The Wedding Date
The Wedding Date
Zrinka Jelic
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.
Editor:
Leanore Elliott
Book Design:
Wicked Muse
Cover Art:
Kennedy Kelly K Creative Designs
The Wedding Date
Zrinka Jelic
©Copyright 2017
Acknowledgments
I have to thank many who helped me in getting this story into the shape. My wonderful critique partners, Jj Keller and T.F. Walsh. Thank you for reading the first, raw drafts and making me delete and rewrite scenes, even if I agonized at times, I know your insight was invaluable.
And a special thanks goes to Editor, Leanore Elliott for wonderful edits and formatting.
CHAPTER ONE
Nerissa squeezed the hard shaft, running her hand along its length. The man next to her moaned, with pleasure or disgust, she couldn’t tell. Mattered not, her fantasy of making love to Mark replayed in her head. And she loved it.
“Miss?” The guy with the store’s apron popped up from behind the stacked melons and pointed at her hands. “Are you going to buy that cucumber?”
Her daydream shattered. She tilted her chin at the vegetable. “Oh, I was just testing for freshness. The last one I bought turned soft in my fridge in two days. I had to throw it out. I hate to waste food.”
“Right,” the employee stretched the syllable. “Like those plums you squeezed last week.”
Okay, now she was officially the produce destroyer. Damn it, she had to make sure she was getting the quality goods for her money. Giving the guy her best leave-me-the-hell-alone look, she dumped the cucumber in the grocery cart and threw in a bag of raw almonds. Where was her list? She needed to start crossing items off. She realized a she’d left the notepad on the kitchen table again, and was trying to remember what else was on that recommended diet. If this weight reduction plan didn’t do what it promised, she would have to bring out the big guns. Even her stretchy pants couldn’t stretch any more. The group power training wasn’t her thing, not with her coordination that could be outmatched by a one armed monkey climbing a tree. Like the Zumba class two weeks ago—whatever direction the entire class moved, she would go the opposite way. No wonder people snickered and scoffed behind her back. Everyone in her gym bragged about the Cross-Fit and the instructor, the dreamy Dr. Mark Warren.
Maybe she could find a spot at the back of the room where she would be inconspicuous and could check out his training techniques.
The chime of her cell phone stopped her from reaching for a bag of Brussels sprouts. She dug inside her purse and retrieved the mobile. The word ‘Mom’ flashed on the screen.
Crap, she’d meant to return Mom’s calls from weeks ago. Brace yourself, Neri, a scolding is coming. She would be in for some real lecturing.
Neri took in a long breath, pressed her hand on her chest and her phone to her ear. “Hi Ma,” she quipped, mustering the sweetest tone possible. “I was just about to call you.”
“Don’t try that one,” Mom harped. “You know how to work the phone. Why didn’t you return my calls?”
The lump in Neri’s throat didn’t go down at her hard swallow. Of course, her mom hadn’t bought the lie. “I meant to, but got busy and it slipped my mind.” Neri eyed the bag of Brussels sprouts. Judging by Mom’s irate tone, veggies would be of no help to get over whatever news mom was about to deliver.
“Aunt Hellen is still waiting on your RSVP. It’s just a month away and my sister needs to confirm the reservations with the FantainBlu,” Mom’s words flew faster. “Since I know you’ll find some lame excuse not to attend your cousin’s Sandra’s wedding, I’ve RSVP’d for you.”
Neri took a sharp breath in and almost chocked. She didn’t suppose replying with maybe next time would be appropriate. “You did what?”
“I told her you’d be honored to attend.” Mom’s voice slowed and changed to cheerful tone. “Come on, darling. The family is flying in all the way from Croatia and you can’t make it two blocks away. Many haven’t seen you in years. It’s about time you introduced Mark to all of us. You two have been together for how long now? Some have started to think you made him up.”
Oh, the gorgeous, blue-eyed, dark-haired and hard-bodied doctor is real, our relationship isn’t.
“I’m more than just two blocks away.” When it came to her family, moving three cities away from them wasn’t far enough. “Oh, I don’t know…Saturdays are my busiest days at the school.” True, she’d rather do anything else but listen to screeching violins while her pupils struggle through the exercises, but at the end of the day she left with wad of money and bleeding ears. Mom had RSVP’d. Now she would have to show up at her cousin’s dreaded wedding. A million possible excuses zipped through her mind. Maybe she could say she won an all-expense paid trip that coincidently took place the same week. Hmm, what are the odds that would happen? Or she could say she came down with a rare case of small pox, the disease had been eradicated—no one would believe her. No one would buy it if she said she must mow her lawn, even if they knew her yard was the size of Texas. Of course not, she lived in an apartment building. No, unless she got abducted by aliens, she was attending this wedding. How would she pull off showing up without her imaginary boyfriend Mark? Damn.
“Don’t give me that, Nerissa.” Mom’s stern tone returned. “You can clear your schedule for once. I’m sure the music school can give you one Saturday off. Besides, it’s time your mother met him, don’t you think? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
And there it was your time’s slippin’ away speech.
“Mom.” Neri groaned inwardly, trying to get a word in, but her mom was on a roll. She turned her attention to the herbs in an attractive packaging, listening to her mom going on about Mark hopefully, being husband material and not to let him get away if she wanted kids with a good man.
“There is time for me to get married and have kids.” Neri blew out a long breath of frustration. That would get Mom on a whole new rampage.
“Tell that to your woman parts. You think it’s an easy job to grow a baby inside you at a young age, but when you’re older...” Mom paused to answer something to Dad yelling in the background, then returned to the phone. “And if you want to use me for granny service, you better do it soon. You think I’ll have energy to run after a toddler in my eighties? Just bring that fine man to meet your family.”
Jeez, Mom, is that an order? Certainly sounded like one.
“Mark’s busy too, being a doctor and all. I can’t guarantee he’ll be able to free his time.” Neri cringed at how easily she lied. Mom was not going to take no for answer, but it was worth the try.
“You see that he does,” Mom barked. “In the meantime, you’ve dress fittings at the Urban Bride.”
Neri froze and gripped the phone tighter. “What the heck for?”
“Why, you’re a bridesmaid. And you’d know that if you bothered to return my phone calls. One of her maids is moving away and won’t be able to attend.”
No, not again. Hadn’t she had more than her fair share of being a bridesmaid? Why would her cousin do this? To embarrass her, by stuffing her into the ugliest dress and pairing her with some dweeb of groomsman that every other bridesmaid avoided. Neri would bet anything the girl wasn’t able to stand bridezilla’s wr
aith. The poor maid most likely sold her house and moved miles away. Well, Sandra was about to find out Neri wasn’t one bit bothered by all her drama. Not anymore. The princess could throw her fits.
“I know you’re reluctant because you’ve put on a few pounds. By the way, how’s that weight loss coming along?”
Her mother’s question startled Neri. Knowing her mother, she most likely unburdened her heart. She scrubbed her hand across her face. “Mom, tell me you didn’t mention my weight to anyone.”
“I might’ve mentioned it.”
This time she couldn’t suppress a groan. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s not like no one will notice as soon as they see you. This way, they’re prepared.”
The orange in Neri’s hand threatened to burst under her grip. She placed the fruit back with its friends on the pile. No need to enforce her unofficial title of produce destroyer. “You’re making it sound as if I gained a ton.”
The number on her scale had continuously crept toward two hundred pounds for the past year. No matter how hard she exercised and ate right, her efforts showed little improvement. Any few pounds loss was gained back and then some.
However, standing in the middle of the grocery store wasn’t the best place to wallow in self-pity. She needed to end this phone call. “Okay, Mom. I’ll see you soon, and we’ll talk.” Mom’s voice still poured through the line when Neri tapped the end call button.
In a hurry, she pocketed her phone, heading straight for the junk food. Today’s revelation would require heck of a lot more than a bag of Brussels sprouts.
A little boy lay on the floor, kicking and screaming as his mother placed the bag of cheese puffs back on the shelf.
If only Neri could have a meltdown like that toddler. Except, she could have all the chips she wanted with no one to stop her, and that was her problem, she was her own enabler.
After loading her cart with bags of chocolate pretzels, ketchup chips and trail mix she’d denied herself for months, she picked up a large tub of caramel swirl ice cream and headed for the cash register. Yep, tonight was wallowing in self-pity night. Thanks mom.
At the checkout line, a headline on the front page of a fashion magazine caught her attention. She picked up the glossy publication and turned to page eighteen.
The summer is nearly here. Is your body ready for the beach?
A beach body. She huffed and rolled her eyes. The article sported pictures of all too familiar exercises that would straighten and tone the stomach, legs and butt. She stared at the models demonstrating the moves. Their perfect bodies squeezed into spandex shorts and sports bras. Why wasn’t her body like theirs? She’d done those same moves for years. Well, some people inherit money, others talent. Her? She got her mother’s thick thighs, and her father’s beaklike nose. Fat on her legs could get burned off with hard, consistent workouts. Her nose was a different story. The only option would be plastic surgery, if only she had the money.
“Miss, are you ready to check out?”
The cashier’s gruff voice made her jump. She put the mag back. No, she wasn’t ready. She backed out of the line, bumping into the other shoppers’ carts.
“Pardon me. ‘Scuse me. I apologize. I’m so sorry.” Jeez, the grumps all because they needed to make room for her to pass through.
In the snack’s aisle, she placed the dangerous food back on the shelves. All but a small box of cookies, after all she was allowed one cheat day.
Mark’s cross fit class couldn’t be that bad. She was about to find out in a day or two, maybe three, maybe five…oh, what the heck she would go and if she could muster the courage to talk to him, ask what she was doing wrong in her get-fit efforts. She’d have to move aside the tall and skinny bitches who circled him all the time. Then she could try a chat. Stupid idea, she didn’t know any good conversation starters. Her tongue would tie up and nothing but an incoherent stammer would come out of her mouth.
If, by some miracle, everything played out to her advantage, then she would be over the moon, but she may as well dream in Technicolor. She could almost picture it, no not almost, she already did. The two of them entering the banquet hall together, him handsome as hell in his tux, her in a flowing gown. Everyone’s jaw would hit the floor when they saw her arm wrapped around Mark’s. There she went daydreaming again. There was no chance in Hell that would ever happen.
Life is too short to wait for the perfect moment. She just needed to blurt the question and hope not to make a total ass of herself. For over a year, she’d been a member in his gym. They’d bumped into each other. They weren’t strangers. His smiles and friendly hellos could’ve been directed to someone behind her, or they could just be good business practices. Still, she could’ve mistakenly believed he directed them at her for personal reasons.
The thought of attending the wedding flipped her stomach. Without a doubt, it would be a grand affair and knowing her cousin, nothing but the best would suit her taste. Neri didn’t even own a nice dress, but why buy one only to wear it once? She couldn’t see a time when she’d ever have to don it again. And if she went solo, she would be stuck sitting with her parents or worse, at the singles, aka losers’ table. She was the last unmarried and not dating person over the age of ten in her family, only thank to her lies, no one knew that. If she couldn’t get Mark to accompany her, she could end up sitting at the kids’ table. Still, better than sitting between Mom and Dad.
"Historia est magistra vitae,” she murmured while squinting at the small print of some healthy snacks that had caught her attention. New and improved it said on the box in bright yellow letters. Hmm, who bought it when it was old and crummy? A premonition that attending the wedding would turn into a huge blunder overwhelmed her. Yes, the past taught life’s lessons…except when it came to her. She didn’t make the same mistake twice, but five or six times just to be sure. Then again, those who claimed they haven’t erred— never did anything at all.
CHAPTER TWO
Mark squeezed the orange and scrutinized the fruit from every angle. Neri’s boobs would be about this size. If only he could get his hands on the real things. As is, he would have to fantasize with citrus and melons.
“Hey man, you’re gonna eat that orange or make love to it?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the wide open door of his office where one of the trainers stood, sporting the black spandex shirt with his ‘Get Fit’ gym’s logo. “Huh?”
“Yeah, you’ve been gazing at it as if you wanna rip its skin and ravish it.” The trainer pointed the clipboard in his hand at Mark. “It’s late, and I’m beat. Everything is turned off. Heading home. Enjoy eating the orange or whatever you plan to do with it.”
Mark cleared his throat and put the fruit down, pretending to turn his attention to the stack of unopened envelopes. “Will do.”
The ticking of the wall clock, facing his office desk mixed with the clicking of the keys on his laptop. The gym member’s accounts list filled the screen. He scrolled down until he found Neri’s picture. A bit of guilt stirred deep in the recess of his conscience. Just because the records were under his fingertips, didn’t mean he should access them for his own advantage. Then again, owning a gym came with certain benefits, like checking out the profile of the elusive redheaded girl who’d occupied his thoughts for the past few months. He’d run out of options for how to approach her, though all he’d done so far was said an occasional hi to her.
At the click of the mouse, her stats appeared. He leaned closer to the screen. She worked out too much, some days she stayed for two hours in the gym. Obviously, she was unaware of her perfection, full in all the right places. He’d seen this obsession before. The girl was on some kind of a crazy mission to get in shape for a special occasion, as in she needed to fit in a dress. A wedding dress perhaps? Not impossible. His heart sunk at the thought. He shook his head. Couples liked to work out together; he hadn’t seen her in the company of a man or a woman for that matter. She trained alone.
His cellphone buzzed and the picture of his buddy, Dave filled the screen. He didn’t have to guess what the call would be about. At this late the hour, the local watering hole couldn’t get Dave out of their establishment.
He accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear. “I’ll be there in five.”
After powering down his computer and shutting the overhead lights, he left his office illuminated in the dim light of the desk lamp. The equipment appeared like robots fresh off the assembly line in the empty gym. The door closed with a soft click behind him. A balmy spring night enveloped him on his way to his car. Judging by the early offset of warm weather, Ontario would have long and hot summer. It was about time, two years of rainy, damp and cool summer weather confined people indoors and made them sickly and moody. Sunshine helped combat many ailments.
Two blocks down the road, he arrived at the Irish pub.