Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 68

"The extra invitations? No I have no idea where those are."

He glances around sullenly, the VIP room cramped with Eleanor's friends' boyfriends and husbands; his friends now. Scantily clad waitresses bring around trays of tequila shots brushing past topless girls in nothing but g-strings who dance and gyrate for the men in the room, and he's sure that all of this would be much more glamorous if he had a better buzz going. He presses the phone harder to his ear, barely able to hear Eleanor over the music pulsing in the background, the laughter and the clinking of glasses.

"Well, did you check the office?" he questions, pinching the bridge of his nose, wincing as she screeches at him through the line that of course she had and that she wasn't stupid.

He's lost track of the amount of times she's called. He remembers talking to her as the groomsmen had started to arrive, Rajiv and Paul bringing Cuban Cigars that make him gag, and Cristiano bestowing upon him a bottle of Scotch that probably cost as much as his parent's house. Evan didn't have a gift, but had promised to buy his first lap dance, adding a wink at the end that told Harry the stripper would be doing more than just dancing for him.

She had phoned again in the limo when they hit the first bar, and then several more times at each location, giving him just enough time to have a few drinks and start to have fun before she tightened the leash. He sneers, wishing that Nick hadn't made that little observation known to him, but Nick isn't in any state to be watching what he says.

"I'm sorry I can't help you, baby," Harry says, hoping the listlessness in his voice passes as sorrow at wishing he can't do more to help her. "Yeah, I'm having a great time," he mumbles, watching as Nick throws his arms in the air, doing some kind of weird version of the Macarena, making one of the waitresses laugh as she offers him another drink. "I'll see you tomorrow...bye."

Nick stumbles over, nearly knocking over the chair in the process of sitting down and grins hazily at his best friend. "Do I know how to throw a fuckin' party or WHAT?"

Harry laughs, but it feels hollow. "Yeah, man this is awesome." He takes a small sip of his drink, eyeing his phone on the table.

"The warden call again?" Nick asks, eyeing him over the rim of his beer bottle, and Harry rolls his eyes, leaning back sullenly in his chair. "What!" Nick asks and Harry glares at him.

"You don't have to call her that," Harry says, less out of defense for Eleanor and more out of embarrassment for himself. "She's just checking on me."

"She's checked on you a BILLION times dude. Normal chicks don't do that," Nick exclaims, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at one of the strippers dancing in front of Paul. "Isn't that guy married?"

Harry glances over, watching as Paul reaches to undo the string on the girl's bikini top, receiving cheers from the surrounding crowd. "Yeah."

Nick shakes his head, taking a deep swig of his beer. "Some friends you got now."

"They're okay," Harry defends weakly, reaching for his glass again and taking a deeper drink, his eyes crawling around the room.

He wonders where Olivia is in that instant, if she's getting ready for her date. He pictures her at her bathroom sink, his mind conjuring something out of a toothpaste commercial. She's in her underwear, her hair in curlers as she leans over, applying eye liner. He checks his phone and raises his eyebrows when he sees the time. It's already eleven. She must be on her date by now, sipping drinks in a smoky lounge while a devilishly handsome man has a hand on her thigh.