Orlando
The photographer had called her Amaya. It was the perfect name for the beauty with long, almost raven-colored hair. When I had spotted her loose curls across the room, I had to stop myself from skipping over to her. Skipping. I’m over thirty. My days of skipping were long over.
But the days of dancing were still going strong. I had loathed the dance lessons that came with the equally unliked charm school lessons when I was twelve. But both now came in handy for business functions. And pleasurable ones as well, it seemed.
When she took my outstretched hand, a slow jazz number began. Perfect timing. It was almost as if the DJ had been tipped to play it. I would never tell. Two other couples came to the floor, both older, and they danced close together. I would love to still be in love when I’m that old.
Unable to help myself, I pulled Amaya close, but tried not to make it too intimate as I began a basic box step. She followed my lead effortlessly. I should tell her I’ve seen her here before in a few different bridesmaid’s dresses, but that could wait. She must be quite popular with her friends. The silence between us was perfection, there was no need to talk, the conversation in our steps spoke volumes.
She held her body close to mine, a sign that she was comfortable and didn’t think I was too adverse. I cracked a simple joke that made her laugh and her eyes twinkled with flecks of gold. When the music reached a crescendo, I twirled her around and Amaya neither fumbled or mis-stepped. There was a certain grace about her.
The music ended and the DJ announced it was time to cut the cake. Both bride and groom were ushered forward, and Amaya broke free from my arms without a glance back as she hurried to the cake table. What was going on with her? Sure she was a bridesmaid, but did she have to run the show as well?
I fell back from sight and settled against a wall as people gathered around and began to cheer. Amaya grabbed two small towels and waited with them. The groom pushed a small amount of icing on the bride’s nose while she flung an entire piece onto him. Once the laughter died down, the towels were handed to the couple and Amaya helped them both clean up.
When I came to her aid while the sweaty groomsman had been hitting on her, I hadn’t thought beyond getting the creep away from her. But now my thoughts were definitely going beyond the moment, the evening, and further still. How had two minutes of conversation and a dance turned me into a fourteen-year-old with a massive crush all over again?
She returned to my side, a wary smile on her lips. “Sorry, I’m a working bridesmaid.”
“A what?” What was a working bridesmaid? I tilted my head.
A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “I mean, I’m helping them with some coordinating and things. I’m supposed to make sure Suzette stays clean from icing, I’m helping her get changed for the honeymoon later. Things like that.”
She spoke with her hands and was quite animated. It gave her an air of innocence, like a child who was too excited to speak. But as I looked her over, her body was definitely all woman.
Her explanation made sense. She was assigned tasks to help out. “Oh, I gotcha.”
I must have looked perplexed because she laughed. “I’m a wedding coordinator and hired bridesmaid. So this is literally my job.”
A professional bridesmaid? I had never heard of such a thing. “How long have you been doing this?”
In a surprise move, she pulled a bright pink card from her cleavage and thrust it at me. “Five years. Amaya Journet, Always a Bridesmaid.” She stuck her hand out and I shook it. She had a strong grip.
“I’m Orlando. Amaya is a lovely name.” Unable to help myself, I picked up a loose curl from her shoulder and ran my fingers along the silky strands.
She shrugged. “Thanks. My mom gave it to me. I was named after both my parents – Emil and Anya. They kind of smushed their names together.”
Another slower song began and the bridal couple took to the floor. Amaya looked over to them and bit her lip. I wanted to bite it myself. “Another dance?”
She hesitated for the briefest moment before grabbing my hand. “I’ll give you half a song, then you have to help me set up for the bouquet toss.”
It was kind of sexy that she was suddenly bossing me around like that. I could feel the blood thrumming in my veins.
When the dance ended, the bride raised an eyebrow to Amaya and she excused herself to perform her professional duties. I told the DJ it was time for the toss as Amaya grabbed a small bouquet from behind a table. Ladies gathered around, ready to pounce.
After that, it was time for the couple to depart. My eyes stayed on Amaya as she picked up the bride’s train and trailed behind her. They disappeared behind one of the many doors along the hall.
The sweaty groomsman approached, drink in hand, and raised a finger. “Hey, uh, sorry about that before. I didn’t realize she was attached. Cute thing like her, I’m not surprised.” The man had a receding hairline, bushy mustache, and the obvious lines from where a wedding band had been up until recently.
Wedding guest or no, I rolled my eyes. “What do you do?”
“I’m in sales,” he said. “You?”
Of course he was. “I own five businesses, have houses in Savannah and Atlanta, and made ten grand while we’ve been standing here.”
Without another word he walked away, his face pale and drawn.
A few minutes later, the bride reappeared now dressed in a simple, white, knee-length dress. She joined the groom so they could get ready to leave for their honeymoon. Looking past her, I watched Amaya exit the room with a giant dress bag that she hung up before running – in heels no less – to the front where she began passing out containers of rose petals to the guests.
She was engrossed in her task, and I thought I should go back to my office, but I couldn’t tear myself away from watching her. She was absolutely mesmerizing. I had noticed her a few weeks back when she had been a bridesmaid in a different wedding, but actually talking to her…it was like she possessed a certain kind of magic.
Of course, it was also the first time I had been single in several years. For three years I had thought I was in a committed relationship with Tori. It was too bad Tori didn’t feel that way in return. She had decided to move to Portland after I said I wanted to come back home to Savannah. I ended up returning alone.
“Watching how the business works, son?” My mother came up behind me and laid a hand on my arm.
I looked in her direction and nodded. “Yes, I guess so. I was actually dancing with one of the bridesmaids. She mistook me for a guest.”
“Ah, Amaya, right?” She winked as I felt heat creep up my neck. “She’s a wonderful girl. Quite the entrepreneur. And she’s here at least once a month, usually more.”
My mother was the type who loved love, and she wanted me to find it before she became old. She was petite with silvery-blonde hair that only made her look more regal than anything else. She dressed impeccably, had gumption galore, and was Savannah royalty.
“Did you need something, Mom?”
She shook her head. “No. I like to watch happy couples ride off into the sunset. The wedding might be over, but their lives are just starting.”
While her own marriage to my father hadn’t worked out, my mother was a perpetual romantic. She always believed in the power of love and romance. I was something more of a skeptic.
Amaya came towards us with lightning speed. “Bride forgot her bag. I’m meeting them in the back.” She sped past, again never wavering on the three-inch heels.
“She works hard.” I watched her backside sway side to side as she disappeared again. It was a decidedly nice backside.
Another wink came from my mother. “So do you, Orlando. And you’re both in the wedding business.”
“Mother.” I shot her a look that I hoped said to not meddle, but I laughed instead. Cordelia Daniels was a romantic through and through. And besides, I was not necessarily in the wedding business. I was taking over, yes, but I had it in my mind to sell the place.
“I did not say a thing. Just that you have similarities.” She patted my arm, laughed a little, and took off down the hall with a wave.
Servers began piling up used plates and clearing things as the party began to wrap up. A few guests returned to the dance floor. The party had booked the ballroom for another hour. Figuring my chance to see Amaya again was over, I turned and nearly smacked right into her.
“You waited? Did I see Cordelia out here?” She looked around.
“She came out to check on things.” I waved my arm around in a sweeping motion.
“She’s so sweet. And so wise. You’re lucky to have a mother like her.” She looked at the dainty watch on her wrist. It was a real watch, not a smart one. “Sorry, I’m on the clock for thirty more minutes. I have to get a few things done. Thank you for dancing with me. I’m sure I’ll see you again some time.”
“Of course. See you around.” What else could I say? I barely knew the girl, even if I had a mind to get to know her better.
She once again sped off, not giving me time to even think about getting her number. Thankfully I was fairly certain it would be in my mother’s office. Amaya was like a hummingbird always flitting around. Did she ever stop to rest? I would have to find out.