“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please.” Nikos got up and clinked a fork against his glass. “On behalf of Thomas, Isabelle, and their families, I’d like to welcome you here tonight…”
He had a delicious English-isn’t-my-first-language accent that told me he could curl his tongue around words and caress them in ways that—
“Moti,” Isabelle hissed. “Are you listening?”
“Sorry, what?” I scooted closer.
“My flower is slipping.”
I tucked it back in her hair. “So…will Nikos be coming with us on the cruise?”
“Of course. He’s part of the wedding party.”
“Just him? No wife, no girlfriend?”
“He’s not married. And as far as I know, he’s not bringing anyone to the wedding either.” Isabelle shot me an impatient look. She was too high on engagement fever to put two and two together. Maybe she never saw his thumbs up close to connect the dots.
“Sorry. I just…” I trailed off. This was Isabelle’s day. Now was not the time to bring up the best man’s extra digits.
Nikos was making a toast. We raised our glasses. I caught a glimpse of his ass, but then Isabelle’s up-do obscured it. As any self-respecting woman would, I tilted my chair a smidgen to get a better view. Now the back of Thomas’s head was in the way.
Dammit. What does a maid of honor have to do to check out the best man’s butt?
I scraped my chair back a few inches.
Next thing I knew, my chair toppled over the edge of the platform with me on it. I gasped as I hit the floor. The sparkling grape juice I’d been holding up to toast Isabelle and Thomas splashed on my face like a cold, rude bitch-slap. Miraculously, no one seemed to notice, given that I was pretty much hidden behind the cake. I might’ve recovered, gotten off the floor, picked up my chair and,“Heigh-ho, back to work I go.”But no, I was stuck, my chair wedged in the space between the back of the platform and the wall. Caught at an angle, I stared at the ceiling with my legs sticking straight up toward it, my bum still on the seat. A classic Pilates position—the V-Up. Go ahead. Look it up. I’ll wait. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.
Isabelle turned around at the thud of my hundred and forty-five-pound frame hitting the floor at a forty-five-degree angle. Then Thomas caught on. He looked startled to see me with mylehengaup around my ears, but Isabelle stopped him from getting up. She was smiling at whatever Nikos was saying. Poor Thomas looked confused.
Welcome to the family, bro, I thought.Appearances are everything. The show must go on. I’ll just lie here until I figure out which is going to kill me first. Death by Underwear (my Spanx iskillingme) or Death by Embarrassment (please don’t let Nikos turn around and see me like this).
And then it struck me. I’d let Rachel Auntie down. All this time she’d been concerned about Dolly making a scene and there I was, Master of Disaster.
I blinked at the ceiling.Why are you so hopeless, Moti?
After Nikos finished his speech, Isabelle summoned the event coordinator to help me up. Discreetly. Seamlessly. So that, while dinner was being served, Mission Moti was covertly under way behind the stage.
“Thank you.” I heaved a sigh of relief once I got dislodged from the chair. My clothes had a huge wet spot, my hair was sticky from grape juice, but I was still holding my glass. I might’ve goofed big time, but I’d kept the glass from shattering.
“So sorry,” I said to Isabelle.
“That won’t be necessary,” she said, waving away the event coordinator who was propping my chair back on the platform. “I think you should go sit with Naani and Dolly Auntie, Moti.”
“I…um… Okay.” I grabbed a napkin to hide the wet spot on my clothes.
That’s when I realized that I was being fired as Isabelle’s maid of honor.
I should’ve felt relieved. I wouldn’t have to worry about throwing Isabelle the perfect bridal shower. Or making goody bags with loofahs, lotions, and scented beads that made me break out in a rash. No more agonizing over how I’d pay for the frothy peach concoction the maid of honor was supposed to wear. Yet, I felt the complete opposite. I’d failed at something yet again.
Aware of the curious eyes on me, I plastered on a smile as I made my way through the guest tables.
“Why is your skirt wet?” asked Dolly. “What happened? Why aren’t you sitting with Isabelle?”
“She doesn’t want me there.”
“You messed up, didn’t you, Moti? I knew it. I knew you’d end up doing something silly. And for God’s sake, wipe that stupid grin off your face. This is shameful. Disgraceful. How am I going to show my face to everyone?”
“Are you okay,beta?” Naani asked, while Dolly rambled on.
