13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
“I brought wine and nachos. Let’s take a bitch down,” Gianna announced, marching into Lehra’s apartment with her hands full of bags.
“Well, alrighty then,” I deadpanned. “Thanks for coming over on such short notice.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, plopping the bags on the coffee table. “What’s going on?”
“She had a major meltdown earlier, and I didn’t know what else to do,” I told her quietly. “I took her to the gym and let her punch some shit, and it helped, but I think she’s going to need support.”
“So you decided to call in a professional?” she asked with a smirk, and I nodded.
Lehra came out from her room, rubbing her hair with a maroon towel. While she’d been in the shower, I’d cleaned up the invitations she’d tossed earlier and stacked them neatly on the table.
“Gia, you didn’t have to come over,” she protested.
“Of course I did. I have a master’s degree in dealing with bitchy mothers-in-law. Chloe Bouvier is the most evil woman on the planet, and since she’s no longer in our lives, I could use the practice. Don’t want my skills to get rusty.”
Lehra smiled, and the two women settled onto the blue-and-white striped couch while I sat in the matching chair.
I spoke as Gianna pulled wine glasses and a corkscrew from one of the bags and proceeded to open the bottle of white. “Lehra’s future mother-in-law and Dwight have been gaslighting her to get their way with the wedding,” I said in explanation. “She can give you the details.”
Gianna paused, her mouth agape, and then waved the skewered cork at Lehra. “Let me get this straight. Your fiancé is allowing her to boss you around?”
“Yes, they team up and outnumber me.”
Gia’s head shook from side to side, making her raven ponytail bounce. “Oh hell to the naw. You don’t just have a mother-in-law problem, honey. You’ve also got a fiancé problem.” Damn right she does. She placed a comforting hand on Lehra’s knee. “The first time I ever went to Chloe’s house, she was a complete bitch. As soon as she disrespected me, Auburn told her off and dragged me from the house. We’ve never been back.”
Lehra’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s amazing. I can’t see Dwight ever doing that.”
“Then you need to set his ass straight. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck forever with his mother running your lives. There’s a whole section on Reddit about atrocious mothers-in-law. Some of those stories will blow your wig off. Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on?”
For the next thirty minutes, Lehra explained the situation while we ate and drank. Flopping against the back of the couch, she groaned. “Dwight’s mother is one of those people who says everything so nicely, you’re not sure if she’s insulting you or not.”
“Ohh, the fake sweet. Yeah, I can go toe-to-toe with her on that shit,” Gianna replied with a confident nod.
“Like she keeps referring to my family as ‘your people . ’ Your people can stay at the hotel, Lehra. Do your people eat seafood? But she smiles when she says it, so I’m not sure if she’s being offensive or not.”
“ Your people ?” Gia asks. “Yeah, that definitely feels offensive. What else do I need to know?”
“Um, let’s see. Her first name is Bambi, and she hates cursing.”
“Bambi,” Gianna repeated with a roll of her eyes. “Social climber, I assume?”
“For sure. Their family has money, but she acts like they’re the Rockefellers or something.”
“Or the Bouviers,” Gianna replied, a sneaky grin crossing her full lips, and I could see her brain formulating a plan. Then her voice turned high-pitched and daringly sweet. “Golly, I hope I don’t accidentally curse while we’re there. I wouldn’t want to offend Bambi .”
Lehra let out a laugh. “What are you up to, Gia?”
She waved a hand. “Let me take care of the mother-in-law. The only way to handle a haughty woman is to out-haughty her. I’ve learned a thing or two since I met Auburn. I have to put up with pretentious assholes all the time.”
“You’re awesome, Gianna. You too, Cruz. I feel so much better after bitch-punching the imaginary Bambi at the gym tonight.”
Gia ate her last chip and tilted her head to the side. “I’m just sorry I haven’t been around more to be there for you. I hate you’ve been going through this alone.”
“You had your own wedding stuff to deal with and then the honeymoon,” Lehra told her.
Gianna pulled out her phone and tapped her thumbs against the screen. “Well, I’m back now, and I’m your ride-or-die. Now, who all is coming this weekend?” She looked up from her phone, waiting for a response.
“You and me. Nicolette and Artie.”
“And me,” I piped up and two sets of eyes snapped to me. “What? I figured five against two couldn’t hurt.” I smiled softly at Lehra, and she returned it. “I told you I would support you, Tink.”
Her lips rolled between her teeth as we locked eyes again. “Thanks Cruz. And Dwight won’t be there Friday and most of Saturday. He’s involved in some kind of project for work in Chicago.”
“Five against one then,” I corrected. “I like those odds.”
When I pulled my gaze from Lehra, I found Gianna staring speculatively at me, her finger tapping against her top lip. “Cruuuuuz.”
Shit, did she notice the way I was staring at Lehra?
“Yes, Giannaaaa?”
Her lips formed a wicked smile. “How do you feel about ascots?”
“I love that movie,” Artie said as we exited the plane.
“ Bridesmaids is my favorite,” Lehra agreed before elbowing me playfully. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen that before, Cruz.”
“I didn’t know what I was missing. Melissa McCarthy was hysterical.”
Gianna slipped on a pair of big, dark sunglasses as she descended the last step and pointed us toward the waiting limo. I’d driven Auburn’s limousine many times, but the only other time I’d been a passenger in one was my senior prom.
We all climbed in, and the driver took off. Gia had insisted that we leave New York at the ass-crack of dawn on this Friday morning, and we pulled up to the Jones house four hours earlier than Bambi was expecting us.
When Dwight’s mother answered the door, she was in a battleship-gray bathrobe, had some kind of mud mask on her face, and was sporting huge curlers in her hair. The look of shock on her face was worth getting up before the sun this morning.
“Wha—Y-you’re here,” she stammered, looking around at all of us in confusion while fingering the curlers. Good. We’d thrown her off. “Your flight wasn’t supposed to land until noon.”
Gianna took over and strutted—literally strutted —past the woman and into her large house. The rest of us followed, stopping in the high-ceilinged foyer.
“Yes, well, with the unfortunate mix-up with the airline, we decided to just come in my private plane. I do hope that’s okay,” Gia finished sweetly, still wearing her movie-star sunglasses.
“It’s, um, you… private plane?” The woman patted at the crust on her face, and her neck flushed. “But I sent tickets.”
Lehra spoke up, her saccharine tone matching Gianna’s. “I’m sure you can get a refund, since it was the airline’s fault that Artie didn’t have a ticket, right?”
God, I was so fucking proud to see her standing up to this woman. All she needed was friends at her back to stand strong. And isn’t that what we all needed?
Our entire group looked like a billion bucks. Gianna had styled us, whatever the fuck that meant. Artie was wearing a classy black suit with velvet lapels, and the ladies looked like a force of nature in power suits. Nicolette was in black and white, Gianna in blood red, and Lehra was looking fine as hell in Barbie pink.
And me? Well, I was wearing a goddamn ascot with my ivory double-breasted jacket and pants in a material Gianna called summer linen . I felt a bit ridiculous, but Gia said she wanted me to look, and I quote, “like a fancy pants.” She hadn’t detailed her plan, simply told us to follow her lead.
“These are my bridesmaids, Artie Baker, Nicolette Bell, and Gianna Bouvier,” Lehra introduced. “I know you’ve been looking forward to meeting them.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Bambi gushed fakely, her ambitious eyes straying to Gia. “M-Mrs. Bouvier, I didn’t realize… when Lehra said she had a bridesmaid named Gianna, I didn’t know it was you. I saw photos of your wedding online. It was simply stunning.” She looked like she was about to get down and lick Gianna’s stilettos.
“It was,” Gianna said airily. “Some have called it the wedding of the decade.”
I knew she was acting, putting on a good front for the woman who had been bullying Lehra. Gia didn’t give a hoot about the trappings of wealth. A year ago she’d been fresh from graduate school and had next to nothing. Now, after marrying Auburn, she had more money than she knew what to do with. She may be playing the part of a snooty bitch, but in reality, she was the kindest woman in the world, one who would bend over backward to help her friends or anyone in need.
I hadn’t thought about it before, but I suddenly realized she was technically my sister-in-law, and that made me smile. Then she looped her arm through mine and tugged me closer.
“And this is Marvolo. He’s the wedding planner who helped me, and I couldn’t have done it without him.” She pressed a hand to her chest like she was getting emotional. “He was invaluable to me, and we’re so lucky to have him with us today.”
Marvolo? What the fuck kind of name is Marvolo?
“Oh, uh, how lovely,” Bambi said through gritted teeth. “I didn’t realize we were hiring a wedding planner. I’ve been doing fine on my own.”
“Hmm, I’m sure you have,” Gianna replied with an edge of condescension in her tone. “But Marvolo here has coordinated some of the finest weddings from all over the world, including for royalty.” She looked up at me and batted her eyelashes.
I’m going to murder you, I told her with my intense gaze. I knew nothing about coordinating weddings.
“Royalty? Is that so?” Bambi’s appraising eyes snapped to me, and I gave her my full-wattage smile.
“Ahhh, yes. Queens and princesses and such,” I intoned, putting on an accent of indeterminable origin. I sounded like a cross between Arnold Schwarzenegger and Antonio Banderas. I attempted to think of something else I could say, but the only thing that popped into my mind was a name from the movie we’d watched on the plane. “Zee last was Princess Melissa of zee McCarthy Islands.”
Lehra camouflaged her snort with a cough, Nicolette covered a smile with her fingertips, and Artie turned his back, suddenly becoming extremely interested in an ugly painting on the wall of the foyer. Gia simply gave my arm an encouraging squeeze.
But Bambi bobbed her head up and down. “Oh Princess Melissa. Yes!” Her voice was almost a squeal. “The princess is stunning and such a kind-hearted soul. She does all that work with the, um, the…”
“Zee Pygmies?” I suggested.
Christ, Estrada. What the hell?