Disclaimer: I do not own Wizards of Waverly Place. No profit is being made from releasing this fictional story.

Author's Note: Another chapter proofread and done! I'm sure there are bound to be a few mistakes, but please be forgiving?

Let's read on!

A Familiar Pattern 29

By genielou

"The white one. With the three layers. It'll do."

Harper scrunched her nose as Andy pointed to one of the pictures of wedding cakes laid out in front of them. She eyed another picture longingly—one that had an array of pastel-colored frosting and bright yellow birds on thin sticks erected on various parts of the cake, making them seem like they're dancing around the miniature representatives of an embracing newly-wed couple. She reached out and allowed her fingers to ghost the surface of glossy image, before retreating it back upon the scowl that her soon-to-be-husband directed to her.

They were both situated in the admitting area of her studio office. Ten days has passed since they have both been in that very same building together, arguing over Andy's decision to suddenly take control over the wedding arrangements. Needless to say, Andy won the argument and their current meeting with her personal assistant, Ella, who drove for three hours from the city just to discuss with them the finalities of all wedding-related things. The poor thing… Andy phoned her the previous night, demanding to review everything that they have organized hastily for the past few days. She only had a limited time to gather boxes full of things to present to him. By the time that Andy and Harper had sat down on the couch, the coffee table was already stacked with many items ranging from papers and pictures, to strips of fabrics and fake flower petals.

"Sorry," Harper breathed out as she rested her hand on her lap while averting her eyes away from the growing annoyance in his demeanor.

Andy smiled stiffly while his eyes glanced at Ella, who sat on the ottoman directly across from them. She shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable at the subtle unhappy exchanges that Harper and Andy seemed to dance around for the past three hours. He gave a stern nod to Ella, indicating for her to move on to the next set of topics to be addressed. With a nervous frown, Ella quickly jotted down a few notes on her notepad before putting away the cake pictures and replacing them with another set of pictures. She took out her pad again and turned a few pages.

Harper's eyes widened as she took in the pictures of bridal gowns. A slight feeling of anger threatened to arise as she contemplated the newly discovered fact that she will not be choosing her own dress.

"Alright, these are the few that I thought were similar to what Ms. Finkle usually wears," she said slowly. She narrowed her eyes and adjusted her glasses to the bridge of her nose as she scrutinized her own handwriting. "That one on the left is a Vera Wang… over there is Coco Chanel… uhm, that—that is a Lacroix—I really like that one. A lot of layers and just the slightest hint of pinks and yellows—"

"No. No, these won't do," Andy interrupted with a shake of his head. "Too—too much. Her gown needs to be white. Plain white. Simple. And pure white, not off-white."

"Uh—uhm," Ella stammered. Her eyes immediately scanned the other boxes on the floor. She dropped her pad on the table as she frantically reached into the boxes and began digging through the folders within it.

Harper turned pleading eyes towards Andy. "I really like the Lacroix, Andy," she began. "It suits me. I'm sure he'd be willing to tone it down to a complete white if I ask him nicely." Her eyes glanced at the picture of the dress; the corner of her lips rose slightly at the thought of wearing it.

Andy frowned. His lips thinned to a firm line as he shook his head. "No time. You're wearing something that is already made. No adjustments."

Her brows met as she scowled at him. She would've glared if she didn't suspect that they would get into another heated argument over it. With a huge sigh, she leaned back onto the couch defeatedly and looked sympathetically at her secretary.

Ella re-emerged from her digging and plopped a folder onto the table. She took a picture out of it, hesitated, and then placed it onto the table for them to see. "Um, this? Very simple. A Justin Alexander, from his fall 2012 line. Mermaid with a medium train… fully-sequined but only two layers, and then a third layer of lace."

Harper shook her head. "I don't like lace. It makes me look too much like a sai—"

"It's perfect," Andy cut in. His eyes focused on Ella and didn't spare any attention to Harper at all. Order her size, and ask to have a lace cover for her hair as well."

This time, Harper couldn't help but glare. "You want me to look like Mother Theresa?"

One look. That was all he gave her before turning back to Ella again. "Let's continue," he said. Harper huffed before crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back onto the couch again.

They continued in that manner for another three hours, exhausting her assistant immensely. Andy insisted on moving from one subject to another without pause, and never offered a break to neither of the ladies. Harper knew Andy to have amazing stamina (their intimate times together had been proof of that), and wondered momentarily if that same stamina translated to regular activities, like having the patience to sit still for hours and make serious decisions. She only entertained this for a good ten seconds, and then concluded that Andy was merely motivated into acting like as much of a jerk as he possibly could. By early afternoon, they had finalized the venue arrangements, guest-seating, color themes, dresses, tuxedos, and everything else. Harper had no say in anything whatsoever.

"Alright, I think that's all of it," Ella sighed with relief. She made a few final notes in her notepad, placed it onto the coffee table, and started putting things back into their designated piles and boxes. "Whew, that was a lot."

Andy nodded as he stood to pick up her notepad. He flipped through the pages and eyed each sheet with approval. "The rehearsal dinner is taken cared of, right? I emailed you a list of what I wanted last Tuesday."

Ella looked up briefly from her task. "Um, yes, sir. Everything is set. I have a meeting with the event coordinator for the hotel tomorrow morning to make the final deposit."

"What? Rehearsal dinner?" Harper exclaimed, and then lightly winced at the high pitch of her voice.

"Good," Andy said, completely ignoring Harper. He dropped the pad onto the table with a loud plop, turned, and walked away towards the kitchen area.

Harper quickly followed him in fast strides. She allowed the door to close behind them before whispering with a hiss. "Rehearsal dinner? When?"

Andy spared her a glance while he took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. "Tomorrow night."

Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up. "Tomorrow night?" she exclaimed. "And you didn't think to tell me this sooner?"

"I didn't think there'd be problem with it. We are getting married, after all," he countered. He drank from the bottle thirstily, finishing it with a huge sigh. With six hours of limited water-intake, it was a surprise that he was still standing.

"Well, what am I supposed to wear? And how about my parents? And the Russo's? They can't fly here at the last minute. Even if they miraculously find a last minute flight and leave tonight, that's still not enough time for them to situate themselves and attend," she said, all in one breath. "And my business partners? They're very busy people. A week's notice wouldn't be enough for them to attend."

Andy waited for Harper's little panic attack to subside. He calmly answered, "Your parents are already here. They arrived yesterday and are situated at the Hilton in Paris. They're currently enjoying the scenery with their tour guide and will be expecting a car to pick them up for the dinner tomorrow. Mr. and Mrs. Russo, Max, and Alex will be arriving tomorrow by flashing. And your business partners have been notified that they are no longer invited. You have decided to have a very small, intimate wedding ceremony so only family and very close friends are invited."

Her eyebrows rose. "And you just decided this without consulting me? How about Jean? Or Pierre and Michelle? If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be where I am now. They should be there when I get married."

Andy shrugged nonchalantly. "No room. I'm sure they'll understand."

Her jaw dropped at the lack of care in Andy's voice. She was about to retort but thought best of it at the last second. Taking a deep breath, she allowed for a few moments to pass as Andy took a cup from the cupboard and filled with coffee.

"Andy," she started, her voice soft and gentle. "Can we please talk?"

He took a sip and savored the hot beverage going down his throat before answering. "We've already talked."

Harper sighed. "Andy, please. There is nothing going on between me and Justin. Trust me. I would never do that. I would never even consider it."

"Right," he scoffed. "Okay."

"Andy."

"Harper," he matched her tone. "Just the fact that you even talk to him is already a consideration. Your rekindling your friendship is even more. It's an insult to me. To us."

"Nothing is going on with me and him!"

"It doesn't matter!" Andy yelled back. A tiny crack appeared on his cup as his grip unconsciously tightened. The white of his knuckles ceased as he carefully placed the cup onto the kitchen counter and heaved a huge groan. "I'm tired of this. Why can't you understand—"

"Why can't you understand?" she countered. She stepped closer to him and grabbed both of his hands. "Andy, I love you. I. Love. You. Justin is just my friend. Those few times that we hung out were just that: hanging out. Nothing more. Why is it such a big deal?"

"It's a big deal because you didn't tell me," he countered. "It's a big deal because you used to love him, and he loved you."

"Loved. Past tense. We're nothing now," she said as softly as she could.

Andy shook his head. "Then why keep it a secret from me?"

Harper furrowed her brows. "I didn't think it would matter this much. He's just a friend. We hung out because work was getting hectic and I needed a break. He would show up sporadically and offer coffee, and I would accept. That is it."

Andy shook his head again. He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he looked at her, there was evident hurt in his expression. "If you needed a break, why didn't you call me?"

"I- I didn't—" she tried to answer him, but for the life of her, she didn't know how. "Andy, this is nonsense."

"No, it's not." He pulled his hands away from hers. "When the woman that I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with prefers to be in the company of some other man, it is anything but nonsense."

"I already told you that there is nothing—"

"And when she prefers to spend most of her time in her office than finalize our wedding, which is supposed to be the most important event of our lives, it is definitely not nonsense."

"So now you're attacking my work?" she yelled again, suddenly very irked. "You know how important my work is to me. I've spent most of my life in the shadow of someone else—my parents, Alex, those anorexic hypocrites at school, and then Justin— my clothing line, my work, is very important to me. It's what I've worked my entire life for!"

"A life that, apparently, you're having trouble fitting me in," he said quietly.

That stopped her. She wanted to say more, but the impact of what he said was too much to contemplate at that moment. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out.

They stayed in close proximity of each other; close in distance but not touching. He looked at her sadly while her eyebrows furrowed in worry. She was overwhelmed with emotions, and the realization that she may not be on the right side of the argument was not easy to swallow.

Before neither of them could say or do any more, the door to the kitchen swung open and a very angry brunette walked through. Her boot heels clicked loudly on the linoleum floor with every step. Andy turned to her in annoyance while Harper pressed her fingers to her forehead as she felt a migraine start to form.

"Hey! Fish Face! What the hell is going on?"

Harper sighed. "Alex, this is not a good time."

"I am so sorry, Ms. Finkle! I didn't let her in, I swear!" Ella tried to explain as she followed closely behind Alex. "She had a key!"

"Look, Glasses. The adults need to talk right now," Alex said. "Go eat a baguette or something."

"Alex!" Harper scolded at her. She had been expecting this for some time, but, honestly, Alex really does have the worst timing. She offered a sympathetic expression towards her assistant. "Thank you, Ella. Please finish packing and attend to the rest of our arrangements for the rest of the day."

With a small nod, she exited the room quickly. Hasty shuffling could be heard from the greeting area, a few thuds, and then, finally, the closing of a door. Harper took a deep breath before addressing the source of her headache. "Alex. How nice of you to visit," she greeted.

"Nuh-uh, none of that. I'm mad at you!" Alex said. "The wedding is in four days? What the frak!"

Andy stepped closer to Harper. "We've decided to push the date."

"We? Or you?" Alex asked, her voice dripping with hostility. "Somehow, this little bout of surprise has your scaly face tagged all over the fine print."

"Alex! No, Andy! Don't!" Harper exclaimed. Andy made a move towards Alex, but Harper quickly grabbed his arm and held him back. She took him by both shoulders and faced him towards her. "Andy, please! Let me take care of this, okay? Please?"

His lips firmed as he tried to keep in the nasty words threatening to escape from him. With a curt nod, he placed a kiss on her forehead, and moved away from her hold. He walked out of the kitchen, but not before directing another disdainful glare at Alex.

"That's right, buddy. Walk away before I break out the frying pan and tartar sauce!"

The door closed with a loud bang. Harper winced as she heard the bang of another door as Andy made his way out of the building, and then again as she heard the bang of the gates echo through the window. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, already anticipating the earful that she was about to receive from Alex.

"All right, Redhead. Out with it," Alex demanded. "I don't hear from you for over a week and then this? I want to know what's going on. Right now!"

Harper sighed. "Do you want details or just a summary?"

Alex frowned, contemplated the options, and then answered, "Summary first."

"Alright-y then," she nodded. "Andy found out about my hanging out with Justin, freaked out, decided to take over the wedding stuff, and finalized for our wedding to be held in two weeks. This happened last week. So… I'm getting married in four days."

Alex raised an eyebrow and looked at her intensely for a solid thirty seconds, waiting for a punch line. When nothing came, Alex frowned. "That's not funny."

"Yes, well, I don't think so either. It's so far from funny, that I feel like being a grouch about it," Harper rambled while waving her hands in the air in exasperation. "And you know what sucks about all of this? It's that I shouldn't be a grouch because this is finally happening. Because, technically, this should've happened over a year ago. By the way, that was Andy's selling point. Apparently, my dedication was so waned that he had take matters into his own hands. I can't even argue with that. I can't! Because… well… it makes sense, right? I've been holding off on our wedding for so long because I've been so busy with work. It's always work, work, work, and, before I knew it, I completely neglected him. Which is totally not cool because I know how it feels to be on that side of the schtick; and I can tell you right now, it's wretched there! And I can't beeeellliiiieeevveeee that I actually became that person. I'm that person!"

Both of Alex's eyebrows rose to the line of her bangs. She waited a moment for Harper's heavy breathing to subside before offering, "Okay. I really want to stay mad, but I am so confused that I'm starting to wonder if we're on the same conversation here."

Harper huffed as she walked out into the greeting area. Alex followed her and dropped herself comfortably onto the couch as Harper started pacing in front of her.

"I knew this would happen. I knew. In the back of my mind, my subconscious was nagging at me that this would happen if I suddenly started being friends with Justin again, but I ignored it. I knew, and I still let it happen…"

Alex winced. "Uh… sorry to break this to you, buddy, but I kinda knew it too. Only, I didn't think it would be because of the Justin thing," she offered, then suddenly frowned. "Now! Back to me and my being mad at you. What the freakin' donut-lovin' heck happened while I've been away? I want details now."

Harper didn't hear the rest of what Alex said past her addressing Justin's name. "What do you mean by you didn't think it would be because of Justin?"

Alex raised an eyebrow haughtily and crossed her arms. "I do believe I moved on from that topic already."

Harper challenged her by crossing her arms as well. Neither moved for a while.

Finally, Harper shook her head and sighed heavily. "Why do I even bother?" she muttered to herself. "Fine. It all started over a week ago. I found Andy in here, apparently looking through my stuff…"

The rest of Harper's day was spent explaining to Alex exactly what had happened with Andy. Every detail was covered (per insistence by Alex), and every detail was talked over (again, per insistence of Alex). For once in her life, Harper was mildly surprised at how good of a listener Alex was. For hours, Alex kept her snide remarks to herself and merely listened with the occasional nod or shake of the head. She had even flashed in a box of pizza and drinks (a bottle of scotch and a liter of Orange Fanta, again per Alex's insistence). They poured over Harper's frustrations and difficulties towards the entire affair; Alex had even made a slight game out of it. Everytime Harper exclaimed "Ugh!", said "Justin" or "Andy", or uttered "Why is this happening to me?", they both took of sip of their drinks. Three hours into the game, when they were both giggly, the topic slowly changed into the good ol' days when things were simpler and happier.

Harper vaguely remembered glancing at the clock at almost midnight. Although, after that, she couldn't recall exactly what time they had finally expired. All she knew was that she woke up during early afternoon the next day, sprawled on familiar cushions and covered in comfortable sheets. It was only when she opened her eyes and recognized the lime green color of her ceiling did she realized that she was in the bedroom of her apartment.

Alex must have flashed me here, she concluded. She blinked a few times and immediately regretted it. The sheen of the new day that shimmered through her window drapes assaulted her irises and created dots in her vision. A dulled, hazy pain slowly crept to the front of her head.

"My head… ow," she muttered as she tried to sit up. She could feel a hang-over forming. Her head felt heavy and her thinking was dazed. She needed coffee, with five times the usual amount of espresso and at least seven teaspoons of sugar.

She found Alex's note taped to the refrigerator when she rummaged through her kitchen to make the very strong coffee. The promise of Alex's return later, before going to the rehearsal dinner, reminded Harper of just that. For a decent amount of time, Harper had actually forgotten how hectic her life had become. And now that she was right back into it, her heart did not waste time before quickening its beating. Her brain joined in with bombarding her of every distinct memory of the past ten days, causing Harper's headache to heighten as well.

Harper didn't wait for the coffee to finish cooking. With a frustrated growl, she snatched the carafe from its perch and poured the coffee into her mug, while ignoring the hiss of her coffee machine as the coffee continued to drip into the hot plate of the machinery. She blew into her mug a few times before taking a sip. Just this once, she decided to neglect her usual mixtures of sugars and cream. She spent a good hour sulking by the kitchen pantry as she worked her way through a whole pot of coffee; black, all the while. She gulped down three more mugs-worth of the second pot of coffee—filled to the brim—before finally deciding to start readying herself so that she can tackle the new day.

Time seemed to go by very slow as she cleaned herself for the night's event. She took her time showering, making sure to massage the conditioner onto her hair for at least five full minutes; and took even longer time drying her hair and moisturizing her skin. Afterwards, she cleaned her bedroom, alphabetized her contacts, dusted and vacuumed the living room, and even cleared out her refrigerator. When she finally ran out of things to do, there was still four hours to go before she had to start preparing for the rehearsal dinner. She had no choice but to watch random television shows. By the third soap opera that she endured, she was ready to strangle herself.

She was just about to throw the remote at the wall when the door bell rang. Harper frowned in curiosity as she pushed herself off of the couch to answer it, and immediately smiled as Ella greeted her with a big grin.

"Ms. Finkle," she said with a slight curtsy. "I come bearing gifts."

Harper took the long, flat box from her and stood aside to let her in. "Ella, I think I've said this a million times since I hired you three years ago. It's Harper. Call me Harper. Harpie, if you want to get spunky with it."

Ella giggled as she set her purse on the coffee table. "But I like calling you Ms. Finkle. I feel like I'm Anne Hathaway when I treat you like you're a super scary, business woman."

Harper quirked an eyebrow. "You don't mean… like I'm Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada?"

Ella's grin grew wider. "Yes!"

Harper shook her head as she smiled. I knew I hired her for a reason, she thought. She settled the box onto the couch, opened it, and immediately grimaced at the color that assaulted her eyes. "Is this-," she stammered as she glanced at her assistant, "is this what I'm wearing tonight?" Tiny pearl beadings swimming in the baby blue material screamed out at her as she tried to imagine herself in it. She hesitated for a moment before she hooked a finger on each sleeve and pulled the dress out of its confines. She groaned out loud as she eyed the layers of ribbons and tulle that decorated the dress's skirt area. "Why—why…"

Ella gave her a sympathetic smile. "Mr. Bisca was very specific on how he would like you to be presented." She took out her pad of paper from her bag and flipped to a specific page. "He said he wanted you to look pretty, kind, girly—"

"Girly?"

"—innocent, child-like, adorable, sweet—"

"Like a commercial for skittles?"

"—and young."

"I am young!" Harper exclaimed.

Ella shrugged. "I supposed he meant, um, maybe, like, younger?"

Harper made a face at her. She released the offending dress and let it drop onto the couch. "He's one to talk. Like he's not almost a hundred years old," she muttered to herself as she started heading towards the kitchen area. Ella's ears perked at the ludicrousness of what she said, but just shook her head and dismissed it. "Is there time to get my parents to come here first? I'd really like to spend some time with them before I have to get all, you know, girly and young," she said as she took a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

Ella bit her lower lip. "I don't think you'll have time for that. Ramón will be here in twenty minutes to start on your hair, and then Jeanne will do your make up."

Harper scowled. "He doesn't think the way I do my hair and make-up is sweet enough?"

Ella could only shrug and avert her gaze from the daggers that Harper was directing to the rest of the world.

Two hours later, after Harper had dismissed Ella to attend to her parents' arrival at the allotted venue, she stood unmoving in front of her vanity mirror in full get-up. She stood silently as her eyes trailed along the outlines of her body. Her nose scrunched as she scrutinized herself. The sleeveless dress hung loosely past her knees and flowed like oceanic waves with her every move. The blue, although not her favorite color, complimented the light pastel pinks that had been lightly brushed on her eyes and cheeks. Her hair was pulled tightly back into a fish braid, decorated with tiny daisy-shaped clips. A few escaped strands were manipulated to shape her slightly round face. All in all, she looked… feminine, sweet, and definitely young. She cursed bitterly at the genius of her assistant. The recently-graduated fashion/business major definitely knew how to present her boss exactly the way that Andy had described. A little too well, in fact. From the pink tinge of her lips to the clear shimmer of her nails; everything about Harper exuded a 'Shirley Temple'-esque appearance.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of snickering coming from somewhere to her left. She groaned as she anticipated what was to come.

"Did I just step into a time machine and traveled to the past?" Harper heard between the snorts and giggles. She rolled her eyes as she turned, and aimed a well-deserved scowl at her best friend. "On the other hand, that does not compare to what you used to wear. Oh my gosh! Remember the rainbow-markers dress? That one was at a totally new level!"

Harper sighed heavily. "I look like I'm twelve years old!"

Alex scoffed. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves now," she joked. She entered the room and hopped on Harper's bed, carelessly kicking her high-heeled shoes aside. "At best, you look like you're about to celebrate your sweet sixteen. Nice job hiding your wrinkles, by the way."

"I do not have wrinkles, Alex! And thank you, by the way, for the monster headache that I had this morning," she exclaimed. She turned back to the mirror and frowned at her appearance. "This is just for one night. I can do this."

"So I'm assuming this is your hubbie's idea of a joke?" Alex inquired. "Should'a known. That scaley-faced—"

"He wanted me to look younger for his parents. More girly," Harper emphasized with a gesture of her hands. "I've never met them before. I guess he just wants to make sure that their first impression of me is good."

Alex shook her head a little. "Harper, you're already so good. Their impression of you shouldn't matter."

Her lips thinned to a line as she stepped into her low-heeled sandals. "Please don't start, Alex."

"But I want to," Alex whined. She was joking, of course, and Harper knew her to do this to lighten the mood. But then a slight pause followed, and Harper didn't know how to interpret that. She saw the look of gloom in Alex's features as she said quietly, "Seriously, I really want to, but I won't. Not until you ask me to."

Harper would've asked her what she meant by that if it wasn't for the sudden ringing of her door bell. She spared her a curious glance for a few seconds, and then gathered her shawl and purse, and proceeded to walk out. Alex followed closely behind. Inches from the door, Harper suddenly stopped and took a huge breath.

"Okay… let's do this," Harper declared as she reached for the door knob.

Behind her, Alex stared sadly at the beautifully twisted braids of the redhead as she recalled in her mind the conversation that she shared with her older brother, just hours previously, in regards to her closest, bestest friend in the entire world, of who she would do anything for.