“Every day is your day,” Will says under his breath before breaking into a grin.
I guess this wedding is a little different from the usual. Not only are Will and Ted business partners and friends but Ted is Jackie’s father. Will and I have been friends for a long time, even when I was living in London and doing theatre and he was at the LA office with his ex-wife. We both helped ourselves through some messy breakups and now he’s finally met the real love of his life. Of course there were complications, since she was his employee and the daughter of his best friend. But true love prevails and all that fucking bullshit.
Stop the cynicism, I have to remind myself. Some people are built for love and long-lasting relationships. Some people aren’t. I know which category I fall into, it’s time to start owning it.
With that slightly bitter thought lingering in my head, the three of us cheers and finish our drinks outside on the patio, the waves of English Bay lapping against the rocks beneath the house. When we’re sufficiently buzzed–at least Ted and I–I get on my tuxedo and the three of us leave. The wedding venue is at the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club down the street, about a fifteen-minute walk from my place.
We must make a peculiar trio, all dressed to the nines under the late July sunshine, enduring some honks from passing cars and I swear a few snaps from the paparazzi, though I’m probably just paranoid. After last night it’s hard not to be. We stroll around the corner to the yacht club and head down the driveway to the ornate building.
A small crowd of wedding guests have gathered outside beside the large, white columns that surround the front steps. Jackie, thankfully, is nowhere in sight. Will is old-fashioned enough to believe in that “not seeing the bride before the wedding” superstition.
And then I see a sight for sore eyes.
It’s hard not to.
For one, she’s in a hot pink dress that’s nearly blinding in the sunlight, beaming against the white building like radioactive bougainvillea.
For two, she’s got the nicest set of tits I’ve ever seen.
For three, her face is fresh, glowing and sweet, and yet her eyes are full of snark and sass.
She’s got that “bitch-hot” vibe down pat.
Poor girl doesn’t know I’m a sucker for that.
“Who is she?” I ask Will, nodding at her as we make our way towards the group.
“Which one, the tiny Asian one, the blonde, or Jackie’s grandmother?”
“The blonde,” I tell him.
“She’s off-limits,” Will says, giving me a stern look. “I mean it.”
I jerk my chin back. “Says who?”
“Says me and it’s my wedding.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Is she your long-lost sister?”
“Are you talking about Alyssa?” Ted speaks up.
Alyssa. She has a name.
“If she’s the blonde,” I tell him.
“She works for us,” Will says quickly.
“And she’s a handful,” Ted says. “And not in the way you think I mean. Because believe me, those seem more than a handful. Maybe two handfuls. Depends on the size of your hands. I wouldn’t know of course.”
I give Will a curious look.
He rolls his eyes. “Neither would I. But she’s my employee and Jackie’s best friend and the maid of honor and I really want to get this marriage off on the right foot. You…doing your thing that you do now, it would make it that much harder. Plus, I’d have to murder you and honestly I just want to get on our honeymoon.”
I scoff, shoving my hands in my pockets. “I’m just asking who she is. She’s pretty.” Pretty fucking hot.
Will laughs. “She might be pretty but she can do without the likes of you.”
“What? Just yesterday you were telling me I needed to go out and meet women outside of the dating app world and here I am, enquiring about that hot pink blondie at your wedding of all places, in the real world, and you’re telling me to back off. She have a boyfriend or something?”
Ted laughs. “I think she scares the pants off most men.”
“Why?” I like a challenge and the closer we get to her, the more I realize how enticing she is. There’s something almost delicately cute about her face that lends an air of vulnerability. Combine that with the take-no-shit look in her eyes as she talks to the other bridesmaid, and I feel heat coursing through me, a nice change from the anger of last night.
“Because the guy I gave dating advice to was Emmett from last year,” Will points out, lowering his voice. “Emmett before he became Doctor Doom or Death or whatever you are. The Emmett who wasn’t sleeping with every starlet or model within a ten-mile radius and becoming gossip mag fodder.”
I wave at him dismissively. “You can’t believe everything the media tells you.”
Will lets out a caustic laugh. “I’m believing what you tell me. Don’t think I haven’t been listening.”
He’s got a point. While Will’s been stuck in pre-matrimonial bliss, I guess I have been giving him a weekly rundown of who I’ve been screwing. I have to blame the fact that we’re usually at a bar and I’ve had one too many when it happens.
“What Will is trying to say,” Ted says, slapping me on the shoulder, “is that this is his wedding. And I’m the father of the bride. And the two of us have vested interest in Alyssa. Without her, the office just doesn’t run. So, for our sake, back off and behave yourself tonight.”
“Fine, fine, I promise to behave,” I mutter as we approach the group.
Everyone lights up when they see Will, but I’m watching Alyssa. Her features become warmer when she sees him. It might bother me a little but the man has the effect on everyone. Fucking bastard.
Of course I have my own effect. I don’t have a name for it yet. It’s a mix of nostalgia and awe whenever people see me and right now every single person in the group is staring at me with either that “I know that guy from somewhere” look or “It’s Cruiser McGill!” Despite Boomerang’s success, people still resort to my character from that damn TV show. As long as my nickname doesn’t come up, I should be okay.
But Alyssa isn’t looking at me with either of those expressions. She’s looking at me like she’s completely unimpressed. It’s not that she doesn’t recognize me and I know I look fucking good in a tux. It’s that she can see right through me–and she doesn’t like what she sees.
I feel my smile falter, just for a moment, and tear my eyes away from her. It’s probably for the best. Any longer and I would have been caught in a war between staring at her tits and her face, both absolutely mesmerizing and vying for my attention.
“Everyone,” Will says, addressing the group. “You all know Ted here as my best man. I’d like to introduce you to my groomsman, Emmett Hill. You may remember him from such TV shows as Degrassi: The Next Generation and Boomerang.”
“It’s Degrassi the New Generation,” the other bridesmaid corrects him before wiggling her fingers in excitement. “I can’t believe I get to walk down the aisle with Cruiser McGill.”
Damn. I was hoping for the blonde.
And then everyone starts talking about the show and my character and what a good ol’ boy I was, how the old Degrassi was better than the new Degrassi, and of course everyone’s favorite topic, Drake.
Fucking Drake. After being on the show for ten years, everyone always wants to know if I know Drake personally. And the answer–no, I don’t, I left before he joined the cast–always disappoints them.
The only one who isn’t interested is Alyssa–in fact she seems like she’s trying to look everywhere but at me–and looks just as relieved as I feel when a woman in a blue cocktail dress shows up from around the corner, clapping her hands together.
“All right, we need you all to get in your places!” she cries out.
“That’s the wedding planner,” Ted says beside me. “She’s also a handful. Best to just let her do her job. She seems nice until you ask if you can have a karaoke machine.”
I stare at the woman, her mouth too wide, her teeth too white. There’s far too many people like her in my life at the moment. I feel like wedding planners and publicists are the same thing right now, one tries to plan your wedding, the other tries to plan your life.