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I tap my pencil on the table as I wrack my brain. Friends. No. Asking five male friends to be groomsmen for a man they don’t know is crossing the boundaries of friendship. Even free booze wouldn’t lure them unless they were college boys.
My pulse quickens as an idea begins to form in my mind. Hire. Actors. This is LA, after all. I bang the table. “Bingo.”
Grinning, I reach for my phone and scroll through the contacts list until I reach my friend Amelia’s number. I hit call and wait for her to answer.
“Marian, it’s going to rain today,” she exclaims.
I laugh with delight. “It’s been too long.” We catch up for three minutes, and then I explain to her what I need. Amelia is an agent, and if there’s anyone who can help me find decent-looking actors to be groomsmen, it’s her.
“Easy peasy,” she says. “And you’re in luck. I have a few who came in this morning to audition. You can swing by in the next hour and have your pick.”
I clap my hands together. “Perfect. I’ll be there.”
I can’t stop grinning as I get on with my to-do list. There’s nothing like solving a problem in one swoop.
Just as I’m about to leave the office, my cell phone rings. My heart skips a beat when I see Mrs. Carter’s name. Is she calling to cancel? I can’t see any other reason for her to call when we’re meeting in an hour or so.
“Hello,” I say, trepidation in my voice.
“Marian, this is Mrs. Carter,” she says in her confident, bossy voice. “I’ve finished my errands early, and now I’m standing outside what I believe are your offices.”
“What? You’re here,” I jump from my chair and go to the window. I peer out, but of course, I can’t see under the awning. “Do you want to come up?”
It’s sweet of her to come all the way to my office.
“No. I’ll wait for you down here. We can have an early lunch.” She disconnects the phone, and I stare at my cell phone in disbelief. I swallow down feelings of hurt.
I guess it’s too much to expect that my mother-in-law would want to see where I work. Maybe even meet my colleagues? I grab my handbag, and as I go down the stairs, my phone vibrates with a text. I reach for it and quickly scan the message from Amelia.
You are going to love your new groomsmen.
I stop mid-stair. What an idiot, I completely forgot about my appointment with Amelia. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. What am I going to do? What will I do with Mrs. Carter?
There’s only one thing to do, I decide as I continue descending the stairs.
“Hello,” I say to her with a bright smile. “Welcome to my neck of the woods.”
She manages a tight smile. My enthusiasm goes down a notch. This woman doesn’t like me, and she’s determined not to like me.
“Hello yourself,” she says and keeps her hands wrapped around her oversize handbag. “Where shall we go for lunch? I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with these parts of the city.”
The implication is that my offices are located in a not so nice part of the city, which is complete bull. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I have an appointment before we go for lunch. I thought we could go together. You might enjoy it.” Fat chance.
She frowns. “I hope it won’t take long. I have a lot to do before I go back to Santa Monica.”
“It won’t,” I tell her as we walk to the parking lot. Amelia is the busiest person I know, which means we’ll be in and out of there in a flash.
I hadn’t told Declan that I’m meeting his mom for lunch. I want to surprise him later. I know he’ll appreciate the gesture, and maybe just maybe, Mrs. Carter and I can forge a relationship. A glance at her pursed lips, and I wonder if my goals are too lofty.
On the five-minute drive to Amelia’s office, Mrs. Carter does not say a word until we get out of the car.
“We could have walked,” she says.
“Yes, but the restaurant I’ve booked us for lunch is on the outskirts of town,” I explain.
She nods, and we make our way into the building. Amelia’s office is on the third floor on top of the theatre. We take an elevator, which opens up into a huge space with wooden flooring that is the audition room.
Several young men are sprawled on various chairs and couches arranged along the walls. Amelia sees me from where she’s standing near the window talking to someone, and she comes over. We fall into each other’s arms, and then she holds me at arms’ length to examine me.
“Married life suits you,” she declares. “When do I get to meet this mystery man?” she demands.
