Sweet Addiction
One
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Joey? I need you!” I’m flustered and running late as usual, frantically trying to zip up my new black strapless dress and failing miserably. “Damn it, Joey.”
Throwing my hands in the air in frustration, I step into my favorite black pumps and run downstairs into the bakery, my bare back completely exposed. Joey, my assistant and dear friend, is leaning his tall perfectly tailored suited frame against the doorway and watching me amusingly. A winning smile spreads across his face and if I wasn’t so rightly irritated, I would have stopped to appreciate just how handsome he looks.
“What the fuck? Can you zip me up please so we can go? The cake should have been delivered over an hour ago.”
He pushes off the wall and moves towards me, his expression softening. “No, dear, it’s already been delivered.”
My back straightens as the cold metal of the zipper slides up my spine. “What? No it hasn’t.”
“Yes, it has.” His hands grip my shoulders and spin me. “I dropped it off myself because I knew you would be freaking out up there getting ready and making us late.”
“Really?” I ask, staring up at him unconvinced.
He nods. “Really, cupcake.”
Smiling and reaching up, I kiss him quickly on his freshly shaven jaw. “You’re the best, you know that right?”
“I know.” His eyes run down my body and I feel my cheeks heat up. “You look amazing, Dylan. Seriously,” he wiggles his brows at me, “if tits did anything for me…”
I hold up my hand to stop him, but teasingly mold my breasts and plump them up. “Yeah? They do look fantastic right now don’t they?” He smiles down at me; his one dimple sucked in tightly.
“You ready for this?” he asks as he brushes my hair off my shoulder. “We can still back out. I’m all for ditching this shit and going bar hopping instead.” His brow arches as he searches my face, waiting for my response.
I exhale forcefully and grab his arm, leading him towards the door. “No, we can’t ditch. Juls will be pissed if we don’t show up. Besides---,” we halt at the door and I grip his massive shoulders, “---I thought you wanted to do bad things with men we’ll never see again?” Slutty wedding sex awaits and I am more than ready to experience it.
His eyes quickly light up with mischief. There’s the naughty Joey I know and love. “Oh fuck yes. Let’s do this, cupcake.”
**
Fayette Street is buzzing with people, all wandering in and out of shops on this beautiful June day. I lock up and spin around, seeing Joey stomping his foot irritatingly in the direction of our transportation.
“Seriously, Dylan? Do we have to take the van? This suit is way too nice for that thing and you know what kind of cars those rich bitches will be rolling up in.” He motions to his outfit with a sweeping hand as I walk towards the driver’s side.
“I’m sorry, but do you have another suggestion? Your car is in the shop and this is my only mode of transportation at the moment.” I open the door and step in, standing on the ledge and looking over the roof at his scrunched up face. “And be nice to Sam. He’s been through a lot lately.”
He lets out an exhausted breath. “If I ruin this nice suit… and please explain to me why you named this stupid thing. Who names their delivery van?” I ignore his last comment and start it up, glaring at him as he climbs in to ward off any further insults.
“Don’t make me put you in the back,” I spat as I pull away from the curb towards an evening of inevitable awkwardness.
**
“Holy shit. This place is fantastic!” Joey shrieks as I pull onto the driveway leading up to Whitmore Mansion, following a long line of expensive vehicles. I wince and rub the steering wheel, preparing Sam for the looks he will undoubtedly receive. “Oh for Christ’s sake. See. I fucking told you we would stand out like idiots. Do you realize we’re sandwiched between a Mercedes and Lamborghini. A fucking Lamborghini.” I swallow loudly. Joey’s right. My delivery van which is adorned with swirls of cupcakes and icing splashes on both sides is completely out of place here. I’m fairly certain we will be the only non-luxury vehicle in the parking lot. My ringtone startles me and I quickly pull it out of my clutch, hitting the speaker phone button.
“Hey, Juls.”
“Are you here yet? I’m dying to introduce you to Ian and his entourage of insanely hot friends. HEY. What are you doing? You should be rounding up the groomsmen. Jesus, do I have to do everything around here?” I giggle at my best friend as we slowly inch closer to the parking attendants. She’s usually very calm and collected, until it’s close to show time.