Page 173 of Bridesmaid for Hire
Needing some clarification, I pick up my phone to see if I have any messages, but when my screen is blank, I wrack my brain to remember what happened last night.
Think, Brody.
It started with the taste testing. I remember that for damn sure. Reginald pushing to get me to drink more and more…and more.
And that’s where it gets fuzzy.
I don’t recall much after the third shot.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I stand from the bed.Whoa, take it slow, man.
Hands on my hips, I take a few calming breaths and glance around the room for any clues, anything that…
My eyes land on a note on top of the dresser.
Thank fuck.Oh, maybe Haisley asked Maggie to stay with her last night. That would make sense.And she’d need all her makeup and nighttime regime with her.
I calmly walk over to the dresser, not wanting to expel anything from my stomach, and grab one of the complimentary water bottles as well.
When I turn to go back to the bed to sit down and read, that’s when I catch another envelope—but this one is next to the door, as if someone slid it underneath.
Really confused, I grab that one as well and then take a seat on the bed.
I decide to read the one from under the door first. I pop open the envelope and slide out the cardstock note.
McFadden,
Your behavior last night, accompanied by your devious idea to infiltrate my daughter’s wedding for your own personal gain, has greatly disappointed me. Please consider this your formal notice of your dismissal. Human Resources will be expecting you Tuesday at eight in the morning. Don’t be late. Bring all company property with you. And if you don’t recall, your invitation to the wedding has been revoked. Please see the bill for your portion of your stay here.
Hopper
“What?” I whisper as my hand clamps over my forehead. My behavior? What the fuck did I do last night that would cause me to lose my fucking job?
And then it hits me.
Fired.
He fired me.
Holy fuck…he fired me.
Alarmed, I pull out another piece of paper from the envelope. This one’s folded up, and when I smooth it out, an invoice comes into view. My eyes travel down the large numbers until they reach all the way at the bottom, where it’s split in half.
When my eyes land on the total, they nearly fall out.
“Seven thousand nine hundred and eighty-eight dollars?” I shout. “What the fuck!”
I scan the bill again, my heart thumping a mile a minute as I feel my world crash down around me.
I somehow made a fool of myself last night.
Maggie’s not here, and there are no messages on my phone.
I lost my goddamn job.
And now I have a bill of over seven thousand dollars in my hand for a trip that I was told was going to be covered by my now former boss.
“What happened?” I mutter as the bill slides from my fingers and onto the ground.
