Scot on the Rocks Page 19

  I stood up and smoothed out my dress as I made my way to the vanity mirror. I couldn’t stop myself from giggling and looking back at him, still sitting on the couch. As I applied some lipstick to my pout, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jack staring at me. He looked like an old-time movie actor, like Cary Grant or Humphrey Bogart reincarnate, communicating everything he felt with just one look. Except I don’t think that Grant or Bogie ever wore a skirt. But you get where I was going with that one.

  “Ready for some more lies and deception?” I asked, turning away from the mirror, hoping that I looked like an old-time movie star myself. Audrey Hepburn, I hoped, but I can’t say that Audrey ever wore a number quite as revealing as my Halston.

  “Let the games begin,” he said, putting his arm out for me to take.

  “Oooh, that was good,” I said, marveling at the accent, which was maturing quite nicely. “You are getting really good at this. Admit that you’re kind of enjoying doing the accent.”

  Jack smiled. I wished that I could have frozen time at that very moment. It was that delicious stage in a relationship where anything seems possible. I wished that I could take a photo of us right then and there — Jack looking at me adoringly with the smile of a man who knew how to get what he wanted, and me gazing up at him as if he were my hero. I was so happy at that precise moment. Such unadulterated happiness. That sort of thing never lasts, does it?

  We should never have left the bridal suite.

  We walked out of the room, holding hands, and the second we looked up, Douglas appeared and grabbed me like a caveman.

  “Mind if I borrow her,” Douglas said in his American accent, “dude?” He didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing my arm and leading me out onto the dance floor. I was shocked that he didn’t knock me on the head with a stone and drag me out to the dance floor by my hair. His grip was so tight, I was certain that it would leave a mark. Jack began to follow us, but I turned around, putting my finger up as if to casually say “I’ll be back in just one short moment.” Jack reluctantly backed away. I hoped that he knew that I just needed that one short moment to rid myself of Douglas so that I could get back to him.

  “For fuck’s sake, would you mind telling me what’s going on?” Douglas asked.

  “Obviously, you’ve figured it out by now,” I said, keeping a smile plastered on my face so that anyone who saw us would think we were just two regular wedding guests, dancing around and having a pleasant conversation. Not a cheating cad and his ex having a most decidedly unpleasant conversation.

  “And, obviously, you have completely lost your mind.”

  “I’m not the one who flew out to L.A. to stalk me,” I said.

  “I was invited to this wedding,” he informed me.

  “I kind of thought it was assumed that you were uninvited when you announced that you were sleeping with someone else, were getting engaged to said other woman, and then threw me out of our apartment.”

  “I was trying to be romantic, coming out here and surprising you,” he said, turning his eyes on. The earnest eyes. The “would I lie to you?” eyes. Did he really think that after all that we’d been through, I would fall for the eyes?

  “Well, you’ve partially succeeded. I certainly am surprised.”

  “Aren’t you at all happy to see me?” he asked.

  “Well, seeing you again at least gives me the chance to tell you that I never want to speak to you again,” I said with a smile. Mr. and Mrs. Martin could see me from across the dance floor and I didn’t want to give them any cause for concern. Mrs. Martin waved at me. I smiled and waved back at her.

  “Brooke, you can’t mean that. There’s not even a little part of you that’s happy to see me?” He was obviously getting desperate, now turning the sad puppy eyes on. Once upon a time, that look used to work on me, too. I used to think that he really meant it and would forgive him for whatever he’d done. Now, I just saw it for what it was — manipulation to keep me under his control. I was surprised at how quickly he had lost his effect on me. It was as if I could turn it on and off the way you would change the channel on a particularly bad made-for-TV movie.

  “You. Are. Fucking. Wearing. Pants.”

  “I thought that you wanted me to,” he said.

  “I do. I did,” I quickly corrected.

  “Well, then, better late than never, I say.”

  “Look, if this were only about the pants, this probably would be a very touching gesture, but the fact remains that it is not,” I said.

  “We’ve broken up,” he told me. I wondered why he was informing me of this very, very obvious fact. Did he think that I hadn’t noticed that we’d broken up? Did he think that I thought that people who were still an item kicked each other out of their apartments and got engaged to other people? Did he think that people who weren’t broken up were busy making out with their best friends at their ex-boyfriend’s weddings? Were people accusing us of still dating and this was why he was pointing out that we had, in fact, broken up to me?

  “Yes, I’m painfully aware,” I said.

  “No, not us. I mean…” He stammered. Stammering. Poor lost little boy manipulative trick number 732. It’s a matched pair with the eyes. I’ve been a bad boy. So bad that I can’t even cough out the words. Hugh Grant — hooker — Jay Leno show — enough said.

  “What?” I asked.

  He continued stammering and batting his long eyelashes as Vanessa and Jack came up next to us, dancing.

  “Mind if we cut in?” Vanessa asked. “I’d like a dance with my husband,” she said, accentuating the word husband in case any other wedding guests could hear us.

  “Of course!” I cried out before Douglas could articulate his dissent.

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked the second I was back in his strong arms.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” I said. “Now that I’m with you.”

  “What the hell is going on?” he whispered, pulling me closer. “What is he doing here?”

  “I have no idea,” I said, taking advantage of the opportunity to put my face close to his. I could smell my own perfume on his neck and I smiled and thought about the bridal suite.

  “Did you know he was coming?” he asked me, pulling his face back. Before I could answer (my response was going to be a very witty: “I didn’t know what Douglas was doing when we were living together, so I certainly don’t know what he is doing now”), we had somehow switched partners and I found myself face-to-face with Douglas again.

  “Darling,” he said. Douglas always called me darling. I used to love how it sounded with his accent: dah-ling.

  “Don’t call me that,” I said, looking over his shoulder at Jack and Vanessa. Jack was looking over Vanessa’s shoulder at me. I smiled at him.

  “Look, we’ve called off the wedding. Brooke, darling, I’ve made a huge mistake. I only hope that it’s not too late to fix things,” he said.

  Too late to fix things? It was too late to fix things when we were still in the relationship. Only I didn’t know it then. The emperor really doesn’t have any clothes on, but all along I was thinking that he had on a custom-made Italian suit.

  Jack was right — I needed to concentrate more on what things really were, and not just what they looked like. Regardless of how Douglas looked, on the inside, he was a lying cheat. And I was too good for that. Jack, on the other hand, had a wonderful inside. It just so happened that he had a wonderful outside, too. Not like I care about that superficial stuff anymore or anything.

  As Douglas stood there, faking tears and confessing his love to me, I realized that this relationship was never really real — it was something I had created in my head and had chosen to believe in. Even after two years of being together, living together, I have had more meaningful relationships with certain pairs of shoes.

  “I love you,” he continued. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I never meant to hurt you. Marry me. Let’s pick up where we left off.”

  I could hardly believe my ears. Do
uglas was coming back to me. And asking me to marry him, to boot. It was all I had ever wanted, only I didn’t want it anymore.

  “Have you lost your goddamned mind?” I said as he leaned in to kiss me, presumably to prove his deep love and affection. He moved back, the shock of a woman actually saying no to him registering on his face.

  “Darling, I love you. Haven’t you heard what I’m saying to you?”

  “Yes, but it’s that —”

  Before I could finish the thought, he grabbed my face and kissed me. Hard.

  No response to what I was trying to say, he just kissed me. Apparently he thought that a kiss from him would answer my questions. It did not. He kissed me and held me to him and it was a struggle to release myself from his grasp.

  He had his hands on either side of my face and I couldn’t pull away. My only thought was that Jack would help release me from Douglas’s grip, but as I opened my eyes all I could see from the corner of my eye was Jack storming off the dance floor.

  23

  After what seemed like an eternity, I pushed Douglas and his cheating lips away from me and hit him in the chest. Hard.

  The singer finished her song and the crowd stopped dancing to applaud. Douglas and I stood there like strangers amid the other happy wedding guests, the only ones not applauding. We were face-to-face, but neither of us said a word. The bandleader invited the crowd to sit down to enjoy the main course.

  Douglas turned and grabbed Vanessa — who was standing behind us wide-eyed after witnessing the kiss — and made his way to our table with her. I spun around and tried to find Jack, but he was no longer on the dance floor and he wasn’t at our table. As the dance floor cleared, I spotted him across the room at the bar.

  I walked over to the bar where Jack was surrounded by what can only be described as a bevy of young women. Single young women. I wondered if they were all clients of Trip’s or friends of Ava’s. They were all clearly in the business, one way or another. I completely stood out, like a man in a lingerie store, since I was the only one there with her original boobs, lips and nose. (Okay, so maybe it’s not my original nose, but the boobs and lips are all me.) I wondered if Jack had told them that he was a producer. I knew for a fact that that used to be Trip’s little party trick when he first got to L.A.

  A five-foot-ten redhead was draped around Jack as if he were the sultan of Brunei. He didn’t seem to mind at all. I could have sworn I recognized her from an episode of Law and Order.

  “So, do you ever regret giving up acting?” a tall blonde wistfully asked Jack.

  “Would you mind if I took back my date?” I asked with a laugh, nudging my way into the circle. The redhead didn’t move. Neither did Jack. “Jack?”

  “I saw you,” he said, and turned back to his drink. The redhead didn’t move a muscle. She stayed wrapped around Jack, staring at me intently.

  “Jack,” I continued, undeterred. “Our main courses are on the table.”

  “I saw you with Douglas,” he repeated, louder, more aggressive. His bevy of women all began to glare at me. I couldn’t tell if it was because he had told them about me and Douglas or if it was simply because they had all seen him first.

  “I heard you the first time,” I whispered, trying to take his arm. The redhead was still drawing her tentacles into him and I began to turn my faux engagement ring around my finger.

  “I saw you with him,” he said, turning toward me, looking me dead in the eye. His blue eyes looked darker than I had noticed before. The redhead stepped aside as Jack’s voice climbed louder and louder. He walked out of the circle of women to face me.

  “Can we talk about this later?” I whispered to him, motioning to the people around us who could hear.

  “I saw you kiss him, Brooke, so why don’t you just cut the crap,” he said. He wasn’t even trying to use the Scottish accent anymore even though there were tons of wedding guests around us. “Cut the crap right now.” I grabbed his arm and led him out of the reception room. His feet stayed heavy and it was hard to get him to move.

  He continued to rant once out in the hallway. “I know that’s what you want. That’s what you really wanted this whole time. So why don’t you just go for it? Why don’t you just take back what you want?”

  “That’s not what I want,” I said and I could feel the tears starting to build up.

  “Bullshit!” he snarled. I was so shocked that he had yelled at me that I felt my body jerk backward. “Sure you do,” he continued. “You spent the better part of the weekend thinking, plotting ways to get back together with Douglas. And now he’s here. So go and get him. You two deserve each other.”

  “I don’t want him,” I pleaded, tears swelling around my eyes. “I want you. I want to be with you.”

  “I was a moron to think that you would want me. In fact, you only wanted me when I dressed up and pretended to be Douglas. How sick is that?”

  “That’s not true,” I said, hardly able to speak with the tears running down my face.

  “I’ve been a fool for you for so long, Brooke. I don’t really know what on earth I was thinking. But that’s over now. And you should be thrilled. You have both of the men in your life here, making utter fools of themselves.”

  “No, that’s not what I want at all. It’s you that I want. I want you.”

  “Tell it to someone who cares,” he said, storming off.

  “Where are you going?” I called after him, tears still falling uncontrollably from my eyes.

  “I’m going to eat,” he said, opening the door to the reception and marching through. The sound of the band playing drifted out to me and then the door closed with a slam, leaving only silence surrounding me.

  I stood there alone in the hallway, barely comprehending what had just happened. How could Jack know what I wanted when I barely knew it myself?

  Douglas? I didn’t want Douglas. Not anymore. Not since he’d been revealed for what he really is.

  But married. I do want to be married. And that’s what Douglas is offering. But what kind of marriage can you have with a man you can’t trust?

  I can trust Jack. But how could Jack say such hurtful things to me? I guess that was how much seeing Douglas and I kiss had hurt him. Could I have underestimated the feelings he had for me all along? I had underestimated the feelings I had for him all along, so why not?

  The door from the reception began to open out into the hallway where I was still standing and I brushed the tears from my cheek. The music from the reception floated out into the hallway again and I could hear the band playing “Celebration.” Jack was coming back for me. I knew that he couldn’t stay mad at me, just the way I could never stay mad at him. He will come back and I will explain everything and tell him how I feel and everything will be all right. The door opened slowly and I began to smile.

  “Brooke?”

  “I’m right here,” I said.

  “Brooke, are you okay? My mother told me that you passed out.” It was Trip. My smile all of the sudden felt forced, and I felt the tears beginning to build up again.

  “I’m fine,” I said as he reached out and gave me a hug. The nicer he was to me, the more it made me want to cry. Why is it that when you’re sad, the simple act of someone being nice to you makes you want to cry even more?

  “Good, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said, forcing my lips to continue smiling.

  “You don’t look okay,” he said. “What is it?”

  “Nothing, Trip. It’s nothing. This is a beautiful wedding. Thank you so much for having me,” I said, wiping away a stray tear under the guise of fixing my makeup.

  “It’s my pleasure, kiddo. You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Good,” he said. “Because I have got to talk to that guy who just went into the can about a deal.” He kissed my cheek and ran off to the men’s room.

  I walked back into the reception and found our table. Dou
glas, Vanessa and Jack were all in a row, with an empty seat in the middle. I took a deep breath and sat down between Jack and Douglas. Jack wouldn’t even look me in the eye. Douglas couldn’t keep his eyes off me.

  “So,” the wedding guest next to Jack asked us, “how long have you two been engaged?”

  “Not very long,” I said. I wondered how quickly I could eat my chicken and get Jack alone so that I could talk to him.

  “Oh, really?” Douglas asked.

  “Yeah,” Jack said, “it’s like we’re barely even engaged at all.” Douglas began to snicker.

  “I’m Jenna,” the wedding guest said, putting her hand out for us to shake. “I grew up with Ava. How do you know the happy couple?”

  “She used to sleep with the groom,” Jack said, turning to me. At least he looked me in the eye, though.

  “Trip and I dated in law school,” I quickly covered, forcing a laugh. “I sort of had to drag him here,” I said, motioning to Jack, hoping we looked like a cute bickering couple and not a couple about to kill one another.

  “My husband can be the same way,” Jenna told me and smiled. “So, when’s the big day?”

  “We haven’t decided yet,” I said.

  “You haven’t?” Douglas asked. “See, and I thought that you had the whole thing figured out, Brooke. Or, at least completely made up in your own mind.” I laughed and Jenna nervously laughed along.

  “But we do know we want something small, don’t we, darling?” Jack said, putting his arm around me and squeezing me a little too tight. “After all, after this weekend, Brooke plans to have a few less friends. Right, honey?” I laughed really loudly as if to say, “Isn’t my faux fiancé funny?” I hoped that she would just laugh to be polite and not try to figure out why Jack was being so goddamned nasty to me. She did not.

  “It’s really about the relationship, though,” Vanessa offered, sweeping in to save me from across the table. “If the love is there, it will just fill the room and it won’t matter if it’s a big wedding or a small wedding or a formal one or a casual one. It’s just all about the couple, I think.”