Piper
I hung up the phone with the professional bridesmaid and shook my head. It was unreal what some people managed to do for a living. But Ashley was right, this was a unique story. And I looked forward to Alonso treating me to a meal after we talked to this girl.
“Load up, Alonso. We’re heading over towards Tybee.” I grabbed my pad and paper as well as my recorder and stuffed them into my giant bag. Sure it could double as an overnight duffel, but it fit all my stuff in it.
The bottle of water stopped at his lips. “What’s on Tybee?”
“That bridesmaid for hire is that way. Not on the island, but over that direction. Maybe you can take me for some shrimp and grits when we’re done.” I did a little shoulder dance in my excitement. I loved shrimp and grits.
I stopped when I noticed the look on Alonso’s face as he watched me. His eyebrows were raised and he folded his arms. “You’re a little over-excited about some tiny dead invertebrates.”
I gave him a deadpan glare and blinked several times. “They’re delicious dead invertebrates.”
The laughter that erupted from him was so loud, several people stopped and turned to us. Alonso doubled over as his eyes began to water and I started to giggle as I watched him. Within a few seconds, I was full-on belly laughing as well, having to grip the desk to hold myself up.
Once we had calmed and the rest of the office had dismissed our juvenile laughter, I walked with Alonso to grab the equipment. We still wore huge smiles on our faces.
“You really do have a great sense of humor, Piper. That’s the reaction I wanted from you back in school. That’s what I always loved about you - your laugh. Definitely your best feature.” He bent down and hefted the camera bag onto his shoulder before grabbing a fresh battery pack from the charging station.
Alonso chuckled again and walked off, leaving me standing in his wake.
I was stuck right where I stood. That’s what he’s always loved about me? He’s always what?
Maybe it was just an expression, but anyone who has studied communications knows that only ten percent of it is what is said. The other ninety percent is non-verbal - how it’s said, the facial expression, the setting. And Alonso saying that’s what he’s always loved about me, the heaviness of his voice, the look in his eyes, said way more than he could have had intended.
And me? I was stunned. Over the past few months, my hatred for all things Alonso Ortiz had certainly shifted to comfort and liking. He was a great co-worker. He was a fabulous brother to Maggie. And yes, he was becoming a pretty good friend. But more than that?
I was brought back to the night before when he said he would date someone from work if it was the right person. I had taken it as innocuous flirtation. But maybe it was more. Maybe the longing to feel his lips on mine - a longing I had shoved down - wasn’t as flippant as I had been thinking. He had stared into my eyes when he said it. Had he meant me?
Inter-office dating was frowned upon, I reminded myself. He was my partner and producer. If things didn’t work out, then what? It’s not like our jobs were a dime a dozen. We would still have to work together. Best to continue squelching the desire to feel his lips and his hands on me. Best to keep things strictly above board.
My head was decided, but my heart burned as if I had thrown it into a volcano. I had gotten over Henry, I could get over this heady crush on a co-worker. Finding my feet working again, I turned slowly.
Alonso had backtracked for me. “If you want shrimp and grits, Campbell, we have to actually leave the building.”
In the car, we sat silently. Not that we jabbered every day on the way out to stories, but we talked often enough. Everything felt awkward, though perhaps that was just my perception. Alonso beat his hands on the steering wheel to the Lady Gaga song on the radio, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil going on in my own head.
At a red light, he turned to me. “So how long has this lady been in the business?”
“Huh?”
“This professional bridesmaid. How long has she been doing it?”
Oh. That. “I think she said about five years. She kind of fell into it and has been going strong since. She has a website, she’s in a professional bridesmaid’s network. And she sent me contact info for a few of her clients. She said she averages two weddings a month.”
“And these people pay her?”
My comfort level was returning to normal. I could talk about work, especially fascinating stories, all day long. “Yes. She also runs an online boutique, but she said being a bridesmaid is her primary income.”
Alonso laughed. “Man, how did I miss all these cushy jobs?”
“You’d make a fine professional bridesmaid. I can see you in a long, pink, ruffled dress. Mermaid cut.” I couldn’t help the jab. He made it so easy.
He fluffed his curls. “Pink? Honey, no, I do better in jewel tones.” His voice was high-pitched and he batted his eyelashes as he spoke.
I burst into laughter and he followed suit. I was glad we were at a long red light. Not many men were secure enough to make that kind of joke at their own expense. Henry certainly wouldn’t have allowed it. I had laughed more with Alonso in the past few months than I had in three years with Henry Peddler.
But, like Scarlett O’Hara, I couldn’t think about that now. Or ever. Alonso was just a friend. A co-worker. Forget that his smile made me want to melt on the spot. We had work to do.
The professional bridesmaid, Amaya Journet, was the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen. She was petite and had olive skin and long, glossy, black hair. I immediately felt frumpy and gangly next to her. It didn’t help that Alonso practically had to pick his jaw up off the floor.
Jealousy had never been a huge problem for me, but it was rearing its ugly head as Amaya showed us into her office and studio space. Her face could light up the Tybee Island Lighthouse on its own. And there was Alonso, camera in hand, following her like a puppy.
“I pulled out some of the bridesmaid dresses I’ve worn. Believe it or not, I’ve worn a few dresses twice.” Amaya showed us over twenty dresses on a clothing rack in hues of blue, pink, green, and even one in neon yellow. “The cost of the dress is built into my price package, so while it looks like I’m paying for the dress myself, the bride has already paid me for it.”
“Fascinating. I’ll set up the camera to use the dresses as a backdrop.” Alonso set to work setting up while I turned in a circle to see the rest of the room.
“You also make jewelry?” For some reason, this was the only question in my head.
“I do. Custom silver pieces with semi-precious stones. I can show you once we’re done with this interview.” Amaya’s face was animated and her smile genuine.
The green-eyed monster who had apparently come with me for this piece was tucked away in my giant bag as I pulled out my notepad and recorder. “Great. Let’s get started.”
She was one of those people you wanted to hate but couldn’t. Amaya the bridesmaid was just too nice. There was no other way to say it. She was flawless on camera, and I was thankful to be off camera while I interviewed her. I was much taller than her and my tailored dress looked like a gunny sack. After answering several questions, we set up for my opening shot.
I fluffed my hair and reapplied my lipstick while Amaya brought us both bottles of water. She and Alonso chatted and I tried not to let jealousy back out in the open. Why did I feel this way? Alonso and I were not a couple. I barely liked him. Okay, I really liked him, but still, I had no ownership of him. And I didn’t want it. Did I?
We decided I would walk into the frame in front of the dresses, holding a bouquet of fake flowers. When Alonso gave me the signal, I walked in front of the camera. “We’ve all heard the phrase ‘always a bridesmaid,’ but Amaya Journet takes that to a whole new level as a professional bridesmaid here in Savannah. Serving dozens of brides every year, Amaya has made a career of being best buds with brides all over the city.”
We recorded it again just in case, and Alonso took some B-roll footage because you can never have enough footage.
“This is so much fun. You must love being a reporter.” Amaya sat back, her eyes wide with fascination.
“Stories like this are fun. I love bringing good news to people.” I took a sip of the water she had brought out.
“That’s why I do this. Weddings are happy and I want to be around happy people. There’s enough strife in this world.” Amaya was beautiful, friendly, and wise, it seemed.
“That’s a beautiful sentiment.” I checked the clock on my phone. We had time for those shrimp and grits if Alonso would just hurry.
“Are you two together?”
The question caught me off guard. “Um. No. Just co-workers. We’ve known each other a long time, though.”
She leaned in close and kept her volume low. “He keeps looking at you.” Her voice was even and matter of fact.
“I’m the one on camera. He gets paid to look at me.” I shrugged, ignoring the implication of her comment. He had said the same thing about getting paid to look at me on our first day together. Not that I remembered.
She leaned in closer to me. “You know what I’m saying. I can see it in your eyes, too. You both keep stealing glances when the other isn’t looking. If you ever need my services in the future, I’ll give you a discount.”
Alonso turned to us. “Ready, Piper?”
I jumped up from where I was sitting. “Absolutely.” I turned to Amaya. “It was a pleasure. Thank you so much for meeting us on such short notice.”
After our goodbyes, we loaded back up in the car and I thought over what she had said. We both stole glances at one another. So while I was checking him out, he was checking me out. But the decision to keep things platonic has been made. Nothing can happen aside from friendship.
We stopped to eat, but I was too busy mulling over everything to enjoy my shrimp and grits. Things were moving too fast and I had no idea where they were going. And I had to figure out if I wanted things moving at all. On one hand, this was Alonso, the guy I had hated for years. On the other hand was Alonso the thoughtful co-worker who had a mile-wide smile and dimples for days.
After we finished, Alonso looked at me and frowned. “Was your shrimp and grits not up to par? You didn’t look like you enjoyed them.”
I shook my head. “Oh, no, they were excellent, actually. I just have stuff on my mind.”
“Anything I can help with?” He opened the car door for me and allowed me to slide in. After running around the car, he got into the driver’s seat and looked at me expectantly.
I tried to smile. “Oh, no. I’m sorry. I’m fine. Thank you for buying.”
With a nod, he started the car. “Any time, Piper.”