The Sleeping Beauty Proposal (26 page)
Read The Sleeping Beauty Proposal Online
Authors: Sarah Strohmeyer
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary
His eyes aren't dark blue; they're brown. That is so weird. I've never seen eyes that change color before. Green to blue, sure. But not blue to brown. “Are you wearing contacts?”
“What?” He shakes his head. “No. Did you hear what I said?”
“Uh-huh. Maybe it's the leather jacket that turns the color of your eyes.”
“Genie.You're avoiding my question.You did tell him, right? Hugh does know about the house?”
“Yup.”
“You're one hundred percent positive Hugh's cool with this? Because I don't want to get in the middle of a lovers' quarrel.You guys have been going out for four years and I'd hate to think a stupid condo could screw things up.”
“Won't screw.” Wait. “I mean, it'll be fine. Hugh loves the house.”
Tina's back and from the look on her face there's trouble. “Charles Denkins, the head of mortgages, would like to meet you, Mr. Spanadopolous.”
Nick, who has gone from Nick to “Mr. Spanadopolous” in a matter of minutes, doesn't seem at all concerned he's being called in to the head of mortgages.
“Not me, too?” I ask, feeling left out.
“Maybe later, Genie,” Tina says. “There's some, um, history in Mr. Spanadopolous's background that Mr. Denkins would like to discuss.”
That sounds ominous. Drug charge? Bench warrant? Maybe a tryst with the former Mrs. Denkins, a woman my father described as Belmont's answer to Brigitte Bardot, only African American and not French.
“Don't worry,” says Nick, getting up. “I'm used to it.”
So he's
used
to being a felon and an adulterer. Super. I suppose I could call my father in, if it comes to that, but I really hate to pull strings. I'm a big girl nowâas everyone keeps telling me these days.
used
to being a felon and an adulterer. Super. I suppose I could call my father in, if it comes to that, but I really hate to pull strings. I'm a big girl nowâas everyone keeps telling me these days.
With Nick off to explain his rap sheet, this is my opportunity to call Mom and squeal about the house. It's so exciting!
She answers right away. "Hi, honey.” She must pull up a chair by the phone and sit there until it rings. “We were just talking about you.”
“We?”
“Your dad and I.We have big news.”
“Let me guess.Tula Abernathy is adding crab to the dip.”
“Funny you should mention Tula. Her name came up, too. She's set a date for your engagement party. August third.”
“I don't know, Mom. Hugh might not be back by then.”
“Not to worry. Hugh can make it. In fact, he's looking forward to it.”
Hold on. I have to sit up and take a closer look. Nick and Clay McDonald, the bank president, are walking side by side down the marble hall together.They appear to be joking, shaking hands. Clay McDonald is practically salivating all over Nick.What gives?
Did she just say Hugh was looking forward to our engagement party?
“What was that about Hugh?” I ask.
“He's thrilled about the party. He's really very honored that Tula's putting on the dog for you two.”
That pain shoots up my arm again. I feel faint and dizzy. "You called him?”
“No.You told me not to, remember?”
Thank God in heaven. If she had called him . . .
“Your father ran into him a few minutes ago.”
Upon hearing these words, my heart literally leaps out of my chest. I almost expect to see it beating at my feet. “Where?”
“On the doorstep of your apartment. Dad was driving by on his way home from work and there was Hugh ringing your doorbell. You should give the boy a key, Genie. He's your fiancé, for heaven's sake.”
“HUGH!” I jump out of my seat, practically knocking over Tina's candy bowl. “HUGH SHOWED UP AT MY APARTMENT? ”
Funny how easily sound bounces off granite walls.Tina is staring at me wide-eyed and Clay McDonald, too. Nick . . . I can't even make eye contact.
This cannot be happening. Hugh cannot be here in Boston. His e-mail to Steve said next weekânot
this
week.
this
week.
“Oh,” Mom moans. “It was supposed to be a surprise and I ruined it, didn't I? Hugh told Dad it was a surprise and Dad, naturally, let it slip his mind. Men are so clueless about things like surprises. I was just so tickled because Dad did remember to make sure Hugh knew about the engagement party.”
Okay. Hugh's in town and Dad invited him to the engagement party. Scratch that.
Our
engagement party.This after I've hinted in an e-mail to Hugh that while I might be engaged, I'm not necessarily engaged to
him.
Our
engagement party.This after I've hinted in an e-mail to Hugh that while I might be engaged, I'm not necessarily engaged to
him.
Which was probably why he was at my door, curious to know who, exactly, could replace him. Though there's no doubt now, is there? I mean, now that my father has told Hugh point-blank that not only are we getting married but that Tula Abernathy, Belmont socialite, possible murderess, is throwing us a blowout bash.
“Everything okay?” Nick asks, hands in his pockets.
“Fine.” My phone clicks shut.
“Sounds like Hugh's back in town.”
Quickly, I search through the papers on Tina's desk for my copy. "Yes. It was supposed to be a surprise.When can I move into my new house?”
“Hugh eager to settle in, is he?”
“Not Hugh, me. So when?”
Nick frowns as he calculates the work to be done. “Let's see. The kitchen needs to be finished and there's no bathtub or shower.” He shrugs. “I dunno.Three weeks maybe. Four weeks tops.”
“In other words, tonight. Great. See you then,” I shout, rushing out the door and heading home to make a fast escape.
Chapter Twenty-one
"I don't see why you have to pack up this apartment you've been living in for fifteen years and move out overnight,” Patty asks.
“Because Hugh's back in town and he showed up on my doorstep.”
“So?”
“So, if he showed up once, he'll do it again. And the next time he'll bring Connie, just to rub my face in it.”
“You want I should take her out?” Patty looks up from her box of plates. “No marks. My people don't leave evidence.”
Someday I'd like to meet Patty's people. Or, on second thought, not.
I stuff one more sheet into the garbage bag. Filling garbage bags with linens is not the tidiest of methods of relocation. (Nancy Michaels would be shocked!) But I'm not going for tidy. I'm going for fast.
The good news is that my landlord, Mr. Collins, was initially going to give me a hard time about moving out since I recently renewed my lease. As ammunition, he brought out my contract and pointed to where I had agreed to find a sub-tenant should I have to leave before my term was up. (Who reads the fine print on those leases, anyway?)
So I pointed to where he was supposed to remove all vermin and hadn't. (Mice.They live in my stove and Jorge does nothing to stop them. Just sits and watches them like they're kitty TV.) Which was when Mr. Collins saw my ring.
After that, it was hunky-dory. He was overjoyed that I was getting married after living in his apartment for nearly two decades. Kept saying he thought it would never happen, that I would end up in a nunnery, et cetera, et cetera. As a wedding gift, he ripped up my lease and brought out a can of Tab to toast.
It's amazing, the awesomeness of that ring. Has the power to destroy leases and produce really bad diet soda.
Patty wraps a plate in newspaper and slides it into a box.Then she takes another sip of wine.This has been her snail-like process. Pack. Sip. Pack. Sip. At her rate, I'm not only going to be hauling a bed, a bureau, a couch, several appliances (including my crappy Rite Aid coffeemaker), but also a midget drunk.
After she closes and tapes the box, she dumps it rather carelessly by the door.Then she spends a great deal of time looking out the window for Todd or Hugh, whoever should come first.
Todd has promised to help move my bed and couch into Peabody Road so I can sleep there tonight. If only the evening were ten degrees cooler. I have completely pitted out my sleeveless white shirt. Even my hair is sweating.
Taking a break, I pour myself a glass of wine and add an ice cube. Then, dumping some salsa into a bowl, I carry that and a pack of fat-free baked chips to the tiny front porch where Patty is sitting, her arms around her knees, on Hugh patrol.
“How's the engagement going?” I ask, setting down the bowl and the chips.
“Fantastic. I'm almost done registering. Just in time for the party.”
Patty's firm is throwing a huge black-tie couple's shower at the Harbor Hotel for Patty and her fiancé, the illustrious Moe Howard. I'd give anything for a shower at the Harbor Hotel.
Forget that. I'd give anything for real fried tortilla chips. This baked stuff definitely does not cut it. “Yeah? What have you registered for?”
“More like what
haven't
I registered for.” She goes inside and comes out with her purse, from which she pulls a file folder overflowing with white sheets. Her registry records.
haven't
I registered for.” She goes inside and comes out with her purse, from which she pulls a file folder overflowing with white sheets. Her registry records.
“A tad greedy, wouldn't you say?”
“I like to think of it as giving my guests a wide range of options.”
“You don't have any guests.”
"Yes, I do. I've got one hundred and forty. All I'm missing is a living, breathing groom. Here's my favorite list.”
She hands me a sheet from Hammacher Schlemmer.At the top is the Mechanical Core Muscle Trainer for a whopping $1,999.
“Do you really think people are going to buy this?”
Patty swills some more wine and says, “Can't hurt to ask. If you'll notice, I've also registered for a Professional Rotary Belgian Waffle Maker at a very modest seventy-nine ninety-nine. And then there's the cat hammock for forty dollars.”
“Are you high? Because, last I checked, you don't have a cat.”
“You never know.What if Jorge visits?”
Jorge's fat butt rounds the corner, searching for escape. Like all cats, he dreads being moved and has been inching away from us all evening. I am safely assured he won't get much farther than the back steps before, exhausted, he sets down his satchel and takes a snooze.
“Jorge doesn't visit.”
“And whose fault is that? If you weren't so stingy with the car keys, the poor fellow could get around more.” She huffs, scoops up some salsa, and hands me another sheet from her registry file. Tiffany & Co.
Oh, for heaven's sake. She really has gone over the edge.“What happened to good ole Macy's and Bloomingdale's?”
“They're there, too. You know what I've noticed? That men like me more now that I'm engaged.”
Reluctantly, I draw myself away from the $775 Birds of the Nile mini vase, the kind of item that screams “extravagantly impractical. ” “Men always liked you.What's so strange about that?”
“Now they
really
like me. I mean, I've had two clients ask me out since I've gotten the ring and these are clients I've known for years.They asked all about who I was marrying and if I'd thought long and hard about the consequences of settling down.Then they insisted on wining and dining me, as if they're trying to change my mind.”
really
like me. I mean, I've had two clients ask me out since I've gotten the ring and these are clients I've known for years.They asked all about who I was marrying and if I'd thought long and hard about the consequences of settling down.Then they insisted on wining and dining me, as if they're trying to change my mind.”
“Don't complain. I'd love for some rich man to wine and dine me.”
“I think it's a biological thing. Like, now that another male has marked me as his own they suddenly have to fight for me, the desirable female.”
Could that be true? With me men haven't been . . . no. Hold on. What about Steve? He's been flooding me with mushy e-mails fretting over my upcoming nuptials.That's after decades of friendship.
And then there's Nick. Not that he's interested in me. I mean, he
might
be interested in me, but only as a downstairs neighbor, a partner in our real estate venture, so to speak. Besides, there's Elena back home. I must be a poor excuse of a woman compared to her.
might
be interested in me, but only as a downstairs neighbor, a partner in our real estate venture, so to speak. Besides, there's Elena back home. I must be a poor excuse of a woman compared to her.
“This is what women who want to get married should do: Buy a ring.Tell people you're engaged and you're guaranteed to get propositioned,” Patty says, as Todd pulls up in his truck. “Uhoh. I've got to get myself together.” Whereupon she flees to my bathroom.
What is going on with her and Todd?
Todd is beat, sweaty, and sagging. “Hard day at the office?” I ask.
“Just finished unloading twenty sheets of drywall.” He wipes his forehead on his sleeve. “I hope you have beer.”
Darn. I always forget. “I
will
get beer. I promise. In the meantime, how about a nice refreshing glass of white wine?”
will
get beer. I promise. In the meantime, how about a nice refreshing glass of white wine?”
“And after that should we go shoe shopping?”
“All right. All right. No need to be sexist.” I try to get him to eat some salsa, but that's the last thing he wants. He wants to get the heavy lifting done with so he can go home, take a shower, and collapse.
“Where's Hugh?” he asks, lifting a chair.“Mom tells me he's in town. Shouldn't he be moving you?”
“Jet-lagged.”
“That's no excuse. You're moving. You're going to be his wife. He shouldn't be leaving all this hard work to his future brother-in-law.”
"You're right. It's a crime.” I grab the bag of sheets. “Ready?”
Todd grunts, still not satisfied that Hugh's not helping. We carry our stuff to the curb, where Patty's Porsche is parked, locked, and loaded.
“She here alone?”
I have no idea what that's supposed to mean until I remember Captain Moe. “Yeah. She has the night off to help me pack. She's inside, um, packing, right now.”
He lowers the box to the sidewalk. “You have to talk her out of this.”
“What?”
“This stupid wedding. I mean, this guy's never around. Never. He could be leading a double life with another wife for all we know. Some scum after her hard-earned money. That's what I think he is.”
Other books
Assassin by Tara Moss
Oleander Girl by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
A Dangerous Nativity by Caroline Warfield
Jenny and James by Georgeanna Bingley
Carter Finally Gets It by Brent Crawford
The No-cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley
Animal Attraction by Jill Shalvis
Disaster for Hire by Franklin W. Dixon
Honoria Ravena by The Devil's Trap [In Darkness We Dwell Book 2]
Honeymoon To Die For by Dianna Love