Page 12 of Bridesmaid By Chance
That’s what my dad makes everyone call him, and for some reason, no matter how many times I tell her not to call me that, she still does.
Maggie clears her throat and stands from her chair. “Uh, I have emails. Yeah, emails I need to look at.” Not subtle at all.
“Same,” Everly says, standing as well.
“Wait,” I say. “Everly, I need to talk to you about the Bridesmaid for Hire program. Possibly help us out here.”
Everly winces. “Yeah, things are really tight right now, but, uh…” She glances over at Maggie. “I think maybe if we move some things around, we can possibly manage it without sacrificing the quality of the other projects we currently have scheduled.”
And I know that nervous look, I’ve made that nervous look before. She’s staring down the barrel of a large workload, but she’s trying to keep her boss happy at the same time.
I don’t want to put her in that position.
So, I say, “I don’t want you having to move your schedule around; that’s not fair to you.”
Nervously, Sloane raises her hand. “Not to be the bearer of bad news here, but I have no idea what any of this entails.”
Silence falls upon us as Everly and Maggie both exchange looks.
After a few seconds, Everly steps in. “I mean, I think maybe I could work some time in my schedule.” Hell, I know she’s just saying that to appease the investor in her boss’s business. And I don’t want to put that on her.
No, I’m just going to put all the pressure on my assistant instead.
Jesus, man.
“No, please focus on your work. I’ll, uh…I’ll train her myself.”
“You will?” Everly and Sloane say at the same time.
Yeah, you will?
You are not fluent in the program, you have zero idea what Regency ballroom dancing entails, and for all you know, weddings in London could be vastly different than ones in America.
But sure, offer to train her.
“I have to go to London anyway, and I got her into this mess. It would be the right thing to do.”
“You’re going to teach me how to dance?” Sloane asks.
I rub my forehead in frustration. “We will learn together.”
Do I know how to ballroom dance, let alone the dances from the Regency era? The answer would be no, but Sloane shouldn’t have to bear this on her own. Plus, with money comes the ability to hire people.
“We can figure out the logistics. Right now, I think we should leave Everly and Maggie to get back to work, and we can talk about what’s to be expected moving forward.”
“Okay,” Sloane says in an unsure tone. I don’t blame her. I just put her in a shitty position, and it’s not like she’ll tell me no. Knowing her, she’s going to find a way to be the best bridesmaid in the wedding, despite not having a personal connection to the bride. Because that’s who she is. She’s a hard worker, reliable, and good at what she does, even if it’s sometimes as simple as getting me my green drink in the morning. Something I hated asking her to do at first, but I’d needed her out of the goddamn office, so I started sending her on errands.
But now, now it seems like I’ve gotten myself into a fucking pickle.
We offer our goodbyes to Maggie and Everly, I apologize once again, feeling like an idiot in front of the girls—not to mention we didn’t even meet like we were supposed to—and we head out to the street where the driver’s waiting for us. He opens the door, and I slide into the car first, Sloane following closely behind.
When our driver settles into his seat, I say, “Back to the office.”
He nods and takes off.
I pull out my phone and shoot a quick text to Hardy.
Hudson: I think I just fucked up big-time.
