The Wedding Plot

I’ve never once met anyone who actually enjoyed weddings. Or wedding rehearsals, for that matter, which is where I am now, surrounded by bouquets that only make me sneeze. The three-inch heels on my feet look fantastic, but I may not have a pinky toe tomorrow morning. And I already spilled red wine on my $200 dress.

All to say, I don’t want to be here. If I had a choice, I would be curled up in bed, watching the latest episode of Love Island.

“You remember the plan?” A whisper into my ear from behind breaks my concentration. The purse in my hand nearly drops to the ground.

“Jesus. Warn a girl next time,” I say, slapping my hand over my heart.

“Here. This’ll calm your nerves.” Rick thrusts a champagne flute into my hand, one of those tall glasses with the couple’s name elegantly etched into the glass. I chug the few ounces in one swallow.

“So.” Rick raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, I remember the plan.” How could I forget? Link—my boss, the father of the bride, and Rick’s uncle—hates his soon-to-be son-in-law and will do anything to make sure his angelic daughter never says I do. That’s where I come in.

“Good.” I study Rick. His perfectly cut jaw. His chemically treated blonde hair. He’d be my perfect match if I hadn’t known him since kindergarten. Rick is more of a brother to me than boyfriend material, and I value his friendship too much.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I turn fully to Rick. He rubs my shoulders with his manicured fingers.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

I shrug. “If she loves him, I don’t understand why she can’t be happy.”

Rick sighs deeply and drops his head, like he hasn’t told me a dozen times before. “Because he’s a parasite. He will do what he needs to do for money and break Hilary’s heart in the process.”

“So why doesn’t your uncle talk to him?”

Another sigh. “Because he can’t have Hilary hate him. No, you need Harry to cheat on her. Let Harry be the bad guy.” Sure, the duplicitous way is always better.

And now the reason I’m here. If you haven’t picked up by now, I’m the bait.

“There’s got to be another way. I don’t like this.” I shake his hands off my shoulders and place the flute on the nearest table. A hand grabs my elbow and pulls me back until we’re nose to nose.

“You want that promotion, don’t you?” Don’t hate me, but it’s true. Link promised me a new director position if I could prove that Harry is cheating on Hilary.

I told you I hate weddings.

“Yes,” I say, but I don’t like saying it. Even thinking about what I need to do makes my skin crawl.

“Look, he’s heading to the bathroom alone. Now’s your chance. I’ll tell Link.” I turn to the left and see Harry wave to a few guests before slipping inside. I give one more help-me look to Rick, but he’s already slinking away to the dance floor, leaving me alone with my anxiety.

Taking a steadying breath, I walk as normally as I can toward the bathroom. You want this promotion. You deserve this promotion. You just need to ruin this guy’s life.

I groan before making my way into the empty lobby. I look over my shoulder. With no witnesses, I cross the room and push open the men’s bathroom door just an inch. No one besides Harry is inside.

It smells like pee masked by peppermint, which makes sense with the peppermint plug-in next to the light switch.

I give it a few seconds until I can no longer hear a stream hitting the water. When the faucet runs, I push open the door.

Harry is already looking at me through the mirror when I present myself. He’s handsome enough, but a heavy air of arrogance surrounds him. Immediately, I can tell I couldn’t stand being in a room with him for more than five minutes.

“You,” he says with a grin. I wrap my hand around my torso.

“Me?”

“I noticed you were staring all evening.” He crosses his muscled arms. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

Harry is the only thing between me and a comfortable future. I lick my lips and smile. “No, I don’t think we have.”

“You better be careful there,” he teases. “I’m the soon-to-be husband hosting this little shindig.”

Promotion, I remind myself before stepping forward. “Oh, I know who you are.”

His grin grows wider as he adjusts himself. Right there in front of me. I want to gag, but I’m supposed to be attracted to this man. I swallow until my sickness crawls back down. “Will you tell me your name?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I think it’s better you don’t know.” I should’ve been an actress.

He nods deeply, like it’s the smartest idea he’s ever heard, but then he looks at his watch and his head switches direction. “No. I need to go back out there.”

But Link hasn’t caught us yet. I need proof you’re a cheat if I’m ever going to get promoted. “Are you sure? We can be quick.”

It shouldn’t be a hard decision. If he really loves Hilary, he could shove me out of the way and kick me out of this wedding. But he only stands there, playing every possibility out in his head. Will he get caught? Will his wife forgive him? It would be only one time, wouldn’t it? Each second that passes makes me despise Harry just a little bit more. Any feelings of attraction completely go out the window.

I cross the distance between us until I’m caught in his over-cologned orbit. I lean forward, and I’ll give him credit, he leans back. I sigh, “Give me your phone.”

“What for?”

So I can take incriminating pictures of myself as proof for later. “You’ll see.”

I lay out my palm, keeping eye contact until he digs into his pocket to procure his cell. He drops it into my hand, and any last shred of faith I have in this man is gone. He may not be tempted on his wedding day, but I’m saving Hilary from a future fate that’s bound to happen. 

I turn the phone toward his face to unlock the screen and open the camera app. I take a handful of pictures from different angles: kissy-faced, boobs popping, eyes calling out to “come here.” For my pièce de résistance, I engage selfie mode on the camera and kiss Harry on the cheek. He happily accepts the kiss and reaches out his hand softly to touch my lower back. I let it stay there as I open the camera roll to appreciate my photo skills. I don’t look like I’m going to be sick in any of them, and Harry seems to be enjoying himself too. Good.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I can’t have any bad pictures out there,” I say. He reaches out to snap the camera from my hand, and my finger slips on the camera roll hard enough to skim through months’ worth of pictures until it stops. So does my breath.

I squint, pulling the phone closer to me. “What the hell?”

The camera disappears, replaced by Harry’s face in mine. “Get out.”

“Did you… was that…”

I blink away a bloody memory of his face, like an afterimage. But I can’t unsee it. I never will.

“You have no clue what you just saw,” he seethes, his pointer finger inches from my face. “If you ever tell anyone what you saw, I will kill you…”

Too. The word sits between us, unspoken. After what I just saw, it’s not a threat. It’s a promise.

I nod. “I’ll never say a thing.”

Harry stands there, unblinking. Too scared to look away, I return his stare until he recognizes… what, I’m not sure. Compliance? Affirmation? “Good. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my fiancée.” He steps around me without a second look and pushes open the bathroom door. With one last glance and a cold wave, he walks away.

“Oh hey, man,” he says to Rick as they pass in the lobby.

My knees give out, and I crumble to the ground. Rick rushes over, the door softly shutting behind him, but not before Harry gives me one last icy look. Don’t say a word.

“Did you do it?” Rick looks at me in earnest. “Are you a director now?” I can only shake my head. “Dammit, that’s too bad.”

“I’m sorry,” I can only say, holding back tears. I’m sorry, Hilary. Every woman for herself.