As she packed up her stuff, she could feel David’s eyes on her.
“What’s up?” he asked, curious.
“A wedding,” she said, with an excited smile. “My two best friends’ wedding.” She walked to the elevator and pressed the button before she realized that she should probably tell someone important, like Ben, that she was ditching work for a few hours. She tried to find him in his office, but he wasn’t there.
“He’s in a meeting on the fourteenth floor,” said Devorah with little enthusiasm.
“All right, please let him know that I had to leave.”
Devorah looked her up and down. “Why?”
Eva sighed and considered coughing feebly and inventing a scary-sounding illness. Then she thought, Screw that. Ruth and Mark were getting married. “My two best friends are getting hitched downtown in twenty-five minutes, and I’m not going to miss it.”
Devorah looked as though she wanted to argue with this statement, but Eva walked away. She didn’t have time for cardboard box threats now.
Once outside, Eva flagged down a cab and told the driver to take her to the Municipal Building on Centre Street. She looked at her phone. She’d get there in plenty of time, barring horrendous traffic or some other unforeseen disaster. But when they passed a flower shop on the corner of Fifth and Thirteenth, she insisted he stop, despite the fact that it meant she’d lose precious minutes.
“Wait here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
Eva ran into the store, and glancing around at the vibrant colors, felt herself growing overwhelmed by all the choices. What did she know about picking flowers for a wedding? She spotted a flower professional and walked over to her. “I need a bouquet.”
The saleswoman, who was in the process of arranging daffodils and baby’s breath, looked up and smiled. “All right.”
“It’s for a wedding at the Municipal Building,” she explained in a rush, “and I have no idea what the bride is wearing.”
Unhurried, the woman stepped away from the counter and approached Eva. “Then perhaps we should go with something very safe and traditional. Red roses?”
Eva knew there would be very little that was safe and traditional at a wedding for Ruth Haysbert and decided that it would be a nice touch. “Sure. Let’s do red roses.”
Luckily, the woman had twenty perfect buds on hand and she wasted no time cutting and wrapping the stems in a silver length of ribbon. She handed the arrangement to Eva.
“Thank you,” Eva said, pulling out her credit card.
The woman didn’t take it. “And what about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes, aren’t you a bridesmaid?”
Eva had only thought of herself in terms of being a witness. “I suppose I am.”
“Good, so what type of bouquet would you like?”
Eva had no ready answer. She looked down at her boring, conservative navy-blue suit and wished she were wearing something festive. “A colorful one.”
The woman nodded slowly and stared at her collection of flowers before settling on a bouquet of bright yellow, pink and orange gerbera daisies.
“They’re darling,” Eva said as she took the flowers. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” she said, accepting Eva’s credit card and running it through the machine. “I’ve never been to a wedding at City Hall, but I think it’s a lovely idea. So many couples come into my shop and spend hours and hours obsessing over floral arrangements. Not that I don’t appreciate the business, of course, but it does seem sometimes like it’s beside the point.”
“I can imagine,” Eva said as she looked at her watch. Only thirteen minutes left, but she didn’t panic. They wouldn’t start without her. Ruth had promised.
She signed the credit card slip and carried the bouquets to the cab, which was parked illegally in front of a fire hydrant. “All right, I’m back,” she said, climbing into the car. He dropped her off in front of the Municipal Building ten minutes later. Ruth was waiting in front of the building under the arch. She was dressed in white, in a simple sheath dress with pearls and a pillbox hat.
She enveloped her friend in a hug. “You look beautiful.”
“I should hope so. I spent a small fortune on this dress.”
“What?” Eva raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “You couldn’t finagle a designer original from one of your clients?”
“Not to get all traditional and everything, but I thought I should at least own my wedding dress.”
Eva laughed. “Speaking of tradition.…” She held out the bouquet of red roses.
Ruth shrieked in delight. “I knew I forgot something! You are so my fairy godmother.” She took the roses, held them up to her nose and inhaled deeply. “They’re gorgeous. Thank you.”
“And I got one for myself. Or rather, for the maid of honor, which I assume is me.” She gave her friend a comical, concerned look. “It is me, isn’t it?”
Ruth grabbed her friend’s hand and started walking up the steps. “Yes.”
“Good, I’d hate to get into a brawl with one of your other friends on your wedding day, but nobody but me is preceding you down the aisle. I brought you two together.”
“Rather proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
Eva looked at her friend’s glowing smile and felt tears start to form at the back of her throat. “Yes, I am,” she said softly.
They entered the building. Mark was waiting in the hallway with his brother, and Eva threw herself into his arms. “Oh, you foolish, ridiculous man, it is so about time.”
Mark held her tightly. “I know. I know.”
Eva pulled back. “I can’t tell you how happy I am, for the both of you.”
He smiled. “You don’t have to.”
His brother came over. “We’re next, so we should probably go in now.”
The ceremony was lovely and simple and over very quickly. Before Eva knew it, the groom was kissing the bride—and his brother and his bride’s best friend. In his exuberance, he even kissed the officiant.
After the service they hopped into a cab and went to a restaurant in Soho. “They haven’t opened yet,” Ruth explained as the car pulled up to the curb. “Since they’re still working out the kinks in the kitchen, I got a great deal on a luncheon. It’s a fair trade: We get a wedding party, and they get a last chance to put everything in order before the huge opening gala we’re arranging for them next week.”
The restaurant, which was large, with high ceilings, great lighting and distressed-brick walls, was precisely the kind of place Ruth’s agency always represented. No doubt it had a celebrity chef in the kitchen.
Since this was an impromptu reception, the room had been decorated very simply, with glowing candles and white paper wedding bells. The tables had been arranged on one large dais and there were already people milling about sipping champagne. Eva recognized Billie, Ruth’s boss, and Matthew, her assistant. Both were dressed for an informal lunch reception, and Eva couldn’t figure out if they’d gone home to change or if that was how they dressed every day.
“I can’t believe you pulled this off at the last minute,” Eva said, as she accepted a flute from a white-gloved waiter who was standing by the door.
“Of course you can,” her friend said. “This is what I do.”
Before Eva could respond, Ruth was carried away by her boss. Eva turned to Mark’s brother, Alexander, whom she’d met several times before. He lived in the city, on the Upper East Side. They talked for a little while about his business—he sold advertising for a major television network—and his parents, who lived in a gated retirement community in Florida.
“They should be here any second,” he said, looking at his watch. “As soon as Mark told them the news, they jumped into the car to catch the first plane out. I’m not sure if they even packed luggage.”
“They must be disappointed to have missed the ceremony.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “but don’t worry. They’ll make Mark and Ruth do the whole thing again in the spring. Not that the newlyweds realize it yet. They still think they got off scot-free.”
“There you are, Eva,” said a familiar female voice from behind her. “I knew you’d be here.”
Eva turned around. It was Jenny, at whose birthday party she’d devised her plan to bring Ruth and Mark together. She introduced Alexander to Jenny and chatted with them for a while. Jenny had just returned from a buying trip to Paris and was excited to talk about the latest styles. Alexander, whose job never took him anywhere glamorous, listened with a rapt expression. After a while, Eva excused herself. As the lone bridesmaid, it was her duty to mingle.
It was a little after twelve and the restaurant was now crowded with well-wishers. She didn’t know how Ruth had pulled it off. Even though it was Friday, it was still a work day and yet all these people had abandoned their obligations to celebrate for a little while.
Deciding it was time for another drink, Eva negotiated her way to the bar. She had just ordered a glass of red wine when Mark waylaid her.
“Eva, Eva, darling Eva,” he said, snaking an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “I don’t believe you’ve met my boss, Randolph Higgins. Randy, this is Eva Butler, the woman responsible for all my happiness.”
Eva laughed as she accepted a glass of pinot from the bartender. “Surely, Ruth has
something
to do with that,” she said, offering her hand to the editor from
Newsweek
. She’d never met Randolph Higgins before, but she’d heard a lot about him. Mark liked his boss and always spoke very highly of him.
“Yes, I suppose she does,” Mark agreed with a crooked smile. “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen her for a good ten minutes. She better not be in the kitchen again, telling the line chefs where to stand. That woman doesn’t know how to be a guest at her own party. Perhaps I better go look for her.”
Watching him disappear into the crowd, Eva smiled and turned to Mark’s boss. “He doesn’t seem to realize that he doesn’t have to make up excuses to go look for Ruth. It’s his wedding day. He’s supposed to act like a smitten fool.”
“I don’t think foolishness comes naturally to Mark. He’s spent too many years covering war and famine to relax completely.”
“Yes, that’s probably true,” Eva said, eyeing a tray of mini-quiches that were slowly approaching. “I wonder what he’s going to do now that he’s got a wife. I can’t believe I’ve just said that—Mark with a wife! How unexpected.”
“Have you known Mark very long?”
“Since college.” The mini-quiches were within reach now and she took two. “He, Ruth and I all lived on the same floor our sophomore year. I knew him before he discovered journalism. When we first met, he was enrolled in the engineering school.”
“Engineering?” he said, with a look of patent disbelief.
“I know. It didn’t make any sense back then either. He knows nothing about numbers and doesn’t understand most advanced mathematical functions, but he spent two semesters sequestered in his room trying to master quadratic equations,” she recalled fondly. “It wasn’t until he failed calculus for the second time that he finally gave up. I think he chose journalism as his major because most of the classes met after one o’clock.”
“Now, that sounds like Mark,” said Randy. “He’s still not a morning person. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve called him in some far-off place like Marrakech and woken him at ten o’clock.”
Eva and Randy talked for a while, exchanging their favorite Mark stories. She was telling him about her scheme to bring the two together when he interrupted her with a soft whistle.
“Hmm, that’s strange,” he said, his eyebrows drawn together.
Eva, who’d had her eye out for a wandering tray of summer rolls, twisted her neck to see where he was looking. “What?” she asked, when she could see nothing amiss.
“Over there, by the door. Isn’t that Cole Hammond? What’s he doing here? And why is the owner of our rival magazine greeting my star reporter with a hug?” he wondered. “I hope he’s not offering him a job.”
The surprise Eva felt was quickly supplanted by pleasure, and she was suddenly eager to find out why indeed Cole was there. “Actually, he’s with me,” she said. “Or at least I think he is. I better go find out.”
Eva excused herself and walked to the front of the restaurant, where Cole was now hugging Ruth. She got there in time to hear him apologize for being late. “I would have been here earlier, but I got stuck in a meeting.”
Ruth shrugged off his apology. “This entire thing was done with so little warning I’m surprised you could make it. Actually, I’m a little surprised that anyone could make it at all.” Then she saw her friend hovering a few feet away. “Eva, you didn’t mention that Cole was coming.”
Of course she didn’t. She hadn’t invited him. “Well, I guess I just assumed he—”
“There was so much happening this morning,” Cole said, rushing to explain, “she probably just forgot.”
“Well, there’s plenty of food and drink, so please help yourself,” Mark said pleasantly. “We’ll be sitting down to lunch in”—he looked to Ruth—“ten minutes or so, right?”
Ruth made a face. “They’ve had a small incident in the kitchen, so it’ll be more like thirty minutes. Which reminds me, I should probably duck my head in to see how things are going.”
Her husband forestalled her with an arm around the shoulder. “No, you should not. Have someone else do it. You go mingle.”
“I’ll take care of it,” offered Eva, although she wasn’t sure what the task entailed. An incident in the kitchen sounded ominous to her.
Mark sent her a grateful smile. “Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I have a sudden desire to dance with my wife.”
“Before you go off,” said Cole, “I wanted to offer you my house in the Bahamas. I don’t know if you’ve made any plans for a honeymoon, but if you haven’t please consider the house yours for as long as you want.”
At this offer, jaws dropped—Mark’s, Ruth’s and Eva’s.
“Really, we couldn’t,” stammered Ruth, who had made a career out of getting fabulous things for free. “It wouldn’t be right.”
Cole dismissed her scruples with a wave of his hand. “What’s not right is how little the house is used.”
Mark looked at Cole and then at Eva and finally back again at Cole. “I suppose if you’re sure…”
“Positive,” he said. “You’d be doing me a favor, as I hate shopping for wedding gifts.”