Best Man's Bet: Who said men were perfect?
By Liz Levoy
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Best Man's Bet
Who said men were perfect?
Gina is the maid of honor and she is determined to make her best friend’s wedding run as smooth as possible. Everything runs according to plan and she’s confident she’ll be able to pull it off.
She meets Alex, the groom’s best man and the local womanizer. He has a reputation of sleeping with every bridesmaid at every wedding. Gina knows he won’t get into her panties and she’s not worried.
When Gina and Alex are forced to be together and their car breaks down, she gets to know a different side of him. She starts to think that he might not be so bad, that she would want to be with a man like him.
Until she finds out that he bet his friends that he can sleep with her. She is furious and things get out of hand. Gina loses her best friend and her faith in men.
Will a romantic gesture change Gina’s mind, or will she hate the one man that had made her sit up and take notice, forever?
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Best Man's Bet - Liz Levoy
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Chapter 1
Gina
Being the Maid of Honor let me do all sorts of things. I got to witness Rebecca’s bridal meltdowns, had the biggest input with the dress and dealt with her parents when she got sick of their drama. The most important part, of course, was the Bachelorette.
And I’d been looking forward to that since the moment Rebecca had asked me to fill that special role.
The day had finally arrived. Boy, did I have a party planned. I had put in a lot of my savings to make it all happen and Mr. and Mrs. Paul had funded whatever I couldn’t afford. I didn’t care how much Rebecca was starting to hate her parents for the conflict that happened about the wedding, when your parents were willing to pay for an epic Bachelorette party for you, they ranked near the top on my Cool-list.
I can’t believe this is happening!
Rebecca turned around in the mirror to see her back. We’d come into her Brooklyn apartment and surprised her with the fact that tonight was the night, the surprise Bachelorette was finally happening. We were one week away from the wedding. We had to celebrate her last night as a Miss in style.
Veronica and Mary dressed her up. A Bride-to-Be sash, a tiara, a badge that read I need a drink
. I had bought the dress she was wearing – nothing pink and embarrassing – a classy black dress that shouted sexy.
Where are we going?
she asked. Her blond hair hung in curls over her shoulders and she put on high heels that made her legs look like they went on forever.
It’s a surprise,
I said. God, you really are the most beautiful bride, ever.
Veronica handed Rebecca a flute of champagne and the bride giggled.
To the last week you’re Miss Rebecca Paul,
I said, raising my glass. This time next week you will officially be Mrs. Miller!
We downed our champagne in a way that suggested the night was going to be wild and we set out. Veronica and Mary finished getting dressed. We all wore skinny jeans, black boots and black blouses to look the same. Veronica’s red hair was pulled up into a bun. Mary had her hair in a ponytail. I wore mine down.
I had so much planned. Dinner and a show at Lucky Cheng’s, with lip-syncing and amazing aerial displays. Alcohol that flowed freely and just enough male attention to have fun but not compromise her relationship. Afterward, we went to the Ph-D Rooftop Lounge, a club where I’d organized a Bachelorette package that gave us VIP access and a bottle service.
The night was laced with alcohol and fun. We had Rebecca do a bunch of dares – getting the number of a stranger, finding a bald guy, locating a man with the same color underwear as her – and a lot of shots.
By the time we stumbled back into her apartment the sun was rising and I couldn’t remember how many glasses of alcohol I’d had. I walked to the couch and lay down. I was just going to close my eyes for a minute before I got dressed in pajamas.
When I opened my eyes again the sun was high in the sky. My head throbbed and I closed my eyes against the harsh light. I groped around for my phone, finding it wedged under a couch pillow.
Three in the afternoon.
Oh, no,
I said. I pushed myself up. My body protested, my stomach turned. The alcohol threatened to make a reappearance.
Becky!
I called. I was still wearing last night’s dress. My feet hurt from dancing on heels all night. Get up, Beck!
I walked into the bedroom. Rebecca was passed out on top of her covers in her underwear. She’d got further with undressing than I had. Her phone beeped next to her with a reminder that had gone off at two.
I silenced the phone and put a hand on her shoulder.
Beck,
I said, shaking her. We have to get up. It’s three.
I kept shaking her until she moved.
What?
she complained.
It’s three. We have to get up.
Rebecca lifted her head and peeked at me through squinted eyes.
What?
she asked again.
It’s three. We have to get ready.
Her mind turned and her eyes widened when she realized what I was saying.
It’s three?
She shot up. When she was upright she clawed at her head.
God, I hate you for feeding me so much alcohol.
I nodded. I’m being punished, trust me. I’m dying.
Where are Ronnie and Mary?
Rebecca asked. I looked around. They weren’t in the room. I walked back to the lounge. The other half of our bridal party were piled on the other couch, snoring.
I’ll get them up, you shower,
I said, walking to them.
Today was the rehearsal dinner and the makeup and hair trial before that, so we all looked on point. Our appointment at the salon was for four so we could be ready for the rehearsal dinner by eight.
We scrambled to get ready. By some miracle we all managed to shower and get dressed into something respectable in forty-five minutes and made it downtown only ten minutes late for our appointment. We were all clad in jeans and blouses and sunglasses to attempt to avoid the sting that came with a hangover and the sun.
Why did you have to organize the Bachelorette the night before the rehearsal dinner?
Rebecca asked when we were getting shampooed.
It was the only night all four of us were available. I had to talk to Tyler to figure out when I could surprise you. It’s not my problem you’re always so busy.
I have a wedding to plan,
Rebecca said.
I don’t think I’m ever going to drink again,
Veronica said from the makeup station. I think this hangover is going to last the whole week.
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