My Plus One = You

Happy Faces

HAPPY FACES

RACHEL

When you’re a 34-year-old perpetual bridesmaid, all the wasted flowers, awkward speeches, and shrimp canapés crush on your soul after a while. And yet, there I was at 2 p.m. in the lobby of The Phoenician, in heels that I could barely stand in, wearing an unforgiving, sleeveless chartreuse satin dress, holding flowers that made my nose twitch.

It all started after COVID. Once we made it through the lockdowns, toilet paper shortages, and despondency, there was this feeling that life was precious, you know? And so, eight of my friends decided the ones they were with were the ones , and it was time to make things official.

That April wedding marked the tenth in my career as a bridesmaid. Everyone was enjoying newlywed bliss, and I just deleted my Tinder profile after getting catfished for the third time. I tried not to let it show, but you can only watch other people’s happy unions for so long without wondering, When is it my turn ?

While I’ve grown to hate weddings, I couldn’t love my friends more. I loved Sarah Keller and her husband-to-be, James Whitlock, and was only too happy to accept their invitation to stand with them.

I was the first finished with hair and makeup and decided to wait with Sarah before the bridal party started to line up. When I offered to hold her flowers so she could adjust the sash around her waist, she gasped and grabbed her earlobe.

“I lost my earring!”

“Oh no,” I said, immediately scanning the floor around us.

“I can’t lose that earring! These earrings were my grandmother’s. They’re my something old ,” Sarah cried. “If I don’t have them on, we’ll have bad luck!”

“I’ll find it,” I said, setting her bouquet on a nearby table.

I remembered the photographer snapping a picture of Sarah putting the emerald stud in her ear when we were getting dressed. “I’ll go back to where we got ready,” I said.

My eyes scanned the path ahead of me as I retraced our steps back inside to the bridal suite where we had done hair, makeup, and shimmied into our dresses. The glossy marble floors of the hotel lobby didn’t have a speck of debris on them, let alone a sparkling jeweled earring. Spotting the stud on the patterned carpet of the hallway leading to the bridal banquet room was going to prove to be more challenging.

My heart sank when I heard muffled voices in the hallway. I hoped a random passerby hadn’t picked it up already. When I rounded the corner, I froze and my jaw went slack. There was no immediate way to process what I was looking at.

Foster, one of the groomsmen, held up a pair of tuxedo pants for a man I didn’t recognize, while another groomsman, Matt, unbuttoned a dress shirt.

With well-defined muscles and clad only in dark boxer briefs, the new guy looked like the kind of man a person would pin to their secret Pinterest board, and I couldn’t help but stare. Wavy chestnut hair, chiseled abs, and intense eyes a shade of teal that had not been classified by scientists yet.

Foster flicked his eyes my way. “We can explain.” He was also in his underwear and picking up a pair of pants that lay at his feet.

All three men stared back at me, and all I could think to say was, “Okay.”

Hot Pinterest Man snatched the pants out of Foster’s hand. “These aren’t going to fit me.”

“Just try them,” Matt said, before turning to me. “Rachel, thank God you’re here.”

I approached them, not sure of how I could help. “I’m looking for Sarah’s earring.”

“Oh!” Foster said, slipping into the pair of pants he pulled off the floor. “I just found an earring.”

“You did?” I asked, relieved.

“Yeah, green one,” he said, fishing it out of his suit coat pocket and dropping it into my palm.

“That’s it! Yay!” I said. “So, um, what’s going on here?”

“Rachel, meet Cameron Nash. Cam, Rachel,” Matt said. “He’s agreed to stand in for Zach last minute.”

“Hello,” Cam said with a faint smile.

“Nice to meet you,” I squeaked. Alarmed by the amount of heat rushing into my cheeks, I turned to Foster. “What happened to Zach?”

“Cholla cactus bit him in the ass,” he replied.

I blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Zach had too much Patrón last night after the rehearsal dinner and fell down in the cactus garden on the way back to his room,” Foster said.

“Oh my God, is he okay?” I asked.

“They’re slowly plucking the spines out of his ass in EmergiCare,” Foster said. “He’ll be fine. I think he’s still numb from all the alcohol.”

I punched Matt’s arm. “Why was no one supervising him?”

Matt shrugged. “We were, but you know Zach. Always last to leave the party.”

“We couldn’t get a new suit in time, so we’re trying to get Cam into this one,” Foster offered.

It was clear that Cam was not Zach’s body double as his muscles were putting a strain on Zach’s poor shirt buttons. Though the shirt tried to stretch, it was no match for Cam’s broad chest. He fastened the last button, but before he could get to the gray suit jacket, a button popped off the shirt and hit me square in the forehead.

“Ow!” I cringed.

“Shit!” Foster cried.

Cam’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

I rubbed my forehead and picked up the button. “I’m fine. It’s going to take a lot more than a rogue button to knock me out. Um, that shirt is way too small.”

“Well, we’re out of options,” Matt said, checking his watch. “We’re supposed to start lining up in five minutes.”

“I have an idea,” I said, hustling off to enact the only solution I could think of.

First, I ran to Sarah, who screamed and hugged me when I returned the earring. Next, I hustled to the lobby and to the smiling woman at the concierge desk. “Do you have a pair of scissors?”

“Of course,” she said, reaching into her desk drawer.

“Thank you!” I called over my shoulder as I headed back. “I’ll bring these right back!”

Ignoring the advice from my childhood to not run with scissors, I sprinted back to the hallway. I had them pointed down, resulting in concerned looks from the guys still trying to get Cam into the suit jacket.

Did you know dashing into a room with scissors pointed at people kind of makes you look like a crazed serial killer about to stab someone?

“Whoa!” Cam said, raising his arms. “This escalated.”

“Relax,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Take that coat off.”

“But we just jammed him into it,” Matt protested.

“Take it off,” I said, snapping the scissors.

“Don’t argue with her,” Foster said. “She’s armed.”

Cam peeled the jacket off and handed it to Foster. I turned Cam to the side. “Lift up your arms.” I cut carefully up the shirt’s side seams, and the material loosened enough so that it buttoned without creating gaps.

Cam lowered his arms and tried again to slip into the jacket. “Thanks.” He tucked the shredded shirt into his pants, which were so tight they left little to the imagination. The jacket barely covered him, but at least it was on.

By the time I got back to the hall after returning the scissors, the wedding party had gathered outside to line up in the courtyard that framed the lawn where the ceremony would take place. Cam waited for me with his hands crossed in front of him while Janet, the wedding planner, pulled a piece of lint off Cam’s shoulder.

“Mr. Nash, you’re a life saver,” she said. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find another suit on such short notice.”

“It’s fine,” he said, his expression strained.

“It will have to work now, won’t it?” She drew in a sharp breath and gripped her clipboard. “Now, Mr. Nash, I know you weren’t at the rehearsal dinner, but?—”

“It’s okay,” Cam said with a half smile. “I know what to do.”

Janet said “okay” and turned her attention to Sarah and her father, who were waiting anxiously behind us.

“You’ve done this before?” I asked Cam as I took my place next to him.

He paused, keeping his eyes forward. “Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately?”

“Let’s just say,” he leaned into me, “… I don’t like weddings.”

I tilted my head and glanced at him. “Well, we have that in common.”

The corner of his mouth twitched as processional music filtered out into the courtyard, and the flower girls assumed their positions.

“All right everyone!” Janet sang. “Happy faces!”

Cam and I took a small step forward. He stuck his elbow out, and when I wrapped my arm in his, a prickle of energy danced along my skin. I stole glances at him out of the corner of my eye. I wondered what it would look like if he smiled because this man was certified hot even when he was scowling. His chestnut hair curled at the nape of his neck and might look tousled, wild, and free if it hadn’t been for some product keeping it in place. A stubbled beard framed his mouth and faint freckles dotted his nose and cheeks.

Naturally, I was so caught up in trying to get a better look at him that I missed seeing a crack in the courtyard tiles, and I wobbled in my impossibly high heels.

His muscular arm tightened on mine, and he helped stabilize me as I lurched into his shoulder—and there was that prickle again. I shook it off, unnerved by the fact that I had known this man for less than thirty minutes and his touch had turned me into a human sparkler.

I took a deep breath and smiled at all the beaming faces once we made our way through the aisle of chairs. Our feet kept perfect time with the music and the runner laid out on the lawn made it easier to walk toward the wooden arch decorated with colorful flowers. Cam had done this before, though I didn’t see a ring on his finger. He released me to take my spot with the other bridesmaids, and he cracked a smile when the officiant made a joke about him looking a little different than Zach.

James stumbled over his vows, and everyone laughed when the officiant took out a cloth and dabbed James’s forehead. I laughed into my bouquet, and when I glanced up, Cam’s eyes had settled on me. His eyes were misty and his expression downturned. Everyone else laughed during light moments of the ceremony, but his jaw remained set. I’ve never seen a groomsman looking so forlorn. His last wedding must have been awful.

Sarah wiped tears from under her eyes, and she and James kissed when they were pronounced husband and wife. Once the applause and cheers died down as the happy couple made their way down the aisle, Cam took my hand again and wove my arm through his as we exited.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yep,” he said, still stone-faced.

I bit my lip. “I know we only just met, but you don’t seem okay.”

He flashed a clearly fake smile and let out a low chuckle, keeping up appearances for the people in the rows of white chairs. “I’m good.”

“Well, thank you for covering for Zach,” I said, turning to him. “Are you sticking around for photos?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. Thanks for your help with the suit.”

“Of course. Anytime you need someone to cut the seams of your shirt, I’m your girl.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Wedding season in the desert hits different. At the end of March, the flora in Arizona awakens, and the blooming trees and flowers sweeten the air. By April, the scenery is soaked in a dazzling display of color. The sky glows at dusk and it’s the perfect temperature for an outdoor event.

While the bride and groom mingled in the cocktail area after their photos, I stole a quiet moment by walking through the reception area before the guests arrived. I marveled at every detail, how the entire ensemble sat waiting, poised and ready in perfect stillness. Guests’ names written on desert wildflower seed packets for the seating assignments, succulents mixed with orange and magenta flowers as table centerpieces, and a simple white wedding cake off to the side waiting to be cut.

James and Sarah kept their guest list to seventy invites, which was perfect since around fifty of those people were able to attend. Small, quaint, charming. That was the vibe they wanted.

A smaller lawn with a canopy of string lights strewn overhead created the perfect backdrop for the reception. I stopped at a cocktail table to breathe in the quiet before the joyful chaos descended on the divine little garden.

Familiar giggles sounded from behind the decorative photo booth hedge, and fellow bridesmaids and my best friends, Laura and Emily, emerged with glasses of champagne in tow.

“Yay! We made it!” Laura cheered as she handed me a glass of bubbly.

“That we did. Cheers, ladies,” I said.

We clinked our glasses, celebrating the end of all the wedding planning and the start of the wedding enjoying.

“Oh boy, my feet are killing me,” Emily said, shrinking an inch once she slipped out of her shoes. “Great ceremony. Everything was perfect.”

“Except for Zach falling in a cactus patch,” I offered.

Laura winked at me. “Too bad for Zach, but good for you. You got to walk with Cam, that little hottie.”

“There’s nothing little about him,” Emily said. “He was literally bulging out of that suit.”

“But where did he even come from?” I insisted. “Does he work for Groomsman for Hire or something?”

“Cam?” Laura said. “He went to U of A with Foster, actually. He’s a great guy.”

“Why have I never seen him before?” I asked. “He’s never been at any events with Foster.”

“I don’t think he gets out much,” Laura said, pulling out some pins holding her wild raven hair in place.

“Looked pretty sad during the ceremony,” I said.

“I noticed that too,” Emily said.

I took a sip of bubbly before continuing. “When I asked him about it, Cam said he didn’t like weddings.”

“I’ll ask Foster what’s up with him,” Laura said, taking a long pull of champagne. “Unless you ask him tonight, Rachel. I noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off you during the ceremony.”

“Hmm, don’t think I’ll get a chance to inquire about his tragic backstory,” I said. “He stood for a few photos and then left.”

“Probably went to change,” Emily offered.

“I don’t think so.” I held my champagne glass up, watching the bubbles soar up from the bottom. After all the blur of the day getting ready, I felt like I was melting into the fizz. “I saw the look on his face. He couldn’t wait to get out of here.”

“He’ll be back,” Laura said, tipping her glass to me. “And then you can have some fun at a wedding for once.”

“I have fun,” I insisted.

“With a man ,” Laura said. “Not dancing with us all night.”

“Hey,” I protested. “Phil and I shared some passion at Dave and Megan’s wedding.”

“Shared some passion?” Laura said. “What does that mean?”

“Yea,” Emily said, finishing her champagne. “Can you be more specific?”

“I, well …” Even though I had been guzzling champagne, my mouth felt as dry as the gravel framing the turf we were standing on. “Can we talk about this later?”

Laura narrowed her eyes. “Yes, and you know we will.”

“Only if you want to,” Emily said, rubbing my arm gently.

Eventually, the bride and groom with the rest of the bridal party joined us, and we moved through dinner, speeches, and clapping around their first cake slice. Once the dancing started, I was four cocktails in and ready to rumble.

Here’s the thing, I love dancing. I love owning the floor, letting my body surrender to each beat. Once the music starts, the dance floor is one of the places I can truly let go, with or without liquid courage. After the obligatory playing of YMCA, the DJ started “The Hustle.” I enthusiastically led those who were brave enough to line up with me, and when the song ended, I bowed to all the whistles and applause.

I returned to the head table, breathless and feet throbbing from rocking out for the last hour, in search of a drink, just in time for the part I enjoy the least about every wedding. The part where everyone pairs off to dance with their date or significant other, and I’m left watching alone from the cocktail table. My phone vibrated in my purse as the DJ invited the couples to the floor.

It was a text from my friend with benefits, Phil.

Phil

What are you up to tonight babe?

At a wedding. If you’re out & about, mind giving me a ride home?

Phil

Not at all. Location?

Canyon Suites

Phil

Be there in 15

Phil Madden had been manning the grill at one of Emily’s many house parties. I smiled at him while I grabbed my burger, and he insisted he saved the best one for me. After we teamed up in a furious game of cornhole, we were inseparable the rest of the night. We made a pact that night to be friends with benefits, and it’s been like that ever since. Phil was a former rugby player, currently a project manager for a construction company, and he made a killer grilled cheese sandwich. Could a girl ask for anything more?

He also had bright blue eyes, a brilliant smile, and a beard that didn’t scrape up my chin too much when we kissed. Phil was always up for wherever the night went, whether that be a long conversation over beers or a movie cuddle sesh.

The other great thing about Phil was that he always said, no matter where I was or when it was, if I was drinking and needed a ride, he was my guy. I slammed the rest of my Tito’s and tonic, readying for my goodbyes, turned, and slammed into something else.

Mr. Cameron Nash.