Boss I Love To Hate Page 14

  He tipped my chin with the flick of his thumb and hummed the beginning of “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright” by Bob Marley, and I had a hard time not smiling.

  He can be cute. Sometimes.

  “Will you stop fidgeting? You’re drop-dead gorgeous with that dress on. Though I prefer you with glasses on, too.” He led us to the front of the church.

  I made a face. “You like the glasses? Why?” The nerdy glasses. Why would anyone like my nerdy Harry Potter glasses?

  “Because … it’s you.” He said it as though it were fact, no inflection in his tone.

  I didn’t have time to contemplate what he meant by that before we were at the steps of the church.

  I took one more breath.

  It’s showtime.

  * * *

  I forced a smile and kept my eyes steady on the door. If Jeff was here, I didn’t want to see him yet. I wasn’t ready, though I doubted I’d be ready anytime soon. I sent a silent prayer to the Almighty above to wait until the reception because it was inevitable. Maybe my nerves would be calm by then. Probably not.

  The insides of my palms began to sweat when everyone’s eyes turned our way—more so, Brad’s way. Every woman gawked—women with dates, married, old, and young—and even straight men, taking him in, sizing him up, and then quickly turning away to realize that they weren’t up to par.

  And, in that instant, I knew that I had made the right decision, bringing him here. He was a showstopper.

  The pews were decorated with an array of pink and white roses, and cascading white tulle swooped down each row. I gazed at the crucifix in front of me and the stained-glass windows that brought in the natural light through every part of the room.

  Though I was practically naked, my body heated as though I were experiencing hot flashes. I shifted and adjusted my dress, centering my neckline.

  “You’re fidgeting again,” he said quietly, dropping his arm to link our hands.

  “I can’t help it. I’m not used to wearing dresses this tight and revealing, and I cannot freaking breathe.” I pulled at the front of the dress again. Honestly, it wasn’t the dress that was restricting the air to my lungs; it was thoughts of Jeff and my replacement.

  Since the runner was already laid down the middle aisle, we walked down the outer aisle and through the side, and as we passed a few people, they openly gawked.

  A few ladies stood at the front pew. They seemed about my age, a taller blonde and a redhead. The woman smiled, a little bashful. After, their eyes perused me. I blew out a tiny breath. I could read what ran through their expressions. What the hell is he doing with her?

  It was so obvious that they might as well have said it out loud, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t really with him.

  So there. Eat that, everyone, with your judgmental eyes.

  Brad ushered me down the aisle, and my eyes zoned into the seat where I needed to be, the third row from the front.

  Focus. Focus. Focus. Keep your eyes on your destination.

  I had one job: to read the second reading about love and marriage and how love was patient and kind and all that jazz, even when I didn’t believe in things like that anymore. A broken heart would do that. It crushed you and changed your beliefs.

  I stepped into my pew, followed by Brad; all the while, his hand was on the small of my bare back. Heat rose from where he touched.

  He leaned into me, so close that the scent of his cologne filtered through my nose, hitting all my senses.

  “You smell good.” With anyone else, I’d be less honest, trying to front it. With Brad, that was all we were—honest and blunt.

  “You look divine,” he dished right back. There was a huskiness in his voice that surprised me.

  I brushed it off. I knew him too well, with his lines and his lusty looks. If I didn’t know him better, I would’ve fallen for it.

  “Breathe,” he said. The warmth of his minty breath brushed against my skin and pushed goose bumps to the surface.

  “I’m okay.” I twisted the shimmery fabric of my dress within my fingertips, wringing it as though I were crumbling a sheet of paper.

  His look told me he wasn’t convinced.

  I straightened when we were seated in the pew, feeling the cold wood behind me, a contrast from the warmth Brad radiated beside me and the heat wave I’d experienced moments before. My eyes perused the beautiful church. The old wooden bench, the cross in the center of the room, the two floral arrangements in the front filled with hydrangeas and gladiolas and roses, all in an array of whites and creams and pinks.

  Kelly, a college friend, waved to me, and when I turned to wave back, my eyes caught sight of Jeff sitting several pews behind me, next to my replacement, her beauty radiating against every light in the room.

  My whole body went rigid, and my jaw locked. Jeff smiled, but I couldn’t. When Blonde Barbie by his side met my eyes, I jerked back around before I could get a better look, and a gut-wrenching pang shot straight to my chest.

  Brad followed my line of sight, sensing my change of mood.

  I elbowed his side. “Face forward!” I whisper-yelled.

  His eyes locked with mine. Then, he leaned in and kissed the tender part below my ear.

  I reeled back. “What are you doing?”

  His stupid smirk surfaced. “What I agreed to do—playing a part.” He pressed another kiss to my cheek and tucked an escaping curl around my ear. “Is that him?” He subtly jerked his head behind us.

  “Yes,” I whispered under my breath, my cheeks burning bright from the lingering kiss. “Turn back around.”

  “I expected better. He’s not all that.” There was underlying disdain in his tone.

  But Jeff had been. He had been all that, my other half, the butter to my bread, the yin to my yang. Until, one day, he hadn’t been anymore, and he was all that to someone else.

  Brad grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks between his fingertips where they puffed out, chipmunk-style. “He’s not.” Then, he leaned in to kiss right by the corner of my mouth, the same place as last night.

  Why does he keep doing that? Missing on purpose? Not that I wanted him to kiss me. It was just odd that he kept on missing the mark.

  Of course—boundaries.

  He wanted to maintain boundaries. Right.

  I was about to say something when the processional of Pachelbel’s Canon in D echoed through the church, and everyone turned to the groom walking down the aisle.

  For a brief moment, all other thoughts disappeared, and I took in the groom walking down the aisle. Tim looked dapper in his three-piece suit, the royal blue in his tie bringing out the gray in his jacket. When I’d met him, he was a lanky freshman in college, skin and bones. Now, he was taller, broader, older. Though college wasn’t that long ago, it seemed as though a decade had passed.

  The doors closed, and the processional song changed. The whole congregation stood. When the doors opened at the entrance, you could hear the whole crowd’s intake of breath, mine included.

  Carrie was stunning with her elaborate ball gown, which cinched at her waist and flared out into a princess skirt. Her hair was pulled up into curls at the crown of her head, and from underneath, her curls hung a mile long, lace veil with intricate designs outlining the edge. Her father, a linebacker-sized patriarch of the family, stood tall right beside her, tears rimming his eyes, which was so unlike his big and buff demeanor. But it was understandable since Carrie was the first of his many daughters to get married.

  I snapped about five pictures when she passed by our pew, and I was so engrossed in her beauty and Tim’s face at the end of the aisle. It wasn’t until after that that I noticed Brad’s warm body pressed against mine, his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me in front of him, his fingers linked together around my middle.

  When Tim shook Carrie’s father’s hand and took Carrie’s hand in his, tears nearly burned the backs of my eyes, for her happiness and for their forever future together.

  And, at that m
oment, I couldn’t help but wonder about my own future.

  One by one, my friends had been trickling off into the holy bonds of matrimony. We were all about the same age—twenty-five, twenty-six. And, for those who weren’t taking the leap into marriage, they were making some sort of serious relationship commitment by either living together, getting a dog, or even having babies.

  That should’ve been me. Or at least, I should’ve been on my way.

  That familiar pang hit the center of my chest, harder this time. I didn’t need to turn around and see Jeff to know he wasn’t thinking the same thing—the what-could’ve-been between us—because he had moved on. Fast and hard with Miss Blonde Victoria’s Secret model.

  When it was my turn to read, I stood on cue, but before I left, Brad leaned in and whispered, “Kick some ass.”

  He winked, and I wiped the sleek sweat from my palms on the sides of my dress. With all the false energy I could muster, I straightened my back and put one foot in front of the other, slowly making my way up to the stairs and to the podium.

  My eyes scanned the room, first landing on Tim and Carrie but then straying to Jeff and my new replacement.

  I cleared my throat, but nothing came out, not a single word. My palms began to sweat like a dripping faucet. I closed my eyes for a quick second and took a deep breath through my nose. When I opened my eyes, they zoned in on Brad, who gave me a little smile, giving me the courage to continue and dimming my nervousness just a tad.

  And I started, “Love is patient, love is kind …”

  I uttered the words of one of the most famous scripture readings of the Bible, my eyes still on Brad, and for a brief moment, all the noise in the room dimmed, and the people and congregation faded to a blur.

  My pulse slowed to an even beat, and my voice was loud and clear. All my attention was focused on the man in front of me.

  When I recited the line, “It does not boast, it is not proud,” his smile widened, which made my insides lighten because proud was the epitome of who Brad was and boasting was his pastime.

  Before I knew it, I steadily uttered the last line. “Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.”

  And, as I stepped down from the podium, I realized that this was also what Brad represented. When I thought of his devotion to his family and how he loved his nieces, this verse reminded me of him.

  I waved to Carrie and Tim when I made my way to my seat, overjoyed that I’d had an opportunity to be a part of their wedding, contribute in this way as a reader.

  When I entered the pew, Brad’s hand intertwined with mine, and he kissed the top.

  “You did beautifully.” He smiled and fingered an escaping strand of hair, tucking it behind my ear. “I love that passage. We’ll have to have it at our wedding.”

  “Har-har-har.” I rolled my eyes.

  We both watched as Carrie and Tim began their vows, pledging their love for one another, and a familiar longing pulsed in my chest.

  When Brad squeezed my hand, the tender gesture had the first tear falling down my cheek. I swiped at my cheek, and when I did, his hold tightened.

  Like an unpredictable gentleman, he plucked tissues from his pocket and handed me one. He said in a low voice, “I Googled what to bring to a wedding.”

  “You’re such a dork,” I whispered.

  Soon, the officiant pronounced them as man and wife, and the congregation was on their feet. My smile could not be dimmed as the groom kissed the bride, and they practically skipped down the aisle and made their way back to the front to take pictures.

  Two sweet little girls with a crown of flowers in their hair passed out little clear containers with bubbles. Blow kisses for the new couple was written on the label along with the newlyweds’ initials.

  Brad followed behind me with his hand on the small of my back as we made our way outside to wait for the couple to make their rounds again.

  “Sonia.”

  I froze from the sound of my name falling from his lips. I’d remember that voice in my sleep, in my dreams, after I was dead.

  I inhaled deeply, turned around, and plastered a smile on my face. So wide that my cheeks hurt from the strain.

  Jeff stood there, almost six feet in height, dapper in a black suit, red tie, and glasses very similar to my black frames. His girlfriend was in a skintight fiery-red dress, which hugged her figure like Saran Wrap.

  My stomach rolled, and my heartbeat slowed. At that moment, I remembered what heartbreak was and was reverted back to months ago when I had cried for hours on my couch. I wanted to do it again, right here and now.

  “Hey.” I pushed confidence in my tone that I didn’t have. There were so many things to say, so many questions to ask, but so much time had passed so that one word was all I had. My whole body froze when Brad slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him.

  “Hey.” Jeff’s eyes immediately flew to assess Brad.

  Funny enough, his girlfriend’s eyes appraised Brad as well.

  “Crazy how they got married, right?” Jeff said, attempting small talk.

  “Yeah.” Not really, given they’d been together forever. I simply nodded. My gaze focused on my pointy designer shoes, a name I couldn’t even pronounce.

  A short silence filled the awkward space between us, and of course, Brad was the first to speak. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” Brad moved his hand lower on my back, just above my ass cheek. He extended his other hand, introducing himself to Jeff and his date. “Brad.” His smile was cocky and confident. “Sonia’s boyfriend.” The words rolled out of his mouth in a possessive, masculine manner that made me think he’d pound his chest, caveman-style, next.

  I inhaled deeply and held my breath because, even though I had this fine man beside me, I wanted to cower and hide and run back home to the comfort of my couch.

  Jeff smirked, but I knew this smirk; it was a tiny, forced smile that told me he wasn’t too happy, which didn’t make a lick of sense because he had dumped me.

  “Nice to meet you, man.” Jeff gripped Brad’s hand in one of those manly handshakes. “I’m Jeff.”

  “Jeff?” Brad spat out the word like it was brussels sprouts in his mouth. Then, his eyes met mine. “Oh, is this the ex?” he asked, pretending to be quiet but fully knowing they could hear him.

  I had to give Brad credit. In his former life, he’d probably been an award-winning actor.

  My eyes widened, but Brad continued. “Oh.” He let out a low laugh. “I guess I expected something … different.” His eyes scanned Jeff’s suit as though he had a piece of dirt on it, and since it wasn’t a designer, it wasn’t good enough.

  My face turned beet red, and blood pounded in my ears, reaching to my temples. Where was my genie in the bottle? My three wishes granted. I’d take one. Get me out of here, being my only wish.

  Jeff’s eyebrows furrowed, and the Barbie behind him cleared her throat. “Jean.” She extended her nicely manicured hand to Brad, not me. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Of course, I’d already known her name. I’d stalker-stalked and Google-gawked this woman.

  Brad met her hand and then dropped it, his face devoid of any emotion. He made it seem like shaking Jean’s hand was a chore. “Have you met my lovely Sonia?” he asked, basically pushing me in front of her double Ds. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Then, he scanned her dress with distaste.

  I raised an eyebrow, throwing him a look. What is this, the Oscars?

  God, this is awkward. I glanced toward the door, but then Carrie and Tim were still inside. Where were the groom and bride when I needed them? I wanted to stay silent and blow my stupid bubbles.

  Jean did a hair flip and then brought some of her long locks to one side. “Hi, Sonia. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  I sensed that it was such a loaded statement, given her condescending tone.

  I shook her hand and couldn’t stop staring at her pink bubbalicious lipst
ick staining her lips. “I hope all good things.” Because that was what I was supposed to say.

  “Yes, omigod,” she gushed, adjusting her dress because she was spilling over the two-sizes-too-small gown. “Even when Jeff and I used to work together, he’d talk about you nonstop.”

  She lovingly gazed at him, and I wanted to stick my finger down my throat and gag.

  A ringing in my ears initiated.

  The fake smile I was sporting disappeared.

  Wait.

  They used to work together.

  Work together.

  The color drained from my face. My eyes were trained on Jeff, but he didn’t make eye contact. Were we still together when he started to have feelings for her? Did he dump me because of her?

  Jeff cleared his throat, looking only slightly uncomfortable. “Yeah, she left when I made partner at the firm.”

  I nodded and gripped my stomach, feeling nausea hit me straight in the gut. We’d still been together when Jeff made partner. I wondered if indiscretion had caused Jean to leave the office.

  I rocked back on my heels, my equilibrium off. “Why did you leave?” I asked before I could even stop it.

  “Complications.” She giggled.

  Jeff still could not meet my gaze, and my hands trembled at my sides as I ran down the timeline of our relationship in my head.

  He wouldn’t. The Jeff I knew didn’t cheat, but the Jeff I thought I knew also wouldn’t have left me.

  Brad piped up. “Funny, when we got together, she never mentioned Jeff once, but then again …” He kissed the side of my neck. “… I’m sure she can think of nothing else but me when we’re together.”

  His hand slipped further down my back, to my ass, and he squeezed, but I didn’t even react, didn’t feel a thing, except for this burning sensation rising in my gut and a fear that my gut was never wrong.

  Had Jeff and I ever been real? I searched Jeff’s face, willing him to look at me when he was lovingly looking at her.

  Just then, the bridesmaids made their way out the door, and so did the bride and groom. Bubbles were blown, kisses were exchanged, and I couldn’t get out of Jeff’s and Jean’s sight fast enough. I walked steadily in the direction of the car, and when I knew I was out of view, I sprinted.