Miss Match (3 page)

He grins and he is the same old Brandon again. "Good night,
Laurie," he sing-songs.

I stand, relishing the way the dress creases in all the wrong places.
"Night, Brandon."

He watches my pleasure and shakes his head. "Lauren Holbrook,
you are one of a kind."

"Yes, thank you."

"See you at work tomorrow."

"Bye."

He lets himself out and I go upstairs. It's Sunday night. Work begins
again tomorrow. Life will once again fall into its perfect pace.

I change into my pajamas, fall into bed, and am asleep almost as
soon as I touch the pillow.

Almost.

Do I envy what Laney and Lexi have?

Nah.

And then I go to sleep.

I wake up at eight when my alarm goes off.

Ugh.

Sometime in my prewedding madness yesterday morning, I must
have hit the tuner on my alarm clock. Loud trumpets and twangy guitars
burst from my clock like a Mexican hat-dancing quartet has taken up
residence in my bedroom.

May it never he so.

I hit the alarm clock with the sudden strength of a heavyweight
boxer and throw the covers off.

I dress casually because I'm twenty-three years old and I can. People
who come to The Brandon Knox Photography Studio expect my coworker,
Ruby Palmer, who is thirty-three, to look coordinated and professional
because they know she is officially An Adult. People look at me in my
jeans and sweater and brush it off because I look like just A Kid.

I take advantage of my youth.

I've been working for the studio since I was a sophomore in high
school, at first mostly as a gopher for Mr. Knox, who still owns the place.
The older I got, the more I fell in love with the photography process,
and Mr. Knox started training me to take the photographs instead of doing my half-secretarial, half-hold-the-screaming-baby job. Brandon's
been there since he was about eight. He manages the place now while his
grandparents take extremely long trips to exotic places.

It takes me five minutes to get dressed and thirty minutes to fix my
hair. I am a stickler about my hair.

Downstairs, Dad holds his lemongrass tea in one hand and his blue
indigestion medication in the other.

"Good morning, Laurie. Did you sleep well?" He pops the horsesized pill in his mouth and swallows it without blinking.

Here's what I don't understand: Horse-sized indigestion pills.
It seems like if you're having indigestion, swallowing a pill the size of
Massachusetts would be a little difficult.

I answer his question while pouring a cup of coffee. "Yes, Dad. How
did you sleep?"

He exhales sadly. "Not as well as I would have if Lexi had
been home."

"Dad, Lexi hasn't lived here for four years." If I'm not careful, this
can become last night's conversation minus our buffer, Brandon. "What
is on your schedule for today?"

"I thought I'd go see Laney."

Bad idea. "Dad, I think Muffin is due in for a veterinarian visit today.
Would you mind taking her? I'm working all day today."

He pauses for a second, mulling it over. "Good thinking, Laurie.
Lexi wouldn't be happy if Muffin keeled over while she was on her
honeymoon."

"Thanks, Dad." Relief.

"Who are you taking pictures of today?"

"Unless we have any last-minute cancellations, we have the Rawleys,
the Carters, the Jacksons, and Linda and Greg." Oops. I regret the last
two names the moment they slip out.

Dad perks up. "Linda and Greg? Linda Myers and Greg Halloway?
Why are they getting a picture taken?"

Oh brother. I shove a piece of toast in my mouth. With Dad's dismal
view of marriage, it is my only hope of continuing to have a peaceful
breakfast. "Weww, Dwad, Winda an Gweg awe gwetting-"

"Laurie, don't talk with food in your mouth. That's rude."

Thank You, Lord. I take my time chewing. A lot of time. I swallow.
"Sorry, Dad. Whoa, look at the time. I need to run."

"You don't want to be late."

"Nope, because that would give Brandon license to fire me." I jump
up from the table.

"Brandon wouldn't fire you, Honey." He smiles up at me. "Have a
good day."

I run for my shoes and backpack and climb into my new Tahoe. All
Dad's retirement money and no one to spend it on ... except me.

See why I'm never getting married?

I drive the five minutes across town to the studio. Brandon's grandfather started the studio about thirty years ago. Brandon's wanted to run
it since birth, and last January, Mr. Knox half-retired. Now Brandon
runs the place, while Mr. Knox just owns it. It's grown a lot in a year, and
Mr. Knox was even nice enough to let Brandon change the name to The
Brandon Knox Photography Studio. Now he has four photographers,
including me, working for him and is in the market for a secretary.

"You are this close to late." Ruby holds her thumb and forefinger a
hair's width apart.

"But I managed to avoid lateness yet again." I sling my backpack into
my cubbyhole. I hate carrying a backpack. I am constantly forgetting it.
But when the alternative is a purse-well, a purse is just not my style.

Ruby just looks at me and shakes her head. Ruby Palmer has no sense
of humor at all, thrives on punctuality, and eats Slim Fast bars for lunch.

If this is what happens when you turn thirty-three, I am never
growing up.

She is always dressed stiffly. Or maybe it's just her posture that makes
her look stiff. Honestly, you'd think she has a board tied to her vertebrae the way she stands. She has very boring past-the-shoulder-length,
mousy brown hair and pretty eyes that could be prettier if she'd just
smile occasionally.

There's a part of me that wants to toss a neon-colored scarf around
her neck and jump about singing. It's hard to maintain a stiff composure
when there is someone dancing around you and you're wearing neon.

Brandon walks in. "Morning, Ruby. Morning, Laurie."

"Good morning, Brandon."

"Hey."

I notice Brandon is seven seconds late, but as the boss, I guess it's his
right because Ruby keeps her mouth closed.

"Where are Ty and Newton?" Brandon plops a file folder on the desk
and hangs up his coat on the tree by the door. Ty and Newton are the
closed-mouthed photographers here. They don't speak to me. Apparently
I'm too loud for their tastes.

"In the back," Ruby says to Brandon. "The Rawleys showed up early.
Again. It takes both Ty and Newton to corral their kids."

Brandon grins. "How many kids this time?"

"My count? Eight. You never know, though. With all the movement, I could have miscounted." She shakes her head and then smoothes
her hair.

The Rawleys have consistently added a child to their family every
year since I can remember.

"Laurie, you've got the Carters; Ruby, you take the Jacksons."

"Yes, sir."

My answer is a halfhearted, "Uhh." Brandon does this just to spite me. The Carters like to be photographed with their two cats. I
detest cats.

"Oh," Brandon says suddenly. "And Laurie, I just heard that Tina
Braxton and Kyle Medfield got engaged. They'll be coming in for
pictures at three."

"Tina?" I yell.

Brandon does the funny twisting with his mouth meaning he's
hiding a grin. "Yeah, Tina. You remember Tina."

My chin is super-glued to the carpet. "She's eighteen. She's hardly
legal. I mentored her through seventh-grade English as my senior extracredit project."

"Did she pass?" Ruby asks.

"No," Brandon says.

"I can't believe she's engaged!"

"Well, you know, sometimes it just happens. A guy meets a girl. They
like each other. Then they love each other. Then they decide to get married." Brandon shrugs. "It happens."

"Yeah, but not to children." I'm not really upset they're getting married. It is more the fact that Tina is eighteen and has already been proposed to.

No one has ever proposed to me.

I wouldn't accept him if he did. It would just be somewhat
flattering.

What's so great about Tina Braxton anyway? Sure, she's beautiful,
kind, and a good Christian, but what other qualities does she have?

Plenty. I sigh.

Brandon notices my silent pity party and levels me with a stare even
Tina Braxton would shudder at. We'll talk later, it says.

Oh joy.

He picks up the appointment book. "I had a call about the ad I put in the newspaper. Hannah Curtis will be coming by to interview for the
secretary position about four fifteen."

"Who's Hannah Curtis?" With a name like that, I'm picturing a
fiftyish woman, probably with no sense of humor. The only person here
who does actually laugh is Brandon, and he can't get too goofy because
he has to remain bosslike.

Brandon glances at a yellow sticky note he's holding. "She just moved
here about a month ago. I haven't actually met her in person, just talked
to her on the phone on my way in. She seems nice enough. We'll see."

The bell over the door jangles and the Carters come in.

With Bonny and Betty, The Cats Boisterous.

"Hi!" I say with a cheeky smile. "Good to see you again! Oh, and
Bonny and Betty are looking well!"

Three o'clock marches around much too quickly. I hardly have time to
gather my composure after the family reunion mob leaves before Tina
and Kyle walk in.

A radiant Tina and Kyle.

Oh brother.

"Tina." I tip my head to one side. "You look fantastic."

"Hi, Laurie." Her voice is whispery, fairylike. "This is my fiance,
Kyle."

Kyle shakes my hand. "Nice to meet you, Laurie."

Tina sparkles. Perfectly smooth, chocolate-toned complexion. Perfect
brown eyes. Perfect caramel-highlighted black hair.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Never have I felt so blah in all my life.

Kyle looks proud he snatched her up first. His black hair is short and fairly curly. Brown eyes. Muscled. Tall. Pretty darn cute.

Brandon materializes beside me, and I can read the glint in
his eyes.

This couple is going to hang on the studio waiting room wall.

Where they can mock me day and night.

Wait a minute. What am I thinking?

I am Lauren Holbrook. I have a good job and a father who would
give me the state if he were able.... I have everything I could ever need
or desire.

That s right.

"Right this way. We'll be in Studio Four. You'll get three clothing
changes during the session...."

It isn't so bad. Tina sweetly informs me they will be married in four
weeks. Kyle smiles like a model in GQ.

I wave good-bye to them and turn to face Brandon.

"So how was the charming couple?" His eyes are sparkling at me
because he knows the answer.

I push my fingers into my face. "Charming. Too charming. My
cheeks hurt from smiling."

"Loosen them quick. I need you to be-"

"Charming?" I keep massaging my cheeks. Any blush I had previously applied is now gone.

"For lack of a better word. Yeah. Charming for Hannah Curtis.
Got it?"

I salute. "Yes, Captain."

"Good."

Hannah Curtis arrives at four fifteen on the dot. I watch Ruby tensely
count the seconds, ready to pounce if Hannah is a microsecond late.

A petite blonde with big, round blue eyes and a figure boasting
good genes and lots of exercise walks through the door. The room is immediately filled with a fog of her citrusy perfume.

Surely, surely, surely this isn't Hannah Curtis.

"Can I help you?" I ask.

"Yes." The blonde brushes her shiny locks away from her even shinier
lips. "I'm Hannah Curtis. I'm looking for Brandon Knox."

"Sure." I paste on a terse smile. "I'll take you back to his office."

"Thank you."

I march down the long, carpeted hallway to Brandon's office. PeachFaced Barbie follows along as best she can in her toothpick heels and
knee-length skirt.

"Brandon." I burst through his door. "This is Hannah Curtis."

Brandon stands, his eyes widening. "Oh." His voice is much lower
than normal. "Hi. I'm Brandon Knox."

"Hannah Curtis."

I just said that, idiot.

I need to leave before my mouth starts working without the controlling presence of my brain.

"I'll leave you now." I feel very unfeminine in my loose-fitting jeans.
Especially next to Hannah with her legs arcing gracefully from beneath
her dress.

Who does she think she is? It is January, for Pete's sake!

"No," Brandon suddenly erupts. "Stay, Laurie."

Now I feel like an unfeminine collie. Sit, Laurie. Stay, Laurie.
Good girl!

"Yes, sir."

This brings Brandon out of his ogle fest. He breaks his gaze with
Hannah and starts staring at me. Only this isn't the same Gosh-You'reBeautiful gawk Hannah received. This is a What-the-Heck-Is-theMatter-with-You? stare.

Good old Brandon. Always boosts the ego.

"Have a seat, Hannah," he says softly. I get a nod toward the chair
next to hers.