alec asks, sadness and anger colliding in his voice. “Hugging Cohen—that’s what it was, wasn’t it?” I nod. He leans back in his chair. “Why didn’t you tell me, Luna?”
“You weren’t in a very good place—”
“That’s bullshit. Just because it wasn’t the best moment of my life doesn’t mean you have to hide your accomplishments. You should have told me. That’s kind of big news, and if it was mine, I’d want to tell you no matter what.”
“I wanted to, Alec. You were the first person I wanted to tell, but I . . . I don’t know, it just didn’t feel right. I planned on telling you tonight. Once we ordered, I was going to tell you everything.”
His tongue presses against his teeth as he taps his fingers on the table.
“Okay, so tell me, then.”
“I’m not going to tell you when you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry,” he snaps.
“Uh, I beg to differ.”
He shifts in his chair, looking out to the door. “I mean . . . why did you just let her walk all over you? She was being a bitch on purpose because you clearly beat her out for whatever this collaboration is. And you didn’t stick up for yourself.”
“Because what’s the point, Alec? It’s not like anything I would have said was going to change her—it just would have pissed her off, and if you didn’t notice, she saw we were holding hands. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s just going to let that go, especially if I provoke her. It was best that I let her insult roll off me. The last thing we need is her telling Diane about us. I prefer Mary ignoring my very existence.”
He licks his lips, clearly not convinced. Sighing, I stand from my chair and round the table, where I sit on his lap. His arm automatically wraps around me.
I sift my fingers through his dark hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was trying to be sensitive. I’ll make sure to never consider your feelings again.” He snorts, and I can feel him relax beneath me.
“I just want to be the guy you celebrate with.”
“I want that too,” I say, leaning in and pressing a kiss on his mouth, not even caring that we’re in a full restaurant. “Trust me, you were the first person I wanted to run to, but given the circumstances, I held back. Don’t worry, next time something big happens and you’re going through something emotional, I’ll be sure to kick you in the balls and tell you my amazing news.”
“That’s all I ask.” He smiles, and I’m relieved that he’s okay, that we’re okay.
“Did we just have our first fight?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “More of a quarrel.”
“Oh . . . so then no makeup sex.”
His brows shoot up to his hairline. “Actually, that was a fight. Huge fight. Giant. I’m . . . wow, I can’t believe we survived that. We should really have the makeup sex—all the makeup sex.”
I roll my eyes and am going back to my chair just as the waitress appears at our table.
She introduces herself, rattles off the specials, and then turns toward me. “I’ll take the salmon with asparagus and rice.” I hand her my menu.
Alec hands her his menu as well and says, “I’ll take the Cobb salad.” He winks at me with such a goofy grin that I can’t hold back a chuckle.
When she leaves, I pick up my water glass. “You’re truly hoping for a three-peat, aren’t you?”
“A boy’s got to dream.”
“Keep dreaming.”
“I will.” He takes my hand. “Now tell me all about this collaboration . . .”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALEC
“What are you doing here?” Thad asks as he opens the door to his apartment. I hold back a wince at the fake powdered cheese caked in the corner of his mouth.
And this man is about to be a father . . .
“Came to see Naomi,” I say, striding past him and straight into his apartment, where Naomi’s sitting on the couch, a giant bowl of Doritos on her lap.
“Hey, Alec, want some Doritos?”
“Would love some, thank you.” I take a seat next to her, which, judging by the warm cushion, is where Thad was sitting. I pick up a cheesy chip and pop it in my mouth.
“Uh . . . what the hell is going on here?” Thad asks, shutting the door and moving in front of us, blocking the TV, which is playing reruns of The Big Bang Theory.
“We’re trying to eat chips and listen to Sheldon be a little bitch,” I say, motioning to the screen behind him. “You realize your torso isn’t a window, right?”
Thad picks up the remote and turns the TV off before leaning over to his pregnant fiancée and grabbing the bowl of Doritos like a true savage.
“Knock it off.” He motions between the two of us with a cheese-covered finger. “This is not a thing—you two have never been a thing—and I specifically told you on Sunday that I was writing him off . . . Naomi,” Thad says. “So what the hell is going on?”
“He told you that?” I ask her.
“He says a lot of things that I don’t pay attention to. Like that he was going to start waxing.” She leans into me. “Think he’s gotten rid of that jungle on his chest?”
“I said I was doing it for the wedding night. I’m not about to let the hairs grow in partially and poke you in the eye while you’re playing with my nipples.”
“Nipples?” I raise a brow at Naomi.
“Loves nipple play, that one.” She shrugs and jabs a thumb at Thad, who looks like he’s about to blow a gasket.
“Don’t do that. Don’t talk about me as if I’m not in the room.”
“Didn’t think we were doing that,” I say. “She pointed at you, so we know you’re in the room.”
Thad gasps, fists clenched at his side. “I am going to scream in about three seconds if you two don’t tell me what’s going on.”
I stifle a laugh. “I thought we could go over tomorrow’s challenge and our final picks.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out some of the ideas Luna helped me come up with this past week . . . while we were naked in bed.
That woman just about wore me out, and I’m grateful for every second of it.
Thad eyes the packet of paper and slowly takes a seat on the coffee table. He snatches it out of my hand and sets the chips down beside him.
He scans the first page, brow furrowed. “These are decorations?”
“Yeah, statement piece for the ceremony.”
Thad studies the idea I put together with Luna: strands of feathers, strung up and cascading behind the bride and the groom. His lips quirk to the side, and then he looks up at me. “Where did you come up with this?”
I shrug. “Just thought of it.”
“Uh-huh.” He looks at the paper again. “This doesn’t look like something you could draw.”
Shit. Maybe because I didn’t draw it.