Shine Not Burn(38)

She shook her head in disappointment. “No. You are a girl who’s lost her way. A snake in the grass hissing a lot of new dirty words she learned from another snake in the grass.” She snorted in disgust. “That Bradley, he is the King Cobra of snakes.” She stood up and turned her back on me to walk to the door. Just before she left my office, she blasted me with her parting shots. “Maybe before you say, ‘I do’ to the King Cobra, you should ask yourself these questions: why did all your friends - all those good girls - abandon you? Why are you more alone now than you’ve ever been before? Shouldn’t you be full of joy and sharing that joy with others when you’re about to be married, instead of making up a guest list full of strangers?” She shook her head. “Your marriage is going to be more like a funeral, and I for one am not going to be a part of it.”

The door shut behind her, and I stood there in the middle of my office with tears coursing down my cheeks. I hadn’t wanted to listen to any of that garbage. I’d just wanted to know why she was doing such a horrible job as my assistant and why she’d stopped being my friend. Instead I’d gotten a pile of shit dumped on my head and my heart cracked in two.

I shoved the chairs back into position, ignoring the fact that the legs weren’t put back in the indentations of the carpet they always rested in. Making my way around the desk, I shook my head in disgust. Ruby was so full of shit. Bradley had done nothing but advance my career and my stature at the firm. We joined the country club together and played tennis every weekend with other couples. We ate out all the time and even talked about moving in together before the wedding. I’d held off for some stupid reason, but now I couldn’t remember why. Bradley was the only one who got my lifeplan and was totally on board with it. He’s just like me: organized, driven, smart. We both know what we want and we’re not afraid to go after it. Too bad for the rest of the world. If they don’t understand the value of planning and drive, screw them. I didn’t need anyone or anything but Bradley and the firm.

I ignored the physical pains that sliced through my chest at that thought.

The ring of my phone told me Ruby was calling in. I leaned over to the far corner of my desk, grabbing the handset, fully expecting to hear her apology. I planned to be gracious and act like the things she said hadn’t cut me to the bone. Then we could go on as before, but with her doing a better job. A tight smile took up residence on my face.

“Yes?” I said, cold pride filling my voice.

“Line three is for you. Someone from the courthouse.”

“Who is it, Ruby?” I asked, instantly irritated. She had a hell of a lot of nerve giving me one of her bullshit call transfers after our little discussion. She knew at a bare minimum I needed a name, a department, and case file reference. Jesus, what is her damn problem?

Ruby’s voice was so calm, so casual, it was as if we hadn’t just had a come-to-Jesus meeting two minutes before. “I don’t know who it is,” she said. “Someone from the marriage license division.”

“Oh.” I frowned, the wind going completely out of my sails. “Why would they be calling me now? My appointment to pick up the license isn’t until later this week. They never do things that fast or ahead of time.”

Ruby just breathed in her handset.

“Put them through,” I said, giving up on having a civil conversation with her.

I waited for the call to connect, my mind racing with questions. Bradley was in charge of arranging the catering, and I was in charge of the legalities and the band. Our guest list was mostly our top-value clients and fellow employees, so that meant there could be no skimping and no mistakes. If I didn’t get that license in time, we’d be totally screwed. Nothing could be rescheduled without losing a lot of money and causing a lot of headaches.

The connection clicked through. “Hello, this is Andy Marks. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Ms. Marks, this is Latisha. You the one who applied for a marriage license? Annnnndrea … uh … Marks. Sorry, I can’t really read your writing. You really should write neater on these forms.”

I ignored her scolding. Shuh, right. As if some minimum wage clerk down at the courthouse is going to give me lessons in filling out forms. Raise your hand if you went to law school. “Yes, that’s correct. That’s me.”

“And your middle name is Lynn and your social security number is 078-05-1120?”

“Yes, that’s also correct. Is there a problem?”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m calling. There’s a question on the form you’ve answered incorrectly, so I need you to come back and do another form and include your divorce decree with it. I can’t process it until it’s complete, and without that decree, it won’t work. The system won’t even accept it, so I’m not even going to try. And don’t ask me to change it for you, because that’s not how it works.”