Best Man...with Benefits. Nancy Warren
its own band and the rich and famous had waltzed and fox-trotted many a night away here. The French doors were all open to the breeze when the orchestra struck up, and the MC called out the wedding couple for their first dance.
“Hope I don’t fall off my heels,” Amy said as she walked behind Lauren and giggled.
“You’ll be fine,” she whispered back.
Maybe it was corny and sentimental, but she had a moment, watching her best friend dance with her brand-new husband. They held each other briefly and then began to move with the music they’d chosen. She’d tried to talk Amy out of it, but ever since she’d seen Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio on the prow of the Titanic she’d been determined that “My Heart Will Go On” would be her wedding song. Lauren had assumed she’d grow out of that idea, but no. And yet, as she watched her best friend in the arms of her new husband, waltzing to Celine Dion, she felt a real hope that they’d be this happy forever.
“And now, would the parents join Mr. and Mrs. Beauregard, please. And the maid of honor and the best man,” the rich voice said into the mic.
Oh, crap. This was the part she’d dreaded.
Jackson looked as thrilled as she was as he led the way to the dance floor. They didn’t touch until they were pretty much forced to.
He put a hand on her waist.
She put a hand on his shoulder.
He took her other hand. “Ready?”
“I’ll fantasize I’m having electric-shock therapy. The time will pass.”
He moved her in a circle. “I’ll pretend I’m having a last cigarette before the firing squad. I’ll enjoy it.”
“You smoke?” Gross.
“No. But I think if I knew my life was going to end in a couple of minutes anyway, I might take it up.” He twirled her around Seth’s parents. “I’d ask for a king-size cigarette. No filter.”
She watched Amy and Seth, holding each other so close he kept stepping on her dress. “Think they’ll make it?” she asked.
She felt him shrug as his shoulder rose up and down under her hand. “They’ve got a fifty-fifty chance, statistically.”
* * *
ACROSS THE ROOM, a table of men who’d all gone to boarding school with Seth and Jackson were making full use of the open bar. They’d moved on from the dinner wine and were now doing shooters.
“Would you do her?” Willy Ragan asked in a general way, his gaze semi-focused on the dance floor.
“Amy?” Rip Sherken asked.
“No. She’s married, asshole. The other one.”
“The bridesmaid?”
“Yeah.”
They all studied Lauren.
“She’s hot.” Rip burped politely behind his hand. “Bet she goes for Jackson. They always go for Jackson.”
“Not her. Haven’t you noticed? She hates him. Look at them. Acting like a couple of brooms dancing.”
Rip snorted. “The chicks are always all over Jackson. And he gets stuck with the one woman who thinks he’s dog meat. Excellent.”
And between that shooter and the next, Willy came up with a plan that was way funnier than their original idea to TP the bridal suite.
Willy outlined his plan rapidly while all his buddies concentrated on the details.
“How you gonna get her room key?” Rip wanted to know.
“It’s probably in her purse, which she left on her seat,” Willy said. “I saw her leave. Her room’s just down from mine, so I know which one it is.”
Tricking the maid of honor and the best man, who hated each other, into sharing the same hotel room was, they agreed, way better than their original plan. Though, if there was time for both, they still planned to toilet paper the suite.
“We better get her key now, while they’re all dancing,” Willy said.
He got up and found Lauren’s clutch purse on her chair as he’d expected. The clasp took his thick fingers a second to work out, but he soon had it open. There was nothing in there but a couple of tissues, some lipstick and her room key.
He pocketed the room key and then, while he was standing, realized he needed to pee. He veered off to take care of business while he mentally perfected the details of the plan. They weren’t too complicated. Mostly, the plan involved getting Jackson drunk.
* * *
LAUREN ENDED UP having a lot more fun at the reception than she thought she would. A couple of single guys hit on her, as did one older, very drunk, and very married friend of Amy’s father. She laughed with Amy and her girlfriends and, when Amy threw the bouquet, made certain to stand way out of the line of fire.
Then Amy and Seth headed off up the bridal suite and her duties were over.
Still, she hung around for another half an hour or so before slipping away. That luxurious room with the huge bed and the balcony looking out to the sea beckoned her.
Her supposed escort, the best man, had abandoned his tuxedo jacket a while ago and sat hunched around a table with the rest of the frat boys where the booze was flowing. A couple of women had drifted over, and she suspected there’d be some pairing up when the night finally ended. Cynthia was sitting next to Jackson, she noted, hanging on every word he said. Pathetic.
She found her clutch, which had somehow fallen to the floor, and slipped out of the emptying ballroom. Before she got to the elevator, she dug in her purse for her key card, but it wasn’t there.
Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she went to the front desk, where they gave her another.
With a sleepy thanks, she headed up to bed.
When she entered her luxurious hotel room, she threw open the balcony doors and watched the ocean for a few minutes. The moon gilded the waves and the sand stretched endlessly in either direction. A couple, guests of the hotel, probably, walked on the beach. They seemed happily in love. Good for them, she thought, as she went back inside and brushed her teeth. She donned the pretty nightgown she’d brought with her and stretched out in the huge, decadent bed.
She imagined Amy and Seth were right this moment enjoying married sex up in the bridal suite, and that was her last thought before she fell into exhausted sleep.
* * *
JACKSON PULLED OFF his tie and settled around the table with his buddies. He’d done his part, made a speech, danced with the ice queen herself, and now he could simply hang out. He passed on the shooters, but he accepted a scotch. He felt he’d earned it.
That went down so smoothly he drank another.
He went way back with these guys. They were part of the gang that Seth had introduced him to at boarding school. They’d stayed tight ever since. Seth was the first of them to get married. He knew there was a kind of melancholy to them hanging out getting hammered while Seth was off having sex with his new wife.
This was the way of the future. One by one, they’d all get married or move across the country for new jobs or whatever. Their carefree youth was slowly coming to an end.
It was how life was meant to work. But, while they were all still here, minus one, they partied.
Of course they didn’t exclude women from the party, and between the dancing and the drinking and the laughing, it was late when Jackson figured he’d better call it a night. Cynthia tried to slip him her room key but, even though she was an attractive woman and he was a single man, he couldn’t work up the enthusiasm. He claimed he’d drunk too much and took her number. Which he knew he’d never call.
The band