Suit Girl 4
"You do too take pot-shots at him. And I have no one to blame but myself. I have created a monster…laughing at your inappropriate comments," I say to Edward.
"Like what?" he says licking his fingers and rolling his sandwich wrapper.
"Baby Cheeks?" I say, mock-stern.
Now here's where I blow it. He stares at me, and I laugh. I laugh like he just said it. He laughs too. He looks really happy, in fact.
"It's not funny," I say laughing. I am a two-timing ridiculous wench. I'm betraying my own fiancé. The one I plan to spend the rest of my life with. The one I am to create oneness with. Whatever that means, and mostly I think of us running a sack race every time Andrews uses that expression.
And what am I doing it for? A pair of sparkling green eyes that belong to…him and whomever…he ends up with. In California where the whole state wears thong bikinis.
And I'm so…shallow. I am making fun of my…guy. I'm dung.
"You're right," Edward says standing and tossing his trash like a pro. Of course, it goes in the metal can with a nice thunk. He imitates a cheering crowd. "If I were Jacob I'd be pissed at you. Oh, wait…he is. All the time."
I'm not laughing now. "What does that mean?"
"You make fun of him. And he takes it. You don't respect him for that. He's stuck. He…doesn't know how to get out of it. He's…Baby Cheeks."
I make a sound. Okay, I smile big, but I'm ready to cry too. "I should be...deported," I whisper. I clear my throat. "I have no character."
"You do," he says, matter-of-factly, dusting his hands off. "That's the thing. It's not Jacob. He begs for it. It's…not you. You're not being you. You're doing that…because it's…a bad fit. It's wrong."
"Suit analogy? Really?'
"Just trying to make my point," he says. Big smile.
"What is your point?" I say, already knowing, understanding.
"Forget it. You're a smart girl. Anyway, it's not my business. I'm not here to bust up your…marriage. Right? I'm here to meet with the groom and his guys about those tuxes."
"You don't think I should marry Jacob," I say. I have never said it before. I have never thought it. I have never put it in a sentence and punctuated it.
"What? Don't lay that on me, Boss-lady." He leaves then. He goes into the storefront, and I am left sitting on the crates holding a damn inch of carrot.
