Waking Up With You (5 page)

“Wait, wait…what? He kissed you on the cheek? On the cheek, like a brotherly kiss?” she asks, somewhat miffed.

“Yes, Paige, on the cheek like a brotherly kiss,” I repeat dryly. “Were you, perhaps, expecting a wild, passionate kiss on the lips?” I mockingly ask.

“Well, duh. A kiss on the cheek is like a slap on the face,” she says pointedly. I roll up my eyes.

“Seriously. Weren’t you trying to stop me from getting married a week ago? And now, you’re actually unhappy with the chaste peck I got?” I sigh in an exaggerated manner.

“Since you went ahead and got married despite my great advice, I wanted the ceremony to be at least memorable,” she counters.

I look at her guiltily. “Okay. Actually, it was memorable in a lot of ways. What I didn’t tell you was that I had an anxiety attack just before the wedding. I really thought I was going to faint.”

She looks at me now with excitement in her eyes. “What happened next?”

“He basically told me it’s my decision, but he wouldn’t go back on his word to Charlie. Then we had a little argument about it all being so one-sided – on my part, I mean. Paige, to tell you the truth, I’ve always known how kind Jake is. He was Charlie’s lifeline, and mine, for a long time. But, I felt both admiration and pity for him then. He’s being honorable, and he’s getting the short end of the stick,” I say remorsefully.

“Forget about that! He can afford it. He’s excessively rich! Don’t forget that he’s getting you as a wife. You’re smart, young, and hot. When you get your degree, you’ll make tons of money,” she says like the champion supporter that she is.

“I’ll agree with the young part. Smart? Book-smart maybe.”

Paige pretends to stand up and says, “Goodbye.” We both laugh heartily. “Jake’s house is all glass and steel, and his mirrors are broken?” she jokingly asks.

“We are not going to have this conversation again, Paige,” I lecture her.

“You know what, I take it back. You are not smart at all. If you can’t see what’s in front of you, then you’re dumb.”

“If you see things that don’t exist…” I shrug. Paige smiles. We’ve been besties for so long that we can say practically anything to each other.

“Let’s start again. So after the brotherly kiss, you went home, had dinner and…?” “Fine. I’ll give you all the details, but you must promise not to jump to your outrageous conclusions.” She rubs her palms in glee. “Before we started driving to his house…”

“You mean your house,” she corrects.

“Our house,” I say to humor her. “He gave me a box from the glove compartment.”

“And?” Paige asks excitedly.

“It was the most beautiful, expensive bracelet. He said it was a small wedding present.” I do the air quotes when I say ‘small.’

“Oh my gosh! Where is it? I wanna see.” She looks like a child on Christmas Eve.

“I don’t have it with me. Are you insane?”

“Ughh. What’s wrong with you? Not even a photo?” I shake my head.

Liz arrives with our drinks and tells us the special of the day. It’s lemon mushroom risotto. Ona’s risottos are always creamy, so I order one. Paige orders one of her favorites – pasta primavera.

Paige appears to be thinking about the present. “The gift clearly says he thinks of you as his wife.”

“Yes, but not in the true sense of the word. While we were having dinner last night, he very casually said something about us being married, even though we don’t sleep together.”

“How exactly did he say it?”

“I can’t remember. I said something about us not really being married, and he said that just because we don’t sleep together doesn’t mean we’re not. Something like that,” I say vaguely.

“Oh, then you don’t have to splurge on La Perla lingerie,” Paige says in her irrepressible way.

“The irony is that now I can if I want to. He left credit and debit cards on my desk this morning. He also left keys to a brand new Infiniti,” I save the best for last.

Paige is squealing like a school girl, oblivious to the other diners.

“No wonder you’re so dressed up today! Oh my God, you have to take me for a spin right after lunch.”

I nod my head vigorously. His extravagance bothered me earlier on, but now I seem to be pretty proud of my new wheels. I smile inwardly.

“You know, now that I think about it, maybe he splurged on me because he doesn’t want people to think he’s being stingy with his wife.”

“Jake’s not like that. Based on what you’ve told me, he’s always been pretty generous. I think he just wants to make you happy.”

“Buying my happiness? That seems horribly superficial,” I say pointedly.

“You have serious issues with money, Emma. I don’t mean he’s buying your happiness. I mean that a new car will make you happy. The cost doesn’t even matter because he can afford a hundred of those.” She looks crossly at me.

“Gosh, when did you become such a supporter of Jake?”

“Since he bought you an Infiniti,” she jokes.

I adore this woman. Jake and Charlie were friends since first grade, but Paige and I became friends in 9
^th
grade. I was in a corner of the school building trying to figure out where the classrooms for Spanish were. There she was in the midst of the popular girls. Sensing my confusion, she left her friends and asked, “Lost?” I said yes and she gave me a grand tour. Paige is one of those girls who is blessed with an abundance of confidence and charm. To this day, I still don’t know why she wanted to be my friend. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her, and the same goes for her with me, I know.

Liz brings in our pasta and risotto. I attack my dish with gusto and request a refill on my iced tea. However, I notice that Paige is not even touching her food. “Is something wrong with the pasta?” I ask, a bit alarmed.

“Don’t look back, but a really hot guy has been staring at me for some time now,” she says. I’m not at all surprised that a man is checking her out. She has a legion of admirers. But if she’s distracted enough not to eat, he must really be good-looking. I see her giving him her alluring look and I laugh discreetly. In the meantime, I eat more of my culinary masterpiece from Ona.

“Are you free after lunch?” Paige suddenly asks.

“I’m all yours. I don’t think Jake will be back until dinner, or even later than that.”

“Trouble in paradise? It’s only the second day of your marriage,” she protests.

“Actually, he went back to work yesterday,” I say dryly.

“The man is a true workaholic. Tell him to slow down a bit, smell the roses, go on an extended honeymoon with you.”

“Didn’t I just tell you that it’s not that kind of marriage?” I ask, irritated with her comment.

“At least, not yet,” she says succinctly.

“Oooh, you’re something else, Paige Murphy,” I say, pretending to be angry.

She grins and says, “Are you thinking of ordering dessert?”

“Are you in a rush or something?”

“Well, if that gorgeous man is not going to come over and ask for my number, I may as well get rid of my frustration by going window shopping.”

“Tsk, tsk, Paige, you are so impatient.”

“You know what, never mind, he just paid his bill and is leaving.” She sighs audibly.

“You’ll probably run into him again sometime soon. The crowd here is made up of regulars so, chances are, he’ll be dining here again,” I say to console her.

“Maybe,” she shrugs. “I guess it’s time for dessert. Decadent chocolate cake?” We never tire of ordering this. It’s our absolute favorite.

Later on, it’s time for us to pay the bill, and I stop Paige from paying her share. “Nope, this one’s on me. Or should I say on Jake? This is my wedding reception. Besides, I just got a brand new card that’s waiting to be used.”

“I’m glad you got married then,” Paige says with humor.

“It’s not like I’ll be using it a lot. Jake gave me a part-time gig. I’m the social media person for his firm.”

“No way! Credit cards, a car, and now a job? You’re on a roll!” She looks at me with awe.

It’s just part-time, and I get to work from home. Apparently, he doesn’t want to see me at the office.”

“What do you mean?”

“His story is that it would be distracting for him to see his wife at work. My version is that he probably doesn’t want anyone else to know he’s gotten married.” I really think my version makes more sense.

“I don’t believe your version. However, think about it, having your spouse at work would actually be very boring for both parties.”

I look at her askance. “Where’s the real Paige Murphy? I want my friend back,” I say as I shake her shoulders. “You’ve been on Jake’s side since we started lunch.”

“No, I’m always on your side, but your reasoning is clouded by your insecurities,” she scolds me.

“Whatever. I know I’m right.” I just want to have the last word, and she lets it go.

We start walking outside. Paige’s car is parked a few steps away from mine. She goes near my gleaming car and caresses the hood. “Now, this is a car,” she says admiringly.

“Yours isn’t too shabby. It’s a two-year-old Benz!” It’s true. Paige’s father is a world renowned surgeon and, as can be expected, he spoils his only daughter. It’s a miracle that she’s remained genuinely sweet and down-to-earth.

She starts going to her car and says, “We’ll be taking your car, so just follow me to the house and I’ll put my baby in the garage.”

“Okay, will do.” We reach Paige’s house in less than ten minutes. Her two bedroom house was her high school graduation gift from her dad. She wanted to live apart from the family, and Doctor Murphy happily obliged by giving her a craftsman bungalow designed by Greene and Greene, and built in 1910. He had it painstakingly restored and beautifully refurbished with the modern conveniences of the twenty-first century. He also commissioned a landscape architect to design a lovely English rose garden where Paige has her female friends over for tea parties once a month. Yes, the Murphys do everything on a grand scale.

After checking on her security system, she hops into my car. “Where to, Ms. Paige?” I ask.

“Let’s do the Grove. I hear Eva Swanson just opened a branch of her boutique.”

The Grove is a cluster of retail stores in the historic Farmers’ Market of Los Angeles. It boasts of high end stores and restaurants, with a few moderately-priced establishments thrown into the mix. Paige is a discriminate shopper. Even though she has the means to shop till she drops, she purchases only a few, high-quality pieces. She has what one would call a healthy attitude towards spending. The Grove is one of the places we frequent, though I’m really just there to window shop and confirm her selections. Not surprisingly, Paige has excellent taste in everything, just like you-know-who. You can’t go wrong if you take either one’s advice.

I find a parking spot on the third level and we go down to the street in a series of escalators. It’s the weekend, so the street is filled with shoppers and oglers. One of our silly traditions is to watch the dancing fountains for a couple of minutes and then ride the electric-powered trolley just to go around the complex once.

We then search for the Swanson boutique and find it right next to the sports shoe store. There are a few well-dressed ladies milling around. We carefully check out the racks. I notice Paige staring at the mannequin in the center of the shop. She goes there and examines the outfit — a flowing dove gray gown with lace inserts and beading on the side, with subtle pleats in the deep vee neckline that echoes the pleats which run to the hem.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” she comments in my direction. “This would look wonderful on you.”

“On me? Where on earth would I even wear that?” I’m a jeans and top kind of girl and I rarely go anywhere fancy, so I’m surprised that she would even think I’d wear something like it.

“Emma, you’re married now. Jake probably gets dozens of invitations. You will be expected to attend these functions with him,” she tells me.

I haven’t even considered this, and I get a little nervous at the idea of going to formal affairs with Jake. Will he really be bringing me along? He did casually refer to wifely duties, and now that Paige has brought it up, perhaps that’s what he was talking about? Oh, God, just the thought of making small talk with the rich and sophisticated sends me into a tailspin.

“Em, are you alright?” Paige notices my ‘deer caught in the headlights’ expression.

“Not really,” I say in a low voice. “How did I not think of this?”

“You don’t have to be nervous. I’m sure Jake will be at your side. He’ll ease you in. You’re not expected to be anything but your normal self, Em.” Paige is trying hard to put me at ease. She motions to the saleslady to take the dress off the mannequin so I can try it on.

“No! I really don’t want to,” I demur with feeling.

“Yes, you do. C’mon, I’m dragging you to the dressing room if I have to,” she refuses to listen to my objection. She pulls my arm until I have no choice but to follow her. Once we’re in the dressing room, she starts to unzip my dress. “C’mon, will you please cooperate,” she tells me irately. Paige always gets her way anyway, so I see no point in fighting her.

I step out of my dress and carefully step into the gown. She zips me up and I hear a sharp intake of breath. I see Paige in the mirror, behind me, staring with wide open eyes. “Do I look that bad?” I ask.

“You can be such an idiot, Em. Will you please look into the mirror? You look utterly splendid. It’s like this dress was made for you,” she says in admiration. I look and I see that the gown is a perfect fit. The color goes very well with my hair and skin. But, as usual, Paige is being overly generous with her praise. I look at her like I’m unconvinced.

“You’re not looking hard enough. You have to visualize it with the right hairdo, make-up, and accessories. It’s a winner, Em. You need to buy it. If you don’t, I will buy it for you,” she insists.

Well, if Paige is right, I may need one or two outfits. I guess I should buy it, just in case. I look at the tag and my eyes pop out. “It’s eight hundred dollars, Paige!”

“There is no price for perfection,” she quotes one of her choice aphorisms. “I’m pretty sure your husband spends thrice that amount for a tailored suit.”