Chapter Three - The Voice of Reason AKA Monica

'Wow! The veins on your forehead really pop up when you're pissed', Monica said as we entered my office.

I stormed out of the meeting room with a cloud of rage following me after her incredibly stupid suggestion. If there was one thing I ever wanted to leave behind as my legacy, it would be an advice to women to NEVER get married. No good has ever come out of it. I could not think of one functional relationship that has lasted a lifetime. Unless you're living in an Enchanted Forest and you're marrying Prince Charming, that marriage is a death sentence.

'Are you trying to give me an aneurism?', I said between gritted teeth.

'Yes, that is exactly what I'm trying to do', she said sarcastically.

'This isn't funny, Monica. You made me look like shit in front of my people', I said with a tantrum.

'Why? Because I suggested a wedding issue for a change?'

'Yes!'

Did she not realize how insane that idea sounded?

'Look, Genevieve, your whole obsession with independence and woman power and all that jazz, that's great, but you're missing the bigger picture. Every little girl dreams of her wedding day...'

Not every girl, I thought as I rolled my eyes.

'... and I've received a lot of fan mail asking for wedding related topics. Don't you think you owe it to your readers to grant them this one tiny, little wish', she pleaded.

'That sort of pathetic, crap talk may work on a baby, but not on me', I said as I paced around the office.

A wedding issue? Ugh! There was no way in hell I would ever agree to that.

She sighed out of frustration.

'You could be such a bitch sometimes', Monica murmured as she rubbed her temples.

'Excuse me?', my voice raised a few octaves.

I had half the mind to grab my stapler and throw it at her.

'I know that women all around New York worship you. You teach them how to be strong and take care of themselves, yada yada yada, and all that's great, but you'd be a hypocrite if you don't teach them that it's okay to be vulnerable and to seek love and a happily ever after. Women may be leaders and warriors and survivors but they're also lovers and wives and mothers.'

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at her in disbelief. Did she not know me at all? I didn't know if I felt angry or betrayed at this point.

'I can't tell them that', I tried to reason with her.

'Why not?'

I turned away from her and stood by the wall wide glass window. I stared at the beautiful city in front of me and I felt the beating hearts of every woman out there.

For some reason, I remembered the day my mother left my father. She yelled at him for falling into his cobweb. She regretted marrying him because their marriage was always loveless. She thought she was doing the right thing then because she was pregnant and had nowhere to go. My dad reminded her that no matter what he will always love her, but she still picked up her suitcase and walked away. They had no idea I was at the top of the staircase, and I heard every agonizing word coming out of her mouth.

I looked at the women walking around the streets of New York. I looked at the goddesses as they made their ways to weave their happiness.

Was Monica right? Am I really being a hypocrite for not wanting to teach women about love? Have I really fallen that far off the wagon?

'Why not, Genevieve?'

I knew Monica wouldn't shut up about it unless she got the answer she needed. I turned around to face her. I looked her square in the eye.

'I can't teach them something I don't know', I finally admitted.

'What do you mean?', she asked as she crossed her arms.

I needed to sit down for this. I was about to pour my heart out to my assistant who, over the years, has also become my best friend.

'I don't know what it's like to fall in love or plan a wedding or want a marriage. I've never wanted those things. You know me. I've never had a relationship that lasted longer than a weekend.'

Monica looked at me for a moment. She was beginning to understand my point of view. She slowly nodded her head as she tried to process my words.

'Every other article we publish; I know about because I've either tried it or been it. All I know is power and being in control. All I know is to never let a man dethrone me', I went on, not quite sure who I was talking to.

'Marriage isn't about a man dethroning you. It's about finding your equal; your soulmate, and wanting to cherish that bond for the rest of your life', she said.

I couldn't help but stare at her. If what she said was true, then why would two-thirds of marriages in the U.S. end up with divorce files. Why would my mother abandon the only man who was ever shown her the meaning of true love? Was she the one incapable of showing love? Every relationship she's had after my father was abusive either mentally or physically. I made a vow to myself to never let a man do that to me, not as long as I had air in my lungs.

'Do you really need to make that face?', she chastised as she pulled me away from my reverie.

I hadn't even realized I was making a face.

'Okay. We'll do it', I finally said.

'You serious?', she couldn't hide the surprise in her voice.

I couldn't believe I said those words myself when I was so hell bent on not making this happen only a moment ago. A part of me wanted to see how this thing would play out. It could also be a strategic business move. Sales may actually increase if we go ahead with this idea, not that we have a sales issue to begin with. Besides, I've never seen Monica put her foot down so strongly about something related to our magazine. She may be on to something phenomenal.

'If women need to know how to plan the perfect wedding, then that's what we'll teach them', I managed to say through the acid in my mouth.

Monica was right about one thing. If I am all about what women are, then I should cover every aspect of what it is to be a woman. Sadly, part of that is the little girl inside of her who dreams of her day in white.

She was practically on her tippy-toes.

'Only if you handle everything from now on', I added the catch.

'I'll do it', she said with no hesitation.

'I'll have to preapprove everything you decide on, obviously, but the main decisions are completely yours', I added, not wanting to delegate everything to her altogether.

'Femme's first wedding issue! We're making history', she said out of disbelief.

How that sentence didn't leave a sour taste in her mouth was beyond me. And after that, we can make the very first divorce issue, I thought sarcastically.

'There's just one problem', she added.

Here we go!

'What now?'

'Massimo's already done the shoot for this month's issue and he's now on vacation. We're going to have to do a whole new shoot and we're down a photographer', she said.

'We'll just hire a wedding photographer', I said.

Clearly this isn't a big of an issue as she made it appear to be.

'All the good ones will probably be booked by now, and those who aren't free will cost us a fortune because it is, after all, the high season for weddings', she expressed her worry.

'Money isn't an issue, Monica. Just find someone who's fit for the job and who's willing to do it on such short notice.'

'I know someone who will be willing to do a new shoot for you', said the annoying, unexpected voice of Madison Gilbert.

'How long has she been standing there?', I asked Monica.

'She follows me around everywhere', she said and shrugged.

'It's okay. I have a habit of being invisible', Madison said as if to soothe the situation.

'And annoying', I muttered under my breath.

I can't believe I just poured my heart out in front of this little pest. She better keep her mouse trap shut.

'You said you know someone?', Monica cut me off before I could give Madison a piece of my mind.

'Yes. My sister's fiancée. He's really good. Of course, I'll have to ask him first if he'll be willing to do it, but I'm sure he won't mind', she said nervously as she adjusted her glasses.

That girl needed a gallon of self-confidence combined with a master class on fashion 101.

'Great! Bring him in tomorrow', Monica told her.

Madison nodded gleefully, and they both left my office.

I turned around in my comfy leather chair to face the window. I felt something that moment that I haven't felt for a while; fear. I was making a very risky move and I could only hope for the best, and figure out a plan B for the worst. I balled up my fear and suppressed it deep into my soul for now. I can face my fears another day. I had to put on a brave face for now.

I turned around, fired my computer, and started reading up on weddings.