There was definitely a shift in the air between them. They had gotten along famously before, but now it was even better. There was something honest and real about their relationship – it was a true friendship at this point.
The limo ride to the bakery in Hoboken was full of a fast and furious lightning round of get to know you. They discussed everything from their favorite foods to which one of them snored in their sleep. Fries with ketchup for him, fries with ranch for her. He liked to watch TV, she liked movies. Crème Brule for him, Tiramisu for her. Both loved dogs, didn’t hate cats.
The couple pulled up right behind Winnie and Phillip, who were just arriving. When Nick stepped out of the car, he offered his hand to help Cori out as they laughed about something silly, almost forgetting where they were or who they were meeting. Pinched smiles greeted them as Nick grabbed Cori’s hand and planted a kiss on her lips before he led her in their direction, each still laughing.
“Well, if it isn’t the super happy couple,” Winnie greeted, her pitchy tone already hitting that nerve of Cori’s that it often did.
“And the almost newlyweds. Yay,” Cori fired back with plenty of fake enthusiasm.
“So glad you two could make it. It isn’t every day that you can get in for a tasting at such a highly sought-after bakery. We’ve had this scheduled for nearly two years.”
“Huh. Really? I got us in just the other day,” Nick mentioned with surprise. “Not for a tasting. We don’t need one. We eat Bob’s cakes all of the time.”
“Bob? Who is Bob?” Winnie’s tone was as sour as her expression.
“Bob,” Nick said with confidence, “The owner, Bob? Surely, you know him? Anyway, we were golfing the other day…”
“Golf? You were golfing with…the owner,” Winnie interrupted, perhaps regretting the invite now.
“Sure. We go way back, golf all the time. Anyway, he said to let him know the date, and he’d make our cake personally,” Nick smiled.
“Yeah,” Cori said, hearing this for the first time herself. “Bob is…great.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Nick squeezed Cori’s hand in a silent apology.
“Hmmm, sounds like it,” Winnie spat. “Should we go in? Some of us do need to try the cake.”
The cake coordinator brought platter after platter of different samples of cake, fillings, and frostings. Every combination imaginable was presented, and Winnie and Phillip couldn’t agree on a single one.
The coordinator suggested they each pick their favorite and do half of the cake in each, to which Winnie was appalled, given Phillips favorite flavor combination. Her second suggestion was to pick one flavor combination, and add a cupcake buffet with several different combinations for guests to choose from – cupcakes offended Winnie.
Meanwhile, Nick and Cori were enjoying the samples and picked their fake wedding cake flavors in the first round of samples, agreeing on the combinations without even trying to convince each other of anything. Winnie also found that offensive. Nick and Cori found Winnie’s offense – offensive – but continued to play the part. It came easy to them, too easy.
When the coordinator ventured back to the kitchen to pull together more samples and combinations, attempting to find something that would please their fussy pallets, Winnie went on about how they were not able to book New York’s most prestigious venue, Le Salle De Bal – which translates to The Ballroom. Like everything else she wanted, it was booked several years out, and no amount of money, or Wednesday night wedding compromise, would change that.
It was a stunningly restored building with old-world charm that consisted of tall columns and chandeliers in every room. There were gold statues and retrofitted dancing fountains throughout. It was once a museum that lost its funding, and now, the location for every charity fundraiser, wedding, expensive art tour, or special event to New York’s richest.
When Nick came back inside from making a business call, practically skipping, it was Phillip’s turn to be a dick. “What has you giggling, Blackthorne? Jesus, the only thing missing is piggy tales and a lollipop.”
“I have great news, Cori,” Nick said, ready to stick it to Winnie and knock the wind from Phillip’s cocky sail. He hadn’t taken a business call really; he placed a call to a friend after Winnie politely insulted Cori’s lack of culture when she mentioned she had only heard of Le Salle De Bal but had not been there. She didn’t think Nick was listening, but he was. It was Phillip he was ignoring. That friend happened to own Le Salle De Bal.
“Oh, what’s that?” Picking up on his enthusiasm, she was eager to see what he was up to now. They were getting too good at reading each other.
“Your dream wedding, sweetheart. You’re getting it. Le Salle De Bal. It’s ours if you want it.”
“Le Salle De Bal? My dream…wedding? How did you…” she couldn’t find the words. How the hell did he keep doing this?
“I know the owner, and…”
Cori laughed, “Of course, you do. That’s fantastic. That just leaves…flowers.”
“Branch and Magnolia got back to me – I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. They want to know what color peonies you would like.”
Winnie’s jaw dropped. “You booked Branch and Magnolia? Are you serious? How on earth…and Le Salle De Bal?”
“Just calling in favors. It really goes a long way when you help others out and do well for your community. Clean business – it pays off. Always have a favor to call on,” he said with a wink for Winnie. It was his own way undercutting her after the jab she took at Cori. It was a well-known fact that both the Chesterfields and Chancellors were dirty backstabbers in the business community. They bulldozed their way to their fortunes, and it left them all alone on their tiny little islands. Nobody wanted to work with them unless they absolutely had to – they really only had each other.
“Wow. Looks like Cori is getting absolutely everything she wants – Manhattan’s princess. I heard about Gwendolyn booking the dress too; that’s…amazing, considering she doesn’t do custom work anymore.”
“Oh, she doesn’t,” Cori chimed, “She is an old friend of Nick’s family – another one of those favors. What did she say, honey? I insist on doing little Nickie’s wedding so I can die a happy Godmother. She’s great.”
“Godmother, really? How wonderful for you,” Winnie sneered. “Must be nice to have all of those connections at your disposal, Cori. It’s like a fairytale – poor, orphan farm girl marries a rich big-city prince. You’re just a modern-day Cinderella, aren’t you? All that’s missing is your glass slippers!”
When Phillip chuckled at Winnie’s insult, it fueled her fury and the claws came out. “I’m surprised you still work – I mean, surely you have his credit card in your wallet by now, given what you’re wearing – go you.”
Winnie took a sip of her drink like she’d tossed a compliment that deserved a big fat thank you. Her posture straightened, and smarmy grin tightened in challenge, daring Cori and Nick to fire back. Just when Nick went in for the jugular, Cori stopped him.
“Wow, look at the time,” she said, looking at her new expensive watch. “We have to go.”
“We do?” he questioned, standing alongside her.
“Yes…pillow shopping, remember?” she asked of Nick before turning her attention back to Winnie and Phillip. “His place is such a bachelor pad – mancave really – that’s what they call it.”
“Right,” Nick nodded, “pillows…for the mancave.”
Wrapping her arms around Nicks waist and looking up into his steely blue eyes, she said in the dreamiest annoying voice she could muster, “We’re moving in together.”
Nicks eyes brightened and his excitement plastered across his face when he realized what she was saying. “We are. That’s right.”
“Yep,” she said, turning back to the jaw dropped couple still unable to pick a cake flavor, “Tonight. Just need some…pillows. Farm girl to Manhattan Penthouse; I mean, is this my life? I have to pinch myself these days.”
Now to really lay it on, Nick tossed in the final coat of sickening sweet love story, “No, it’s our life, sweetheart.”
His kiss wasn’t intended to be so sultry, but it was, and it was perfect. So much so, Cori couldn’t feel her legs. “Let’s go, my prince.”
Twirling her around him, in the direction of the door, he replied, “After you, Cinderella.”
Both fell into the waiting limo, laughing. “Did we really just do that? We’re acting like children!” Cori laughed.
“Welcome to New York’s elite brat pack. That’s how they all act – one up each other, then toss a friendly insult.”
“I’m really sorry I sprung that on you like that. She is just so…”
“Mean, evil, calculated, conniving…”
“And then some.”
Dropping to a more serious tone, he asked, “Are you really moving in?”
“I sort of have to after that, don’t you think? I can have James bring a bag. He’ll know what to bring; he’s James…and of course Bronco. I’m going to be watching her,” she laughed.
“Let’s go get pillows, and dinner and go home!” Nick was going to need a shower after that dirty exchange with Winnie and Phillip – more so, though, at the thought of having Cori in his home, sleeping in his bed.