Author's Note: Yes, you're correct. You may have read this story before. I wrote The Wedding five years ago. It was early in my writing career. Taking a break from editing my book, I decided to revisit my early stab at writing. Over four hundred grammar errors were found. UGH! I rewrote the story, repaired the errors, and enhanced the story. If you were in the midlle of the story you can pick it up where you left off or start from the beginning.

Enjoy the read and please review. Reviews are the one perk we get as Fan Fiction authors.

September 20th

Thursday Night

To the east is Central Park, the city's playground. The west, the Hudson River. And Broadway, with its stores, running up the middle. Everything a young, okay, young middle-age, no, let's go with young girl, could want. Bookstores, restaurants, supermarkets, clothing stores, and bars, lots of bars line Broadway. "Let's go inside," I say.

"Oh God, this place is packed with guys," Johanna says.

Johanna is on the prowl, and my job, since freshman year at New York University, is wingman. Babysitting some guy's loser friend might not appeal to some people, but free drinks make it palatable.

Thursday night is meet market night. The bar of choice is a local joint, The Red Herring. Loud music, low lights, and large drinks make this place popular. Meeting a guy, or guys, is Johanna's plan tonight.

"Who are you looking at?" I ask.

Johanna points to a guy in a navy blue suit. My guess, a stockbroker. He's six-foot with sandy blond hair that falls over his forehead. My hand waves across my flushed face. "Um, he's okay." A tiny white lie.

She throws her arms around herself and squeezes. "Yummy!"

Between work, work, and work, we haven't gone out together for two months. Who needs a social life, anyway. But since this weekend is free of work, now is a good time to get back in the swing.

"Are you ready?" Johanna asks.

Johanna gets the thumbs up as the Long Island Iced Tea flows with ease.

"I gave him my patented smile, and he's coming this way and he's bringing a friend." Johanna straightens out her dress, an iridescent lavender sheath dress that shows every curve. Skinny bitch.

"Hi, I'm Aaron." He flashes a crooked smile

Johanna has excellent taste. Aaron talks with an air of confidence.

"And this is Kyle."

Kyle is not as tall, not as blond, and is flat in the air department. They put out their hands and we shake them.

"I'm Jo and this is Kat."

A wave follows my hello.

"Can we buy you drinks?"

I pointed to the drink when Johanna jumps past me.

"Yes, that would be nice."

Aaron signals the bartender for another round. A backup drink can't hurt.

"Jo, would you like to dance?" Aaron asks.

"Sure!" Johanna hops off the bar stool and drops her purse in my lap.

My eyes get wide. I want to tell Johanna, 'don't leave me alone, please,' but she bobs away.

"Kat is a pretty name," Kyle says. "What is it short for?"

The wingman's job starts. I revolve the barstool. "Katniss, but please, call me Kat." Kyle takes a seat, assuming it would be offered. "Do you come here often?"

Kyle flashes his green eyes. "All the time." He sips his drink. "Ever since I broke up with my girlfriend."

The Long Island Iced Tea almost comes up. Please don't talk about your ex.

"We were together for three years."

Please stop, your past relationship isn't interesting.

"I don't understand what happened."

The backup Long Island Iced Tea will come in handy.

"She had radiant, long, blonde hair."

Oh Christ, please, shut your pie hole.

"We walked hand-in-hand all the time. At least I thought we were happy. I bought her everything she wanted."

My only job is to babysit this crybaby. The boys my sister Prim hung out to dry comes to mind. On our lawn, we would find a boy whining. 'Oh, why did she do it?' Blah, blah, blah. It churns my stomach.

"Her hair glistened in the sun like strands of gold."

He's still whining! I bailed on Kyle, and he doesn't notice. Johanna does an about-face and waves. My fingers form an 'L' on my forehead. She signals one more minute. The deal is almost closed. She is getting his number. It's puzzling why she goes through the effort. She can just walk through and ask guys for their numbers. It must be the thrill of the hunt.

Bingo, he hands her his business card. She walks back swinging her caboose through the crowd.

"Ready to go?" I ask.

Johanna waves the business card high in the air.

"What's he do?"

Without her glasses, she squints. "Financial planner."

"I guessed stockbroker. Close enough. Let's go." I glimpse back and Kyle is still whining at the bar. "I can't believe you plopped that guy in my lap. You're aware I'm seeing someone."

Johanna raises her eyebrows. "Is that what you call what you guys have?"

I blink. "Well, I am seeing him."

She grins. "Well, you're a great friend, Kit-Kat. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Johanna is lying. She has high cheek bones, thin red lips, and auburn hair that frames her face. She only hides her deep golden brown eyes when she wears her smart-woman glasses. Most woman would kill for her thin as a rail body. She is fine on her own.

"I know how hard it is for you to do this for me. I appreciate it. Really, I do."

Now it's my turn to roll my eyes. "Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Jo."

"Cab or walk?" Johanna asks.

Both our apartments are close by so we vote for walking. It's a pleasant fall evening. The balmy air caresses my face. The night is cloudless. If there wasn't a street lamp every one hundred feet, the stars would light the sky. There is no hurry. Plus, as a bonus, we walk by the bakery.

"That aroma." Johanna takes a deep breath.

The scent of fresh baked bread overwhelms the smells of the city. "Yeah, reminds me of home."

On our stroll home, Johanna sashays ahead. Her swaying hips called to mind a metronome keeping time.

"What are you looking at?" Johanna asks.

"I'm just amazed at how easily you swing that ass of yours."

She walks four more steps, reverses, and comes back. "You walk. Let's see if you learned anything from me in fifteen years."

After a few steps, I make a one-eighty and return. "Well?"

"Kit-Kat, I might not watch much hockey, but I understand enough to know what you're doing is called a hip-check."

My shoulders slump and my lower lip juts out.

"Oh, don't pout." She puts her arm around me. "I'm willing to put in another fifteen years if you are."

My breathing and heart slowed soothed. "Thank you, Johanna."

"Anything for you, Katniss."

Johanna links her arm with mine. Her grin spread across her face.

"What's cooking that twisted mind of your's?"

She sprinted with me in tow.

"Johanna, no. I'm in heels." After ten steps, I bent over and gasp for air. "Thank God you stopped."

"It looks so easy when they run in heels in the movies."