Dennis Nader felt his gut churning uncomfortably as he made his way toward the elevator. He paused to press the "up" button and the doors slid smoothly open to the sound of the chime. He knew it wasn't the high calorie, spicy food he had just consumed that were bothering him, he had a stomach of iron. Nor was it the three glasses of wine he had had with dinner, if anything, they had helped a bit. He studied himself in the reflective wall of the elevator as the car started to speed upward toward the eleventh floor. His gelled, sandy blonde hair was stylish enough, and the black suit fit well. His sister had picked out the tie (he himself was hopeless) and it matched nicely with the ensemble. I'm getting married tomorrow. He turned the phrase over in his mind, trying to parse out its meaning, all the strands of what that would mean stretching out before him in a terrifyingly broad vista. What am I doing? But I love her, what else can I do? His mind warred with itself as he rode upward and his suspicions about the source of his indigestion were confirmed as it worsened the more he thought about it.
He knew all grooms were nervous on the night before the wedding. How could one not be? Still, it might have helped if his bride hadn't been so...distant? He wasn't sure, she had just been a bit odd before the rehearsal dinner. Her words when they parted for the last time before she walked down the aisle had been proper enough, how much she was looking forward to spending her life with him and so on but...her eyes had had that strange, familiar look. He had always figured that a gorgeous woman like his soon to be wife was out of his league, and yet she had responded positively when he had finally gotten up the courage to ask her out. He still wasn't quite sure what she saw in him and every once and a while she gave that same, odd look to other men. There was nothing for it, he needed to talk to Jason. Jason could always calm him down. He and Jason went way back, he was one of Dennis' groomsmen, and, in one of those odd twists of fate, his wife happened to be a good friend of the bride, the matron of honor in fact. His stomach gurgled uncomfortably. Yep, definitely time for Jason. Dennis stepped out of the elevator and quickly found suite 1186, rapping nervously on the door.
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Now this is my kind of party. Tim thought to himself as he leaned against the polished wood of the bar. Dance music blared from the overhead speakers, having long since driven off everyone over the age of 30. He checked himself out in the reflection of the wood as he nursed his Jack and coke. His jet black hair hung past his ears, but it was well groomed and stylish. His dark complexion accented his handsome, half-hispanic features. He had already peeled off his suit jacket, and loosened his tie. Underneath the white shirt bulged with muscle. He was a little short at 5' 9" and he compensated with a fanatical workout routine. It seemed to work with the ladies most of the time, anyway. God the dance floor was hot tonight, the bridesmaids had all busted out clubbing outfits. Short skirts and plunging necklines seemed to be the order of the day. He couldn't see the bride from where he stood, but he knew from the dinner that she was the most smoking of them all. He wondered if she had changed as well? He threw back the rest of his drink, shook his head and started toward the dance floor. Its good to be the best man! Only one way to find out if any of the ladies were single.
He knew all grooms were nervous on the night before the wedding. How could one not be? Still, it might have helped if his bride hadn't been so...distant? He wasn't sure, she had just been a bit odd before the rehearsal dinner. Her words when they parted for the last time before she walked down the aisle had been proper enough, how much she was looking forward to spending her life with him and so on but...her eyes had had that strange, familiar look. He had always figured that a gorgeous woman like his soon to be wife was out of his league, and yet she had responded positively when he had finally gotten up the courage to ask her out. He still wasn't quite sure what she saw in him and every once and a while she gave that same, odd look to other men. There was nothing for it, he needed to talk to Jason. Jason could always calm him down. He and Jason went way back, he was one of Dennis' groomsmen, and, in one of those odd twists of fate, his wife happened to be a good friend of the bride, the matron of honor in fact. His stomach gurgled uncomfortably. Yep, definitely time for Jason. Dennis stepped out of the elevator and quickly found suite 1186, rapping nervously on the door.
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Now this is my kind of party. Tim thought to himself as he leaned against the polished wood of the bar. Dance music blared from the overhead speakers, having long since driven off everyone over the age of 30. He checked himself out in the reflection of the wood as he nursed his Jack and coke. His jet black hair hung past his ears, but it was well groomed and stylish. His dark complexion accented his handsome, half-hispanic features. He had already peeled off his suit jacket, and loosened his tie. Underneath the white shirt bulged with muscle. He was a little short at 5' 9" and he compensated with a fanatical workout routine. It seemed to work with the ladies most of the time, anyway. God the dance floor was hot tonight, the bridesmaids had all busted out clubbing outfits. Short skirts and plunging necklines seemed to be the order of the day. He couldn't see the bride from where he stood, but he knew from the dinner that she was the most smoking of them all. He wondered if she had changed as well? He threw back the rest of his drink, shook his head and started toward the dance floor. Its good to be the best man! Only one way to find out if any of the ladies were single.
