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“You finished?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
Nodding, I pointed in the direction of Fiona’s room and said, “There’s tampons and tissues in there if you’re not sure.”
As soon as I finished, Brad shot to his feet and shoved me.
“Fuck off, Gabe,” he snarled. “I’m only trying to be a friend to you and tell you that I’m sorry for what I did.”
By now, what had started as little more than a chuckle on my part transformed into a full-blown belly laugh.
“You’re really a dick,” he said, as he started to walk past me. “You know that?”
Soon enough, my howl receded, and as it did I turned and followed him with my eyes as he walked away.
“Come on man, you know I’m only kidding,” I said, as I stood. “I’m just having some fun with you.”
Brad froze in place and turned back to face me once again. My friends and I spent a good deal of our time together joking and making fun of one another. But as I looked at Brad, I noticed the lighthearted manner with which I’d delivered my joke hadn’t gone over well.
“What?” I said, as I shrugged.
“I need you to accept my apology, Gabe,” he said, with an earnest expression. “Either that, or throw me out of here.”
Frowning, I leaned away from him for a moment.
“You’re being serious aren’t you?”
Without a word, Brad arched an eyebrow at me.
As I raised my hands, he stood there frowning at me.
“Okay, okay. I guess I didn’t realize how important this was to you. I accept your apology, man.”
Brad began to nod his head as he replied, “Thanks. That’s all I wanted to hear.”
I smiled and approached my friend, slapping my hand across his upper back as I drew close to him.
“Good,” I said, as I began to walk with him. “Now you and I both have a lot of work to do if I’m to marry Fiona. There’s no time to waste, so let’s get to it.”
“You got it,” he said.
“After all,” I replied, with a quick wink. “I couldn’t do any of this without my best man.”
FIONA
After a delightful afternoon trying on dresses, my friends and I got ready for dinner that evening in my bedroom. Although I tried to keep the conversation contained to the engagement, it wasn’t long before the girls moved far beyond it into discussions of marriage and children.
Still in shock from the proposal, I did my best to keep their expectations manageable. But, considering everything that had happened, I had to admit I enjoyed playing along as they predicted my future.
I mean, what woman wouldn’t?
After all, one of the richest men in the country had just asked me to become his wife. Not only that, but considering all of the things he and I’d been through, it made the proposal far more meaningful than I had time to explain to any of them. From their perspective, we were just girls being girls and enjoying one of the most special times life has to offer.
But then, in the midst of our celebration, there was a sudden knock at the door of my bedroom. Barely audible among the incessant cacophony of our talking and laughter, the sound of a fist against wood was unmistakable. I raised my arms and hushed them.
Pointing in the direction of the door, I said, “Who is it?”
“It’s Carlos,” a familiar voice replied.
Each suite on the resort had its own personal butler, and Carlos was ours. Shushing my friends, I stood and walked towards the door, pulling it open as soon as I reached it. But no sooner had I done so than Carlos brandished a large garment bag before me.
Confused, I leaned away from him and pointed at it.
“What is that?”
Carlos nodded and extended it towards me, supporting the entire weight of the bag on his index finger.
“It’s for you, Miss Fiona.”
I glanced towards my friends for a moment before returning my gaze to his.
“Me?”
As I responded, Carlos straightened his arm and extended the bag further towards me. “Yes ma’am. Now if you’ll please…”
As soon as he finished speaking, my friends closed on us like flies on a rump roast. After taking the bag from Carlos’ hand, they shooed him out the door and pushed me on to the bed.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, as they closed the door on Carlos. “We need to tip him!”
Ignoring me, my friends circled around the bag and concealed the front of it from my viewpoint. I watched as they unzipped it. After a high-pitched whine of the zipper, they all stood in slack-jawed admiration of its contents.
“You guys,” I groaned, as I slapped my hands on the top of the mattress. “What is going on?”
No sooner had I finished my question than the four of them huddled together around the garment bag and turned it towards me. As they did, I gasped and raised my hands to my mouth.
