Chapter Two: Down to Brass Taxes
We walked up two flights of creaking, wooden stairs, with the bridesmaids leading the way and the Bride and I tagging a little behind.
I meant to say something to her while we were climbing the stairs – anything, really, just to break the ice – but my mouth felt cemented shut. It might have been for the best, too, because the Bride appeared to be putting a great deal of her concentration into the simple act of climbing the stairs. I began to wonder how much champagne she’d already drunk that night.
Once we were inside their room, the bridesmaids opened another bottle of bubbles. Soon after, Hannah pulled me aside. The bridesmaids watched the two of us walk out onto the balcony together, their eyes wide with anticipation.
After she closed the balcony-door behind us, Hannah asked me: “So, what do you think of the bride?”, in a tone of voice that made me think she was attempting to stall.
I glanced over my shoulder, through the glass-door. The Bride was sitting on the edge of the bed now, holding an untouched flute of champagne. “She’s a cutie”, I said, turning back around. “Seems like a quiet drunk, though. First time married?”
Hannah nodded. “She has no idea what she is getting into.” Then, she reached into her pocket for a pack of cigarettes. I saw no wedding-ring on her fingers.
“And you?”, I asked. “Ever married?”
“Yeah”, she replied. “But that’s not why I’m worried about her.” Hannah lit her cigarette. “I fucked my marriage up in ways she’d never be capable of.”
For a moment, the two of us stood against the balcony’s railing in silence, watching the city lights twinkle over the surface of the lake. Then, Hannah offered me a puff of her cigarette.
I took it, then asked: “Why are you so worried about her then? If I may ask.” I inhaled a puff from Hannah’s cigarette, waiting for her to reply, but she didn’t. “I’m the last person to proselytize marriage, but it does work for some people.” As I was reaching out my hand to give her back the cigarette, Hannah reached into her pack of smokes and lit another. "I don't know", I continued, just trying to fill the dead air. "I try to not be cynical, you know?"
Inhaling, Hannah asked: “Can we cut to brass tax?”
“Sure”, I replied, feeling taken aback. I returned the cigarette to my lips.
“Three-hundred dollars. One-fifty now, one-fifty afterwards.” Hannah inhaled again, before continuing: “You’ll be our entertainment. Until midnight, then you're free to leave.”
“That’s a lot of money for something I would have done for free.”
“The money isn’t for your services, it’s for your confidentiality. Also, it’s not my money, it’s the Groom’s.”
“Generous of him”, I said, not knowing how to reply to that.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Some man.”
I looked over my shoulder again. The Bride was still sitting on the edge of the bed, but she seemed much more animated now. The bridesmaids were gathered around her, sitting on the floor and sipping champagne. “How long have you known the Bride”, I asked Hannah.
“Forever.” Her face had taken on a gloomy, contemplative expression.
“You are paying for my confidentiality, right?”, I asked. She nodded. “So why the mystery?”
Hannah extinguished her cigarette against the railing, then levelled her eyes toward me. In a whisper, she said: “I fucked him. The Groom.”
“Ah”, I breathed, feeling like I'd been gut-punched with a pillow. “How did that happen?”
“Two months back, I flew into the city for the weekend. The plan was to meet my sister for dinner–”
I raised my eye-brows to hitherto overseen heights. “–She’s your sister? The Bride?”
Hannah nodded. “Yeah. She called me and I answered my phone from the taxi. I wasn’t far from the restaurant were I was meant to meet her and he fiancé. The idea was to get to know him before the wedding, right, so it wouldn’t feel awkward. Figured she was just calling to check to see if I was on my way, to ask if I was running late like usual, but she told me she had to cancel. I was shocked, it’s not really like her. At all. She told me that I could meet her at their new house in about half hour and that she’d pay for my taxi fare. Like I cared about that, but anyway…”
I finished my cigarette, then looked at Hannah, encouraging her to continue. She looked away from me and gazed out over the dark lake, looking gloomy and contemplative again. Behind us, I heard the muted sound of the bridesmaids giggling.
Hannah sighed, then said: “I decided to get a drink at the restaurant’s bar first, before heading over to my sister’s house. I’m not a fan of flying and well, anyway… I met a man. He was charming and forth-coming. I thought, since my sister ditched me, why not do the same?” Hannah opened her pack of smokes again, then seemed to reconsider. After a moment of silence, she continued: “I had no idea who he was until I went to their house the next day. Honestly… I didn’t. I had no idea…”
I looked at her again, suddenly realizing what Hannah was telling me. “He cheated on her?” I glanced over my shoulder, into the hotel-room. “You–”
“–I did nothing!”, Hannah spat out. “I had no idea!”
“Did he know?”, I asked, trying to grapple with the story I was being told.
“I don’t know. Maybe." Hannah took a deep breath. "I think so, yeah. He definitely said nothing to her about it.”
I moved my hand along the balcony’s railing and let it rest on-top of her’s. Hannah flinched away from my touch momentarily, then returned her hand to the railing, slipping it under mine.
“What is this all about?”, I asked. “Brass tax.”
“She can’t marry him. She has so much invested in this.” Hannah closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, they were watery. “The prick even told her he saved himself for marriage. Can you believe that? Fucking sack of shit, God-damn…” Hannah closed her eyes again, anger turning her features red.
“Damn”, I echoed, lost for words again.
That’s when Hannah gave me the brass tax.
Her plan was to plant a seed in her sister’s head. Hannah told me she didn’t think her sister would ever run away from the alter, no matter what – she simply had too much emotionally invested in it. But maybe, Hannah said, if she’d be able to plant a seed of doubt in her sister’s head tonight, there’d be a chance she might come to her senses a few months or years down the line. That was the plan, anyway: plant a seed of doubt…
To Be Continued…
An Afterword
If you have any spelling or grammar corrections you'd like to make, I'd be delighted to hear them. All feedback is greatly appreciated.
Take care of each other. And thank you for reading.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/3sv4n6/a_conspiracy_amongst_bridesmaids_2_mffff
"Brass tacks" not "tax".
Cheers!
part3?
On its way. Thanks for waiting! :)
> wasn’t far from the restaurant were I was meant to meet her and he fiancé. her fiancé? the fiancé? Also: > brass tax Couldn’t tell if this shift in spelling were a deliberate play on words or not… (maybe you fixed one and not the other?)