3 - More wrong Numbers

JO

"Lauren, breathe! It's all gonna be okay," I say in a soothing voice as I gently stroke the woman's back who is currently a sobbing mess. The paper bag she pants into makes a loud scrunching noise with her every intake and exhale of breath. "Amy will be here any minute; then we'll know for sure," I add.

Lauren rocks back and forth, nodding and trying hard to even her breathing. "Shit, shit, shit," she mutters again and again.

"Hey, even if your suspicion is confirmed, it's not the end of the world," I try to calm her once more, but it only earns me an eye-roll.

Lauren takes a few more deep breaths before she removes the paper bag from her mouth. She rubs her sweaty forehead with her palm as she leans back into the comfy cushions of her couch. "Goodness," she says with one last deep sigh. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Jo."

I chuckle. "It's okay. I've seen much worse, and over less, too. Brides-to-be put themselves under a lot of pressure sometimes."

Lauren buries her face in her hands and groans, but her head jolts up at the knock on the door. I keep my fingers crossed that the visitor is her best friend, Amy, who we are waiting for to put Lauren out of her misery.

With a squeal, Lauren rushes to the door and tears it open. "Damn, Amy!" she mewls. "Did you have to bring your cute as fuck baby to this?"

"Hey!" Amy scolds as she walks in. "I couldn't leave him with Ben. Joshua needs access to my boobs twenty-four-seven." She glares at Lauren before she shakes her head with a chuckle and pulls her into a careful side-hug so they don't crush the tiny bundle that's strapped to Amy's chest in a baby carrier.

"I'm sorry," Lauren says with a frown. "I'm just a little on edge right now."

"I know." Amy hands her the bag she brought. "Now take that damn pregnancy test and stop whining."

Lauren looks at the contents of the bag with a heavy sigh. She studies it with a growing frown on her forehead.

"Do you want to wait until Henry gets here?" I ask about her fiancé, puzzled by her sudden hesitation. I thought once she had the test, she'd pee on that stick right away.

"No," she murmurs. "I need to know." She presses the test to her chest and disappears into the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

Amy carefully sits down on the spot on the couch that Lauren just vacated. She lets out a long breath as she gently strokes her baby's head. "Hey, Jo," she says with a warm smile. "How are you? That must have been a delightful morning."

I chuckle. "It was okay. It's my job."

"To handle bridezillas?" Amy snickers. "I admire your patience and calm."

I shrug my shoulder with a laugh. "That's part of being a wedding planner. I love my job—all of it. Including handling a minor freak-out."

"Minor?" She bites her lips. "That sounded rather major when she called to tell me to get my ass over here right this second and bring a pregnancy test."

I wave my hand. "Believe me, that's nothing. But seriously, thanks for coming to the rescue."

"She's my best friend; of course I would help. I was gonna come over anyway, so I didn't mind the quick stop at the pharmacy."

With a grateful smile, I get up and walk over to the open-plan kitchen to get Amy a drink of water. I already know my way around Lauren and her fiancé's penthouse in Upper West Side. It's a beautiful place with an elegant yet warm interior. When I first walked into the huge room with the living and dining area and the modern kitchen, I felt comfortable at once.

I've spent a lot of time here since Lauren hired me two weeks ago. For the past fourteen days, we've gotten to know each other so I can plan the perfect wedding for her and Henry.

Lauren and I got along great from the very first minute. She reminds me a lot of my best friend. Just like Mads, Lauren has no filter—much to her uptight father-in-law's chagrin. Henry's dad is CEO of a hugely successful company, and in his old-fashioned opinion, any daughter-in-law should be more upper class. Being a receptionist, Lauren doesn't fit into the picture, but neither Lauren nor Henry give a damn.

So here I am, organizing their big day because as I see it, they couldn't be more perfect for each other.

I grab a glass from the cupboard and some water from the fridge. Amy accepts the drink with an appreciative sigh. "Thanks, Jo."

"Where did you leave Bella this morning?" I ask about her almost two-year-old daughter as I sit back down on the couch.

"She's with Ben. He took a couple of days off work because the little guy kept me up for three nights straight. So after we sort out everything here, I'm going back home for a nice, long nap."

I grimace. "Gosh, I can't imagine what it must be like, taking care of a newborn and a toddler. I sometimes babysit my niece and nephew, and even though I love them very much, I'm glad when I can leave."

"Yeah." Amy chuckles, and the vibrations of her chest make her baby stir. She plants a soothing kiss on her son's head, and he continues sleeping blissfully. "It is hard sometimes," she goes on. "But it's so rewarding too. Josh is only three weeks old; he still needs to acclimate," she adds with a wink. "It will–"

Amy pauses, and we both turn around to face Lauren, who strides up to us and sinks down onto the armchair opposite us with a deep sigh. I can't interpret her expression, and neither can her best friend, judging from the look she gives Lauren. With wide eyes, Amy waves her hand in a go-on motion. "So?"

Lauren looks back and forth between us before she takes a deep breath. "Negative," she finally says on a long exhale. "I'm not pregnant." She wipes her forehead and lets out a shaky laugh.

"Come on," Amy remarks. "Even if you were pregnant, you could still get married."

Lauren snorts. "No way! We would have had to postpone the wedding."

"Hey, I was pregnant when Ben and I got married." Amy feigns a glare at her friend, and I watch the two of them bicker with an amused smile. These girls have a special relationship, and it's been obvious to me from the start how much they mean to each other.

Lauren rolls her eyes. "Yeah, like a week. You weren't showing. I would have a huge belly by August. But it's okay, the test was negative. So we can all calm the fuck down." She relaxes into the armchair and closes her eyes, letting out another long, slow breath.

I suppress a chuckle, refraining from stating the obvious—she was the only one who was freaking out.

For a few moments, we sit in comfortable silence, letting the news sink in, until we hear a key turn in the lock. Lauren flinches and Amy and I turn to the door. A second later, Henry hurries inside and looks at us with furrowed brows. "What happened? Why did I have to rush home?"

Lauren jumps up, facing Henry. She lifts her finger and glares at him. "You! No more sex until the wedding, Mister!" she growls.

While Amy cracks up, Henry's jaw drops, and his look of concern changes to utmost confusion. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Amy and I curiously watch their exchange—how Henry's eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow more and more while Lauren recounts her morning. She flaps her hands and paces up and down while telling Henry all about her realization that she was late and feeling nauseous, worries forming in her mind that they hadn't been careful.

"Okay, stop," Henry says firmly, grabbing Lauren's arms and pulling her into his chest. He wraps her up in a loving embrace, and seeing Lauren melt into him with a small sigh makes me feel all fuzzy. I don't know what it is about those two, but they radiate so much love when they're together that it warms up my insides. Lauren buries her face in the crook of Henry's neck so I can't see it, but I'm sure there's a huge smile on her lips.

"Don't worry," Lauren mumbles. "I just took a pregnancy test and it's negative."

Henry chuckles. "Oh, Sweets." He buries his nose in her hair and murmurs, "I don't know why you thought that would worry me. But I presume it's been a stressful morning for you?"

Henry and Lauren continue talking in a low voice, and I get up and walk over to the dining table where I left my folder. Now that we sorted out the pregnancy question, it's time to go over today's to-do list.

"Hey, Lauren," I cautiously interrupt their moment after looking over my notes. "Have you talked to the guy from the printing company about the design of the place cards and the menus?"

Lauren leaves a lingering kiss on Henry's lips before she joins me at the dining table. "Um, yes. I gave him your email address. He said he'd sent a preview over by the end of this week." She furrows her brows and taps her chin with her finger. "No, wait! He said he'd be on vacation, so we should talk to his colleague, Roger."

"Great. Can you give me his number? I'd like to check and see if everything goes according to plan."

"Sure. I have it written down here somewhere." She sprints over to the kitchen isle, where she dropped a stack of notes earlier. She looks through them until she finds a small piece of paper. She studies it for a moment, biting the inside of her cheeks. "I think this is it."

"Thanks." I take the note from her and grab my phone, ready to make the call, but I wait when Henry clears his throat.

"Well, now that I'm here, how about I treat you ladies to lunch?" he offers.

Lauren beams at him. "Sounds like a plan. Amy, Jo? We can talk over more wedding stuff while we eat." She looks at her best friend and me with raised eyebrows and a happy smile.

Amy nods, and I agree as well. How could I refuse when this is what my client wants? And it's 12.30 PM already—way too long since I've had breakfast.

"Let me just make this phone call." I hold up the note before I look at it, dialing the number while the others get ready to leave. Once I punched in the digits, I press the phone to my ear. A small sigh escapes my lips when the call goes to voicemail.

"Hi! I'm sorry you missed me. Leave a message and I'll get back to you," a deep voice greets me—a voice that causes a slight tingling to spread through my body. Damn, have I gone crazy? A sense of familiarity washes over me, bringing back memories that I banished from my mind after a week of moping and cursing the guy who had the nerve to fake number me. This must have hit me harder than I thought when I start imagining his voice now.

"Hi, um," I stammer after the beep. I shake my head to snap out of whatever state I'm in. "This is Amelia Hamilton. Your colleague said to call you concerning the place cards and menus. Could you call me back? That'd be great. Thanks."

I hang up with a nervous laugh and groan once I realize I didn't even state what place cards and menus. Ah, what the heck, he'll probably call back anyway.

"Amelia?"

I lift my gaze and meet Amy's confused stare with a chuckle. "Yeah, that's my middle name; I use that for business. For my friends, I'm Jo."

"Okay," Lauren says. "Are you ready?"

With a nod, I gather my things and follow everyone outside. Time to distract my thoughts. I won't waste any more time reminiscing about some guy.

---

Later that day, I walk into my apartment to get ready for my weekly Pilates class with Mads. I enter the kitchen and throw my purse on the counter. I dig for my phone, and once I retrieve it from the mess in my bag, I get a bottle of water from the fridge and sit down at my small kitchen table.

Before I change into my workout gear, I need to check my emails. After an extended lunch, I made an appointment for Lauren's next dress fitting and met with a potential new client, so I didn't have any time yet to do that.

Great, Roger emailed, so I don't have to wait for his call back. I open the pdf-file and smile when I see the design for the place cards. Yes, Lauren will love these. Henry will too, probably, but let's be honest, it's not his opinion that matters.

I will have a closer look at it once I'm back home tonight, though, because after glancing at my watch, I realize I'm running late. I jump up and dart to my bedroom, where I change. I grab my gym bag and another bottle of water. When I put my shoes on, my phone beeps, and when I'm about to walk out the door, I check who texted. The words I read make me stop in my tracks. It's a message from Roger's supposed number.

'I'm sorry, but you got the wrong number.'

I squint at my phone. Hm, that's weird. I guess I will have to ask Lauren whose number she accidentally gave me.

With a shake of my head, I stow away my phone and hurry out of my apartment, ready for some torture at the gym.