Lee watched Lacy get dressed for her first day of work. He was reclining back on the pillows under the covers, the sheets across his stomach. He noticed his white t-shirt had a stain on it. He was trying to figure out what it was when Lacy spoke.
"You'll be all right?" she asked, sounding worried.
"I've been home alone before," he answered. "I won't set anything on fire. I promise."
"I meant with taking care of the wedding plans," Lacy said. "You won't have to do all of it. I'll be there for most of it when I can."
"Lace, I've got the Book," he said, pointing to the thick stack of papers on the desk. "I'm good, and if I get stuck, is that not what we pay the wedding planner for?"
"Right," she said, exhaling loudly. "You're right. Sorry. I'm just really nervous."
"You'll be great," he said encouragingly. She smoothed out her dress with her hands and turned to face him.
"Do I look okay?"
"You look beautiful," he said honestly.
"You're sure?"
"Why would I lie?" he countered. This was one thing about her that irked him. She didn't trust him to be honest. She was always double checking him, which was ironic since she was the one who had cheated and lied.
"To get laid," she answered with a laugh.
"If that's what I wanted, I would have laid it on a bit thicker," he reasoned, giving her a crooked smile. She gave a slight laugh.
"That's true," she agreed. "Okay, here I go." She came over to him and bent down to give him a kiss.
"Have a good day," he said after, and she nodded.
"I'll try."
He reached to give her butt a quick swat as she walked away, and she did an exaggerated walk out of the bedroom in return. Chuckling to himself, he reached for his phone. Nothing from Barney. That was fine. He wasn't feeling up to the daily dose of Don't Do It from his friend today. He got up and dressed. He made himself some coffee and something to eat. He tried to figure out what he was going to do today. He didn't have a job yet. He didn't exactly need one. He had a lot of savings from working with Barney. Being a mercenary paid very well.
He eventually found himself back in the bedroom and standing and staring at the Wedding Bible. He sighed. He might as well get started.
...
Emily was feeling genuinely sad as she looked at the woman sitting in front of her. Penelope "Nell" Hodgins was seven months pregnant and getting married in a month (cutting it a bit close, but who was Emily to judge?). She wanted a small affair, but her parents were not happy she was marrying what they deemed a "deadbeat" and wanted nothing to do with the wedding.
"I really wanted my father to walk me down the aisle," Nell whispered, clutching the tissues in her right hand.
"I'm sure they'll come around," Emily said.
"The wedding is in a month," Nell practically spluttered.
"They might come to their senses the day of the wedding," Emily said hopefully. She didn't know what else to say. She wasn't a therapist.
"Chris's parents are practically hippies," Nell went on. "It took me weeks to convince them I wasn't going to have disco balls and tie dye bride's maid dresses."
"Oh dear," Emily said, picturing it. It would have been awfully hideous, in her mind.
"I just want this baby to have her family, all of them," Nell said wistfully, resting her left hand on her belly now.
"Well, I think she will," Emily reasoned. "She already has a wonderful mother."
"Oh, you're too sweet," Nell said, smiling tearfully. "I'm sorry for blubbering all over you. Hormones, you know?"
"Mm," Emily said with a sympathetic nod. She did not know. She'd never been pregnant, and she did her best to stuff down her other hormones that came up once a month. She mostly just got extremely pissed off, and people avoided her, which she was fine with. Nell got to her feet and put her used tissues into her purse.
"I'll call if I need anything else. I think we've got everything mostly wrapped up. Thank you so much for everything," she said. Emily stood as well and reached to shake her hand.
"You're welcome. I think the big day is going to be just wonderful."
Nell touched her own face with her hand while giving Emily a shy smile. Then she walked out. Emily sank back down into her chair. She looked over at her computer monitor when her phone rang on the desk. She reached to answer it.
"Forever Loved, Emily speaking."
"What the hell is Lucinda Handwriting?" a male voice demanded. Emily was taken aback. She pulled the phone receiver back from her ear to look at it as if it could tell her who she was speaking to. No such luck.
"Excuse me?" she said after resting it against her ear again.
"It says here, 'Use Lucinda Handwriting for the invitations,'" the guy went on. "I haven't got a bloody clue what that means." His voice was suddenly very familiar, his accent thick.
Lee.
"Mr. Hendricks?" she asked.
"Who else?" he retorted. "You got other grooms calling you about their wedding plans?"
"Well, no..." A fact that Nigel had reluctantly conceded to when he had handed over the 100 dollar bill the day before.
"Can you tell me or not?"
"Tell you what?"
"What Lucinda Handwriting is!"
"It's a font," Emily said, slightly irritated.
"A font."
"Yes. From a computer."
"I know what a font is."
Emily resisted saying what she wanted to say, which involved a word that rhymed with "duck" and the word "off." She took in a deep breath before continuing.
"What Lacy is saying is that she wants to use the Lucinda Handwriting font from the computer for your wedding invitations. It is quite lovely."
"Can't we just use Times New Roman and call it good?" he asked, sounding annoyed.
"Times New Ro-...what are you, an animal?" she demanded. It slipped out. It really did. She clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent anything else coming out that she'd regret later. He was a client after all, not just some buffoon who was intentionally aggravating her. Although, she wasn't sure at this point. He might very well be.
"Say what you really mean," he replied sarcastically.
"I'm sorry," she said. "That was not professional. I take it back."
"It's fine. You're not too far off."
The fact that he was semi agreeing with her was surprising. She still felt appalled at her bluntness. He just had a way of bringing it out of her when any other time she could stuff it down to rant about with Nigel later.
"No going rogue, remember?" she prompted after a moment. He made a disgruntled sound on the other end of the phone.
"Right. Fine. Thank you for clarifying about the font."
"Of course." She wondered how many other phone calls like this she was going to get from him.
"I'll type up these invitations," he went on.
"I can go over them when they're done," she offered.
"You can read Lucinda Handwriting?"
Emily was about to open her mouth to respond with something snappy when she realized he was messing with her. She closed her mouth and pressed her lips together tightly. The sudden urge to laugh was powerful and very surprising. She tried to remember the last time she'd genuinely laughed.
"Just let me know when they're ready," she said. If she didn't know any better, she could have sworn she heard him smiling on the other end.
"Will do."
The call was ended, and she sat there with her hand on the receiver on its hook, looking at the phone. Lee Hendricks was full of surprises it seemed. She looked at the door when Nigel appeared.
"Our first candidate is here for her interview," he said. He patted the door frame and left. Emily got up and followed him to their boardroom. It was about time they got some extra help around here.
...
Lacy felt completely and utterly overwhelmed. She was sitting at her new desk with her head spinning as she tried to remember everything her new co-worker (and first assistant) Judith had told her. She was starting to think that maybe she wasn't cut out for this.
"Hey, new girl," Judith said now, snapping her attention back to the room. "No time for moping."
"I'm not moping..." Lacy started.
"Miranda needs these tasks completed before lunch," Judith went on, ignoring her. She walked over and handed Lacy a piece of paper. As she scanned it, Lacy felt like she was probably going to get fired before the end of the day.
"B-Before lunch?" she repeated. Judith's dangling earrings tinkled as she shook her head in frustration.
"Are you hard of hearing?"
"N-No."
"Then get off your duff and move it," Judith barked. Lacy leaped to her feet and grabbed her purse. Most of these tasks involved leaving the building.
"I'm going," she said.
"And get back here by 11:45. I take lunch at noon."
"But..." That meant she already lost 15 minutes to get all of these things done. She looked at her watch. It was 9:30 now. She was screwed.
"No buts. This is the job. If you can't do the job, then there's the door," Judith said, pointing. Lacy took in this woman, whose nails were perfectly done and hair beautified just so. With her dress, thin frame, and slightly darker complexion, she looked like a goddess. Lacy swallowed. She felt like a blimp in return. She tugged at her dress, trying to breathe.
"I can do the job," Lacy said unconvincingly. Judith raised a brow at her, and Lacy stopped talking before rushing out. She nearly crashed into someone in the hallway.
"Whoa!" he shouted, dodging her and managing to catch the folder he almost dropped in doing so.
"Sorry!" Lacy exclaimed, continuing down the hall. She did notice his dark hair and blue eyes before leaving, though. He was a very handsome man. She shook her head. Lee was also handsome in his own way, although she did wish at times he had a bit more hair. She wasn't going to do what she always did and shack up with someone else while being with Lee. That was behind her now. She was committed. She was happy.
At least, she thought she was. She looked back to see the man she'd almost bowled over watching her with an amused expression on his face. Her stomach fluttered. No. This was not happening. She forced herself to look away and change her thoughts. Lee. Lee. Lee. Lee.
"Excuse me," she called over the noise as she pushed through the crowds on the street. "Excuse me! My job is on the line here!" No one paid her any attention. Lacy realized that this was city life, and she felt a pang of homesickness for New Orleans. She surged ahead, knowing that she had to get used to it. This was her life now.
She could do this.
...
Lee was a terrible typist. It was not something he'd learned to do properly, nor did he really care to. In this moment, though, he wished he knew what he was doing. He was poking at the keys slowly with his index fingers, pausing every so often to reread what he'd typed. He had no idea how to create a wedding invitation. The only thing he knew was that they needed to go out first in order to have any guests. If he was honest, he'd rather elope, but he knew Lacy wanted the traditional wedding, and he wasn't about to deny her that.
"Ah, damn it," he muttered, rubbing his face. He moved the cursor over to open a window and typed into Google: "How to do a wedding invitation." He got millions of hits. It made his head hurt. He looked at a few examples, and right away he noticed they looked nothing like his. He growled.
He was tired. He'd spent thirty minutes getting the bloody Microsoft Word program open and finding the stupid font. He had spent another thirty to forty minutes typing up what he had so far. He closed all the windows and sat back in his chair. It was almost noon; he was hungry. As he got up and walked to the kitchen, he checked his phone. Nothing from Lacy or Barney. He hoped she was doing okay.
Love you. Hope the day is going well, he texted her. He waited a few moments: no response. Sigh.
He made himself a sandwich and cracked open a beer. He knew he had to eventually do something or else he'd go crazy. He didn't really know what he wanted to do for work, though. Nothing really gave the same thrill as killing a bad guy. He drummed his fingers on the counter top as he thought. He was not a city guy, yet here he was. Lacy had talked him into moving with her, not that he needed much convincing. After Billy got killed on a job, he couldn't stop thinking about how the kid never got the chance to marry the love of his life: Sophia. Barney called him crazy for believing Lacy was the love of his life, which annoyed Lee to no end. So she had seen another guy two years ago. He'd been gone for months after all. Did he expect her to wait forever if there was a chance he was dead? Absolutely not. When he finally told her what he did for a job, she understood why he was gone for so long at times. The second guy had been a genuine mistake. She had told him that. She'd been stressed; he'd been away again. She had panicked thinking she was never going to see him again and acted out. It had hurt, but Lee had forgiven her. She hadn't done it since, and it had been a year and a half. They made it work. They loved each other.
His mind wandered over to their wedding planner: Emily. She was fun to torment. He was going to enjoy that. He'd noticed her face when Lacy mentioned Miranda Priestly. Had she worked for that lady herself? Did she know about her? He tried not to be curious anymore. He went back to his computer and sat down again. Then he continued to type.
...
Barney flipped through the folder on his desk and sighed. Another job. Did it ever stop? He looked up at the photo on the wall of his team that had been taken two months before Billy died. The young man had stood proud, a huge smile on his face. He had loved being a part of The Expendables. Then, when his time had come, he had decided to move on and live his life, get married, have kids...
Barney really wished he had been able to do that. The kid's face when the knife went into his chest played in his mind over and over at times...like now.
"You in here, Barns?" Tool asked, sticking his head through the doorway.
"No, this is his hologram speaking," Barney replied through his cigar.
"Ha, ha," Tool said sarcastically, coming inside the office. "That the job?"
"No, it's my resume," Barney replied. He could be sarcastic too. Tool rolled his eyes as he took it from him. He flipped through it as Barney watched.
"Looks like one hell of a job," he commented after a moment.
"Yea? And here I thought it was all slaps and tickles," Barney retorted. He took another puff of his cigar then.
"Okay," Tool said, dropping the file on the desk and giving Barney a look. "You gotta let this thing with Christmas go."
"I never said anything about him!"
"You don't have to; it's all over your face! Look at you!" Tool exclaimed, gesturing with his hand.
"I can't see my own face without a mirror, can I?"
"You're being cranky and difficult for no reason," Tool went on, unfazed. "You hole yourself up in here drinking all day and barely eat. I know losing Billy was hard, but losing Christmas from the team right after was harder. You have to admit that." Barney had discreetly moved his whiskey glass farther away from him while Tool spoke, as if that could prove he hadn't been drinking before lunch today.
"I'm not denying that it's hard," Barney said after. "There's no denial here."
"Okay, but you gotta move on," Tool insisted. "You gotta start living properly again, and for the love of God, quit using the garbage can as an ashtray before you set the bloody place on fire!" Barney was mid-tap with his cigar over the wicker garbage can, and he paused.
"My ashtray is full."
"Then empty it!"
"I'm getting to it," Barney insisted. "I'm busy." Tool reached over, picked up the ash tray, and, in seconds, dumped it over Barney's head. He set it down on the desk hard after and crossed his arms. Barney sat there, blinking through the ash, and coughed slightly.
"Thank you," he said.
"If I don't see you eat lunch today, I'm gonna force feed you," Tool warned, pointing at him.
"Eat lunch. Got it," Barney said with a nod. Tool left him alone then, and he sat there for a moment before beginning going to the bathroom to wash his head and look at himself in the mirror.
Tool was right. It was all over his face.
...
Emily was very surprised to see Andrea Sachs sitting at the table across from Nigel. She halted in her tracks, trying to understand what she was seeing here.
"Hi, Em," Andrea said.
"Andy," Emily said back after finding her voice again. "What are you doing here?"
"Having an interview," Andrea answered with a smile. Nigel was nodding and smiling too. Emily moved to sit next to him, and he slid the spare notepad and pen over to her so she could take notes.
"I stumbled upon Andy at the cafe, and she is looking for a job," Nigel explained.
"But...aren't you in journalism?" Emily asked.
"I was, but I have to be honest, it just didn't feel right after a while."
"So you thought giving wedding planning a go would be a fun idea," Emily finished for her. Andrea gave a light shrug and smiled again.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Do we really need to do this interview?" Nigel asked Emily. "I like her already. I know her work ethic."
"Who else did we have to interview?"
"Um, a Jane Nichols," Nigel answered. "Sorry, Doyle. Jane Doyle." Emily dropped her left hand on the table with a slight smack and turned to look at him.
"The 27 dresses woman?" she asked. "She'd be a better pick than Andy! No offense." She threw Andrea an apologetic-but-not-really-apologetic look.
"I get it," Andrea agreed. "Jane would have more experience than me, and her husband is that guy who writes the wedding articles. Malcom Doyle? He's nice."
"You've met him?" Emily asked.
"We shared an office space for a bit," Andrea answered. "Seriously, guys, if you want to go with Jane, it's okay."
"Emily? A word?" Nigel said, getting up and gesturing for her to follow, which she did. When they were outside, Nigel shut the door and faced her.
"What?" Emily asked.
"I want Andy," he said. "I know her, and she will fit right in here."
"Can we get Jane to do part time or something?" Emily asked. "I really think having her experience on board would help us." Nigel pursed his lips as he thought about this.
"Having Jane means having access to the man who writes those beautiful wedding pieces in the paper," Emily went on. "And don't pretend you haven't read one."
"Okay, okay. Ahhh," Nigel said, sucking in a breath.
"We are expanding, and it would make things a bit easier on us," Emily added, giving him a meaningful look. Then she remembered. "And you said we could hire two people!"
"I know, I know. Okay," he finally agreed. "Deal. We hire Jane too." Emily pumped her fist as he opened the door to the boardroom. "Andy? You're hired."
"Really?" Andrea asked.
"Yes. When can you start?"
"Right now?"
"Come on then," Nigel said, gesturing. Andrea got up and walked towards them quickly. "I'll show you to your desk." Emily stayed put, knowing that Jane was next for an interview. She was feeling excited. Having two new helpers would mean she could go home at a reasonable hour, like nine instead of midnight. How wonderful.
...
Lee looked up when Lacy came home from work. It was seven, and Lee was wondering how an assistant worked such late hours. He watched her take off her shoes and hang up her purse. As soon as he looked at her face, he could tell something was wrong.
"How was your day?" he asked, deciding to see if she'd tell him instead of making him ask.
"It was okay," she answered. She came to sit next to him, and he handed her a glass of wine. She tucked into him and rested her head on his shoulder. He placed a hand on her knee.
"You seem down," he noted when she didn't offer what was wrong.
"It was just a lot more than I expected," she told him. "Miranda is very busy, and she is very particular. I just feel like I screwed up so much today."
"I'm sure you did fine, luv."
"You didn't see the way she looked at me," Lacy sighed. "If looks could kill, hers would kill you and then bring you back to kill you again."
"Tough woman."
"Very. Anyway, it's fine. I'll be fine. How was your day?" Lacy asked, moving to give him a kiss.
"Quiet," he replied after. "I worked on the invitations."
"That's great, baby. I'll look at them tomorrow," she promised. "I'm so tired." She put her head back down, and Lee rested his cheek against it. She played with his fingers absently. He tried not to notice that he was missing that tingling feeling when she touched him. He chalked it up to them being together for three years and surviving two affairs. You couldn't stay in the honeymoon stage forever.
"I think I'm going to have a bath and go to bed early," Lacy said after a bit.
"It's seven thirty," Lee noted, surprised.
"I know. I'm just so exhausted, and I have to be up by five."
"Doesn't an office job imply an 8 to 5 timeframe?" he asked.
"Not this one," she said grimly, patting his leg. "Sorry, babe." He sat there feeling confused as she left him alone. He was starting to get a very bad feeling about this job and what it was going to do to their already fragile relationship.
...
Emily was beyond thrilled. Andy was hired. Jane was hired. They were expanding and getting more clientele. Everything was good. Emily really liked Jane. The woman was warm and friendly, and she had so many connections from helping so many other women get married. It was perfect. They were going to meet Kevin, a.k.a. Malcolm, soon too and see if he wanted to do write ups about some of their weddings. All the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place.
She propped up her feet, sipped her wine, and flicked to the nature show on TV. It was a secret hobby of hers, watching nature series. She didn't know what it was about them that made her feel calm and relaxed, but it worked every time. It took her mind off of work.
Speaking of work, she hadn't heard anything else from Lee, so she assumed he had figured out the font thing. She hadn't told Nigel about it. For some reason, she wanted to keep Lee to herself. If Nigel knew that Lee had almost made her laugh, he would have something to say about it. Everyone knew that Emily never laughed. She couldn't remember the last time she had properly laughed at something. She had faked laughed lots, of course, but she didn't do it for herself. It was a mystery as to why Lee had almost dragged this abnormal behavior out of her. She didn't know what it meant. She didn't want to know what it meant. She didn't need to know. She would help him with his wedding, and then he'd be on his way.
Easy peasy.