Page 21 of How to Ruin Your Ex's Wedding
I message back.What’s the event?
Then turn my phone over and return my attention to Gregor. I hate it when people sit at restaurants, or anywhere really, on their phones and ignore the people they are with.
Gregor is busy talking to the server about the specials, asking in-depth questions that only people preoccupied with food, like Gregor, care about. In addition to playing football, he owns two pubs in downtown Seattle as well as an upscale restaurant. The pubs each serve dishes devised from his own family’s recipes, and the restaurant serves fancy shit. He considers himself to be a bit of a foodie at this point.
My phone buzzes again. I turn it over and peek.
Liza Littleton has gotten back to me.High-profile wedding and pre-wedding planning events. You are our top pick for a photographer. Your reputation precedes you.
Who are the clients?I ask. I already know my reputation precedes me. I’m a fucking fantastic photographer.
She responds immediately.I’m not at liberty to say without a contract.
I grab my phone and start typing.I’m not even going to take the appointment unless I know who the client is.
I turn my phone back over.
“What’s going on over there?” Gregor asks.
“Just an appointment request.” I wave my hand as though it’s not a big deal.
“I ordered for you since you were too busy ignoring me to be bothered.”
“I’m sure I’ll love it, thank you.”
“Aw, anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, blowing me a kiss.
“So, you keep asking me shit, what’s been going on with you over the last couple weeks?” I ask.
“Same old stuff,” he says. “Fending off beautiful women wanting to use me for my body.” Gregor talks a big game, but deep down, I know he just wants to get married and have kids. The problem is he doesn’t want to marry just anyone. Not that it’s a problem—that’s how everyone should be—but his parents have a fairy tale relationship. They’ve been together forty years and they still enjoy one another, laugh, date, kiss, can’t keep their hands off each other. It’s a hard example to live up to. He can barely find someone to do that with forty days, let alone years.
“I thought you were going to do that speed dating thing?”
“Yeah.” He winces. “It wasn’t good.”
“What wasn’t? The event? The girls? The restaurant?”
“All of the above. I’ve never seen so many girls who look exactly the same in my life. You know how every girl used to be blonde?”
I nod.
“Now, every girl is brunette. Same long hair style, with the curls at the bottom that they are always touching to make sure they’re still there. Same glossy lips, big cleavage, tight dresses, and crazy white teeth.” He shakes his head.
“I thought you liked big cleavage and tight dresses?”
“I do. But it was a little overwhelming. And I felt like no one wanted to get to know me, they just wanted to talk about themselves. As though they already knew me or something.”
“Poor famous football baby.” I fake pout.
“You know what I mean. I’m not just football, man. I’m a person. With interests.”
“I know, you’re karaoke and pubs too.” I grin.
“Fuck off.” He laughs.
My phone buzzes with a new message. I turn it over. It’s from my new friend, Liza Littleton.
Just say yes. You won’t regret it.
