Authors: Casey McMillin
Chapter 3
Gretchen
The party was going off without a hitch. The people we hired to cater the event were organized and provided easy finger foods for the guests to munch on while they enjoyed the beautiful venue.
Everyone enjoyed seeing the photograph of Collin and Rachel from three years ago when they first met and I was thankful that Caleb was willing to go pick it up. Caleb had been a lifesaver in more ways than one tonight. His being there helped with some tension that had been brewing between Rachel and her new mother-in-law. Apparently, Mrs. Blake was a big fan of Paradise Island. She had been wound up tighter than a rattlesnake at first, but was all-smiles once she realized Caleb Scott was here.
All in all, I was really happy with how the party was going. Everything except for the cruddy mood Joel Perrin was in. He started the evening with a spiteful comment, and every time I saw him after that, he looked at me as if he wanted to see me burn at the stake. I wondered what I'd done to make him so angry with me, but I didn't have time to over analyze it since I had hosting duties. It was no surprise that his date was gorgeous, and I had trouble understanding why he couldn't just focus his attention on her instead of worrying about what Caleb and I were doing.
Caleb spent a while running interference between Rachel and her mother-in-law. I had seen him from across the room, standing with Collin's family. It looked like he was entertaining them with stories. He let me know he was fine by shooting me a wink when they weren’t paying attention.
As the evening started to wind down, I was finally feeling like I could take a step back to relax and enjoy myself. Satisfied with the overall success of the party, I decided to grab myself a drink and go out onto the terrace for a breather.
Just in case something went wrong, I wanted to be firing on all cylinders… so the sour apple martini I was holding in my hand was my first drink of the night.
I breathed in the cool night air and set off on the little footpath that extended below the terrace. I had seen this part of The Mirror Garden during the initial tour, but hadn't had the chance to co
me out here yet.
"Running away?" The voice came from behind me, but I could tell from the discontented tone that it belonged to Joel.
"I'm just enjoying the night air," I said, turning to face him. I could see that he was alone, so I decided to let him have it. "I wish you were enjoying yourself too, Mr. Perrin, but every time I see you, you're scowling. If you're having such a bad time, then why are you still here?" I asked.
He didn't answer the question. He closed the gap between us, and fell into stride next to me. "Are
you
having a good time?" he asked.
I stopped walking, and looked over at him. His dark complexion next to his light eyes never failed to make my heart skip a beat. He was wearing a fitted black suit with a pale green shirt and tie. I had already noticed, during the course of the evening, that our outfits matched. But after the way he'd been acting all night, I was in no mood to make small talk about our clothes.
"Yes Joel, I'm having a good time, despite the fact that I've obviously done something to upset you."
"I almost kissed you, you know. When we were out here earlier, before Celia walked out here, I almost kissed you."
"Well it was lucky you didn't, that would have been an awkward start to your date."
He searched my eyes as if he were hoping to see some of his own angst reflected in me.
"Celia is everything I'm looking for in a woman, Gretchen."
I laughed with no humor.
"That's great Joel, but why are you telling me this?"
"Because I can't understand why I can't get you out of my head… even when she's standing right next to me."
Joel reached out and grabbed me by the wrist. He gave a yank hard enough to make me fall forward, into his arms. My breath hitched at the feeling of being held against his hard body. He smiled down at me, and I realized that was the first time I'd seen one of those all night. Then out of nowhere, a totally different expression flashed across his face.
Are we back to angry again?
I thought.
"I can't stand to see you with another guy," he said, "I'm not okay with seeing him put his hands on you." He tightened the grasp he had around my waist just before he put his head down so his face could meet mine. Our cheeks brushed. He was clean-shaven, but since he had dark hair, I could see the hint of some stubble along his jaw. I breathed in the smell of him. It was an irresistibly natural smell, like sandalwood. That wonderfully earthy smell was the perfect contradiction to the suit he was wearing. He was the epitome of a sharp dressed man in his dark suit.
Caleb was hot all right, but Joel affected me in a different way. I just lost all sensibility around him. Handling me like the putty I was, he took hold of my hair, and tilted my face toward his.
Before he kissed me, he pulled back just far enough to study my face. He made a facial expression that was the equivalent of
to hell with it.
I could see in his eyes when he decided to kiss me
for real
, and just like that, his lips were on mine. I closed my eyes so every part of me could focus on the sensation of his warm mouth. I felt a jolt go through my lower abdomen as a response to the feel of his warm, satiny lips. I wanted him so badly it hurt. I opened my mouth to him, and his tongue thrust into me, making me weak in the knees. I knew he was feeling the same thing because the kiss grew more urgent by the second. His grip on the back of my head tightened as if he would never let me go… then just like that, he
did
let me go.
Joel pulled away and wiped his eyebrows with his forearm in a frustrated gesture. "Damn it, Gretchen. I'm going to end up hurting you." He wiped his mouth with his hand like he wished
he could erase what he just did. After the way he just kissed me, I hadn't expected him to say something like that. The cold words left me feeling vulnerable.
"I'm a big girl, Joel," I said defensively. It was a lie. The truth was, I could
easily
be hurt by Joel. I wanted him for more than a friend. I wanted a lot more.
He looked at me as if he were in the middle of some internal battle. "Gretchen, we both know that we'll go out there and act like nothing happened. You'll leave with The Actor and I'll leave with Celia."
"Does it have to be like that?" I asked, half-hoping he'd whistle for his white horse, throw me on to the back of it and ride off with me. He didn't do that. He gave me a look that I struggled to decipher at first, but then I got it.
Seriously?
Pity?
Oh, hell no. I knew right where this was headed.
I took a step back, breaking the hold he had on me, and before he could say a word about how Celia would make a better wife or whatever… I pulled back for momentum, and slapped him across the face like you see in the movies.
"Don't you
ever
kiss me again, Joel Perrin," I said as I stalked up the path toward the terrace. Now it was my turn to wipe myself clean of that kiss. I used my forearm and the back of my hand to rid my face and lips of every last ounce of Joel Perrin.
Just keep walking. Just keep walking
. I kept my head down and went straight inside to the restroom. I didn't want to stop for fear that he was following me.
I knew exactly what Joel was thinking back there. I'd spent enough time with him to have a good grasp on what he wanted in a relationship. He was an OCD control freak when it came to choosing a mate, as if he could create the perfect life by starting with the perfect girl. I simply wasn't that girl. A romance actress would definitely be listed in the
unacceptable
column.
But you know what?
Joel Perrin and his pretty little plans could just go suck it. It took me all of three minutes to psyche myself up and get my face and hair back in order in front of the mirror. As I looked at the girl staring back at me, I felt a sense of pride at being able to maintain my self-worth after Joel had basically told me I'm not good enough for him.
Joel Perrin and his doctor could go on and have their two point three children with a Labradoodle and a picket fence. That didn't mean I didn't deserve my own fairy tale. I
certainly
wasn't going to stay celibate just because Mr. Perrin didn't want to see me with another man. And why would he even tell me something like that? Did he think I would be his mistress or something?
I could feel the heat rushing to my face as that thought hit me. I was so angry at him for thinking
he
could be with someone else but
I
couldn't. I had to make myself settle down again. I took a deep breath and tried to remember all of the reasons I deserved more than being Joel's mistress.
Fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of the entire room
, giving a speech and making a toast. Collin had already made a speech a little earlier in the evening, but I knew I wanted to say something to cap off the evening and tell everyone thank you for coming out.
There was de
finitely some acting involved, since I was extremely distracted by Joel's unrelenting stare, but I pulled off the excited, sincere party host to perfection. I had given some thought to my speech earlier in the week, even practicing a few of the lines out loud to work on delivery. I told the story of how Rachel met Collin three years earlier and then reunited two months ago in Vegas. I told everything from my perspective and managed to get lots of laughs during the five-minute monologue.
Joel Perrin was
not
happy with the fact that I seemed unaffected by what had just happened between us. At least, I figured that's what was wrong with him. He stood near the back of the crowd with Celia, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but where he was.
Just before I
got everyone's attention, I convinced myself that
I
was the one who was too good for
Joel
, and the rush of girl power I felt from the little pep talk translated into a rocking speech. I freaking killed it with the audience, which simultaneously tortured Joel and delighted Caleb.
I probably should have been ashamed of how much joy I took at glancing at Joel and seeing him more and more distressed as my speech continued. Truth was,
seeing Joel's tense expression was the only teeny bit of satisfaction I got out of that speech. It
was
all a big act. I smiled, and I know it came across as genuine, but I was just as tortured as Joel looked to be.
On the inside, I wanted that kiss we shared to have been real. I wished it had meant something… or at least something more than friends with benefits.
Chapter 4
Joel
It had been a month since I'd seen Gretchen McKay. I still stopped by Triton Advertising once a week or so to meet with Rachel, but Gretchen was no longer there to greet me when I arrived. As far as I knew, she was enjoying her new job at Paradise Island, but I never asked about her. I only got the information Rachel volunteered.
Rachel's new assistant, Bailey, was eerily similar to Gretchen. She was a fellow theater major and friend of Gretchen's
. Rachel had offered Bailey the job when she was at Triton picking Gretchen up for lunch one day. Rachel basically did her hiring based on gut instinct, but so far, it was working out for her. From what I could tell, Bailey had been a good choice. In fact, on the phone, she was a dead ringer for Gretchen.
They sort of even look
ed alike in the face, which would have made things really weird if they hadn't had a few distinct differences. Bailey's eyes weren't the same as Gretchen's, and she had jet-black hair and visible tattoos. She looked a bit like a vintage pinup model. Most guys would consider Bailey gorgeous I guess, but I never really paid attention given the mess I got myself into with the last girl who worked here.
"Hello, Mr. Perrin," Bailey said as I walked into Rachel's reception area, "Rachel called. She's stuck in traffic from an accident. She'll be fifteen minutes or so. You can wait in her office if you like."
I debated the possibility of grabbing a cup of coffee, but ultimately decided to hang around and wait for her. I could use the time to clear my head.
"I'll show myself in," I said.
I was already headed into Rachel's office when Bailey called after me, "There's a remote for the blinds on the bookshelf. It gets really dark in there, and the couch is comfortable if you want a little shut-eye."
I really did consider the idea of making the room dark and closing my eyes for fifteen minutes. I didn't think I could go so far as taking a nap, but a few minutes of quiet sounded nice. "Thanks," I called back. Then I shut the door behind me.
Rachel had a spacious but cozy office. Maybe it was because she was too young to know what a real office looked like, but the girl had a really unusual approach to office décor. It was perhaps the most comfortable business environment I'd ever been in. A wood-burning fireplace and a giant game of checkers wouldn't have been at all out of place in here. There were two oversized couches made of soft leather. One whole wall was covered in bookshelves full of colorful books, games, toys and pictures. I could just move in to this place.
Curious about the collection of books and trinkets, I crossed the room so I could better inspect the enormous bookshelf. Several of the shelves contained framed photos of Rachel and her friends and family. I recognized all of the people in the photos since they'd been guests at Collin and Rachel's wedding party a month ago.
I stopped in front of a small photo of Rachel posing with a character from the musical Cats. I picked up the photo and held it toward the sunlight for closer inspection. The photograph was small, but the frame was heavy and ornate. I squinted down at it trying to make out the facial features of that cat. I could tell it was Gretchen even though she had on a costume and a full face of stage make up.
I loved seeing her in costume, but it just drove home the fact that there was no way in hell I could marry an actress. Maybe it makes me the jealous type, but I could never, in a million years share my wife the way actresses have to be shared. I'd sooner die than say, "Hope you have a good time making out with other guys at work today, honey."
Yeah, that would never happen. I knew I'd never marry her, but that didn't stop me from
wanting
her. I stared down at the photo again, finding myself wishing I had been there the moment it was taken so I could remember the sights and sounds that were going on at the time.
Rachel's office door opened, startling me. Realizing I had been caught snooping, I tried to put
the photo back in its place as quickly as possible. My hasty movements only worked against me, causing a bit of a racket before I could get the frame in its place again.
"That's Gretchen as Bombalurina," I heard a voice say from the door. I hadn't expected anyone to show up for another ten minutes, so I was a little shaken at being caught looking.
"Oh, you mean the cat?" I asked, laughing it off as if I wasn't even really looking at it. "That's Gretchen? I couldn't tell with all the makeup and stuff," I lied.
"Yeah," Rachel said. She crossed to where I was standing and picked up the photograph. She looked up and smiled as if she were remembering the performance just like I was wishing I could do. "Gretchen was amazing in that role," Rachel continued, "I didn't know she could dance before I saw her in Cats."
"She can dance?" I asked. I was being a total idiot. I already knew she could dance. I'd danced with her myself a few months ago at a banquet in Vegas.
Rachel laughed as if just answering
yes
to that question would have been an understatement. "She drags me out to the club once in a blue moon and she is a-ma-zing. People literally stop dancing to watch her. She's had training in all styles." Rachel spoke like a true friend, proud of Gretchen's accomplishments.
I'd managed to keep thoughts of Gretchen at bay during the last month. And now, thanks to Rachel and her office full of fucking pictures, I was having visions getting sweaty with a redhead on a dance floor in a packed bar. Time for a subject change, I decided.
"I'm moving in to my new place next week," I said, taking a seat on one of the leather couches. I rested my elbow on the arm and rubbed my hand over the soft leather. "Would you be willing to help me pick out a few things? I'd be happy to pay you… it's just that the designer I've been talking to picks furniture that makes me feel guilty for sitting on it… way too formal for my taste. I like this stuff." I gestured so she'd know I was talking about her office furniture.
"You mean I get to go shopping and spend your money?" Rachel asked. Her eyes lit up at the idea.
"I'll have the designer choose the furniture for everything else in the house," I said, "but if you could help me with my main living room and bedroom, I'd really appreciate it. I just don't want to feel stiff in those rooms, and I don’t know who else to ask. I figured since we could just get something similar to what you have in here. I love this office." Rachel laughed, knowing her choice of furniture was unorthodox to say the least.
"I'd love to help you out," she said, still laughing a little, "but just be warned, I have no idea what I'm doing."
"No pressure, It's not like I'm trying to entertain anybody fancy. I just want to be comfortable in my own house."
"I totally understand that. I'd be happy to help," Rachel said. She took a seat at her desk and used
the touch screen of her computer to pull up a couple of files for me to look at. "I have two for you to choose from, and I wanted you to see them in person. That way if there's anything you want me to tweak, we can do it while you're standing over my shoulder."
"Which one is this for?" I asked, knowing it was for a magazine but not remembering which one.
"Sports Illustrated, Maxim, Cosmo, People, and Mother Jones," Rachel said.
"Mother Jones?" I asked, unable to stifle a laugh at the notion. "Do hippies use goggles?" Rachel knew what she was doing. I had no doubt that she would make the right decisions when it came to managing the advertising for Perrin Goggles, but Mother Jones? That was just funny.
Rachel gave me a look of mock injury. "Oh ye of little faith. I think we'll see a good response from our Mother Jones readers. My parents read Mother Jones and they would buy a pair." Leave it to Rachel to make huge business deals based on thinking her parents would buy goggles from an ad in a hippie magazine. The funny part was, it would probably work.
I looked over her shoulder again to consider the two ad designs she'd come up with. I ended up
choosing the simpler one. Collin, the National Team swimmer who was the face of my goggle line, was featured in both ads, and looked great in both. But I ended up going with the one that showed him by himself instead of with female models at his side. Rachel, who was not only my advertising consultant but also Collin's wife didn't try to sway me either way. However, I could tell she was glad when I chose the one of him alone.
"I thought I would like the ones of him and the girls that you originally drew up," I said, looking down at the computer screen again. "I'm really surprised at how much I like this one of him by himself. I think it's perfect. I'm so glad we took those extra photos."
Rachel shot me a look of smug satisfaction since it had been her idea to take the photos of Collin alone. She just got lucky on that one because there was no artistic vision involved with her choice to ask the photographer to take the girls out of the picture. She just wanted to get those "hoochie models" (as she called them) off the set. I asked if we could change the accent color in one area from yellow to orange, but other than that, I thought the ad was good to go. "It's a wrap. Send that to whatever publications you have lined up and we'll see how it goes."
"I think it's going to be great Joel," she said, "they're going to fly off the shelves."
"We're already doing pretty good in specialty swim shops, but there's still a lot of potential. I'm excited."
"I am too." Rachel said smiling and getting up to walk me out of her office. She sucked air into her teeth like she just remembered something. "Ooh, speaking of being excited, we're all going out to eat for Collin's birthday. No big deal… it's not a party or anything, we're just meeting at a restaurant to eat and maybe embarrass him a little on his birthday."
"Oh, yeah? How old's he gonna be?" I asked. I had a good idea, but I wasn't positive.
"Twenty-four," she said. "Do you think you can make it?" She was looking at m
e with a hopeful expression, making me feel like she really did want me to be there.
"Of course I'll be there," I said without thinking, "just tell me when and where."
"That's the thing." She winced a little like she had to deliver some bad news. "It's this Friday at seven. I'm sorry it's such late notice, but we just threw it together last night."
"Friday, like two days from now Friday?"
"Yeah." She was still wincing. "I'm really sorry if you can't make it. We've been so busy that I hadn't planned anything for his birthday, but I didn't want to let it go by without a little fuss."
"No, no, I think I can actually make that work. Just text me the name of the place and I'll be there. Did you say seven o'clock?"
"Yep." Rachel crossed the space between us with a huge smile on her face and her arms outstretched to give me a hug. "Aww, I'm so glad you can be there. Collin will be thrilled."
I had already made up my mind to choose Collin for the goggle endorsement before I ever knew he and Rachel would be together, but it couldn't have worked out better. I really did like them both… not only as business partners but as people.
"Well I'm excited about it too," I said, giving her a smile as I turned for the door.
"Oh, and Joel?" she called.
"Yeah?"
"You can bring a date if you want. I think one or two others are planning on bringing someone."
"Oh, okay. Thanks." I said, but her random statement left me feeling more confused than anything. Was that her way of telling me Gretchen would be there and that she would be bringing a date? I decided not to overthink it. It was just dinner at a restaurant. If all else fails, I'll just sit at the opposite end of the table. I'd have to think about whether or not I wanted to bring someone, though.
Bailey waved and mouthed the word goodbye as I left Rachel's office. She had the phone to her ear so I just gave her a wave and a smile on my way out the door.
****
Two days later, I walked into the front doors of Whit's End, the hugely popular Tex-Mex restaurant
owned and operated by celebrity chef Whitney Steiner. I was holding a small gift bag in one hand as I approached the host.
"Are you here with a party?" he asked, gesturing to the bag in my hand.
"Yes, Collin Blake." I said.
"Ahh, yes, Blake party of ten?"
"I guess so," I said, having no idea how many people Rachel had invited.
"Right this way. I think most of the others are here already." I followed him through the crowded restaurant to a giant round table tucked in the corner of the room. There were only a few empty chairs so I randomly chose one to head for.