Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 16

"Olivia..." Eleanor chimes, looking haphazardly everywhere on the small cart that was carrying their bags. "Do you see my small bag? I don't see it anywhere..."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she just kept talking on the phone, disregarding me completely. "No, we will be gone for a week and a half -- how hard is it for you to find a stupid file? I know you're new, but it's not rocket science," she sighed. "Look under V -- for Vogue," she rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder condescendingly at me as I struggled with my bag plus two of hers.

"Here, let me help you..." Harry interjected, grabbing the two bags of Eleanor's from my hands. He stepped back after launching them over his shoulders and stood next to me, both of us just staring at his fiancé like puppy dogs awaiting their next treat.

He lowered his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Olivia -- I really tried to..."

I interrupted him. "It's fine, Harry."

It's true. He really had tried, which was somewhat of a shock to me. He offered to bring Hannah in my place, sent her an elaborate bouquet of flowers, and had even asked both of their moms to plea to her weaknesses. And if that weren't enough, in a harrowing last ditch bout of total masculinity, he had thrown a tantrum of epic proportions, worse than any tantrum from any man I had ever seen, one that even rivaled Eleanor; but then again, he did learn from the best.

The effort was so endearing that I couldn't even really be mad at him anymore. All I could do was accept that there was not a single ounce of this man that was capable of convincing Eleanor to do anything. Perhaps that was the most tragic.

Feeling tired, I switched my own tote bag to my now free shoulder while we waited, listening to Eleanor whine on the phone in the background.

"Will you two hurry up? We're going to be late!" she squeals, hanging up her phone and sliding it into her purse.

Harry rolled his eyes at me. "Honey, it's a private flight. It's not like they're going to leave without us..."

Eleanor just glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest in a menacing way.

Even watching the two of them, I can't help but marvel at just how beautiful they both were. Her rosy cheeks matched her designer peach sweater, which was contrasted by her dark grey pencil skirt and her pink five inch heels. She would never stop looking like a model, no matter how bad her personality was. And Harry, he looked like he fit right next to her in his sweater and tight black pants. It just made me feel completely underdressed in my hoodie and sweats, which I thought everyone wore to the airport, especially for a flight over ten hours.

"We have a scheduled flight time, Harold..." she scolded, all of us moving further towards the pickup area at the hangar.

"The guy isn't even here yet," he mumbles, stopping at where we were apparently supposed to be. He yawned tiredly before discreetly adjusting himself in his tight pants. I couldn't help but stare a little at his bulge, the exhaustion weakening my common sense.

"Quit that," she hisses, slapping his hand away. "I swear, sometimes you're like a twelve year old who can't stop touching himself."

"If you'd do it more often, I wouldn't have to," he grumbled.

"Maybe if you acted like an adult more than half the time, I would want to..."

Wow, that was low, even for Eleanor. Wasn't this supposed to be Christmas vacation? Before their wedding? They haven't even had a honeymoon phase, have they? So much for wedded bliss.