“I'm so sorry I'm late,” I said.
“It's part of your charm.” Zenya broke the hug and wiped her eyes. “Just don't be late to my wedding!”
“Of course not! You look amazing, Z.”
“Why thank you.” Zenya kicked her hips to the side and planted a palm on her waist in a sassy, showy gesture. She wore a short sleeve black dress with a cleavage window and knee-high boots that made her flawless, light mocha skin glow.
I was under dressed in my sea salt chinos, sweater and puffy coat, which still felt a little damp from last night's rain. Zenya was the most fashionable girl I'd ever met, she radiated style. I could've been wearing a dress spun from actual gold and I'd still feel under dressed next to her.
Zenya introduced me to her future sister-in-law, Jennifer, then to the rest of the girls. I turned down the offer for food, lying about having a big breakfast. I was hungry, but after the nearly thirty dollars-worth of tolls just to drive here, I definitely couldn't afford anything off this organic, farm-friendly, locally-sourced menu.
“And a margarita for the maid of honor as well,” Jennifer added sharply to the waitress, despite my insistence that tap water was fine. There was a strange stiffness in the way Jennifer said maid of honor. It reminded me of the way someone in second place would congratulate the winner. Maybe I was just reading into things. It wasn't like Zenya's wedding was some sort of competition.
My jaw basically hit the floor when Zenya showed me her engagement ring. The diamonds—plural—were huge and definitely cost more than my car. “Holy hell, look at those rocks! Facebook pics don't do this baby justice.”
“Is it too big?” Zenya tried her best at modesty, but couldn't contain her excitement. When she squealed in giddy joy everyone else joined in too, with the notable exception of Jennifer, who just smiled evenly and sipped at her drink. Zenya fanned herself and exhaled. “It's fucking gorgeous, isn't it?”
My eyes drifted around the table to all the other diamond rings and wedding bands. Was I the only one who hadn't found the love of their life? I slipped my naked hands onto my lap, beneath the table.
“Amazing,” I said, smiling brightly. I drained the rest of my drink while the other girls traded stories about their wedding days and how incredible Zenya's was going to be. The conversations shifted to honeymoons. Each of her friends seemed to one-up the next with exotic locations or extravagant excess.
I smiled and added little things to the conversation that wouldn't draw too much attention my way. Being that I hadn't eaten yet today the alcohol was really starting to hit me, which always did wonders for depression.
At some point in my life I'd fallen off the boat of happiness and no matter how hard I swam, it always outpaced me. I could never catch up. The perfect life seemed to come so easily for everyone else. Why was it so difficult for me?
I loved my friend and really was happy for her. Z was a kind and wonderful person that deserved the world. This is her time, I reminded myself, refreshing my smile. Be here for her.
“So. The famous roommate, Calli,” Jennifer interjected, quieting the group's small talk. She paused to take a sip of her drink, her gaze settling on me with the curiosity of a cat toying with a mouse. Eventually, she cracked a humorless smile. “Is there a special man in your life?”
“Um.” I paused, groping for a way to deflect the question. It was claustrophobic having so many sets of eyes looking at me expectantly. Weirdly, I thought of Veto. But he wasn't really in my life. He was more of a thing that happened to me.
“Calli's too busy for that right now,” Zenya said. “She's focusing on her career and her photography.” She came to my rescue like she used to when we lived together, and my mother visited for dinner and asked me the same things. Z threw an arm over my shoulder and playfully scolded me. “Hell, I haven't even seen her in like two years because of it. Do you know how hard it's been to stay out of trouble without you?”
I laughed and so did most of the other girls. That lightened the mood and alleviated some tension. Zenya was the outgoing Yin to my introverted Yang. She used to drag me to parties and I used to drag her home before she made super bad decisions... most of the time.
“I know someone I could set you up with,” Wanda, one of the bridesmaids, teased. “That is, if you like handsome and richer than God.”
“Wanda, I love you girl,” Z said, “But firstly, aside from your husband, you have the worst taste in men.” Zenya slowly shook her head. “And secondly, you better not be talking about who I think you're talking about.”
“I do not have bad taste!”
“No?” Zenya raised an eyebrow incredulously. “This coming from a woman who physically wrote to People Magazine demanding that Shia LaBeouf be the next Sexiest Man Alive.” Z paused for dramatic effect. She looked at the rest of us while doing a circle gesture around her face where a beard would be had she been born a man. “During his scraggly facial hair years.”
“Okay, that wasn't my finest hour,” Wanda agreed. Everyone, including Wanda, laughed. “Still though, there's nothing wrong with the hunky Mr. Goldlock. Besides, he's basically paying for your wedding.”
“Oh, you mean aside from the fact that he disappeared a few months ago without warning, leaving my darling fiancé and his team to pick up the slack?” Zenya rolled her eyes. “And don’t get it twisted. Clint is paying for our wedding, not his boss.”
“Goldlock?” I asked. Where had I heard that name before? Then I realized I hadn't heard it anywhere. I'd seen it. It was on several of the billboards along the highway coming into the city. “Like Goldlock Industries?”
“And like the hotel, you're staying at. Mr. Goldlock has his hands in the pants of half of New York,” Zenya giggled.
“Ah, okay.” I cracked a huge grin and started to chuckle. She wanted me to date a billionaire CEO? I had a better chance of hitting the lottery while being struck by lightning.
“Don't listen to Wanda.” Zenya waived off her pouting friend. “She just has a crush on her boss, but is married so she can't hit on him.”
I didn't push the issue. Honestly, the whole rich and powerful CEO fantasy didn't do it for me. Maybe it was just because it was so absurd. I'd never met Mr. Goldlock, but I guaranteed he'd rather date an actress or a supermodel than some nobody waitresses like me.
Besides, I couldn't handle another pipe dream. I was still too preoccupied with Veto. One fantasy at a time, Calli.
The conversations pushed on, but I wasn't there anymore. I was still trying to wrap my brain around how the hell I was going to spend the night with Veto. What were his expectations? Was he just looking to score? It was hard for me to accept that; hook-ups don't have to spend the night, and he'd offered.
It could be platonic. My throat dried out. What if he brings another girl back to the room? Would I have to hear them have sex? I couldn't imagine anything more torturous. My brain pulled me into a thousand different scenarios.
“Calli?” Jennifer's sharp voice cut through all the haze.
“I'm sorry, what was that?” I looked up like a deer in headlights.