“I love press club luncheons,” Danny declared as he shovelled a fancy chicken and white sauce concoction into his mouth.
          “You love the luncheon bit,” Gina chided, pushing her own meal to one side.
          “I don’t see your point,” Danny frowned. “Are you gonna eat that?”
          Gina rolled her eyes and shoved her plate towards Danny. “Be my guest.”
          Danny poked his fork into Gina’s chicken and then looked at her oddly. “What’s wrong?”
          “Do you think I should have roses in my bouquet?”
          “Bouquet?”
          “You know, at that wedding thing I’m sort of having.”
          “I know what you’re talking about but I can’t see how it can be so bad it’s putting you off a bevy of free food.”
          “Daniel, a bouquet is a major part of any wedding. It’s important to the poor, single women who think catching it will somehow lead them to the altar in the near future,” Gina explained. “I mean seriously, I read this book that listed a whole host of superstitions that arise from different coloured roses. There’s also the neurotic thought that people will look at my bouquet and bitch about my choice, and what if the roses give Paul hayfever and he has a sneezing fit and can’t say the all important ‘I Do’?”
          “I think you’re stressing way too much over some flowers Coleman.”
          “They’re not just flowers!”
          “Ok, flowers with a ribbon.”
          “They’re not just…” Gina paused, narrowed her eyes and then pouted. “We had a fight last night.”
          “Over flowers?”
          “No,” Gina said curtly. “Tablecloths.”
          “You argued over linen.”
          “I want nice, white cloths but he’s all negative and says they’ll get so dirty and stained from spilt wine. He thinks we should avoid tables and just have drop sheets.”
          Danny sniggered and then stopped when Gina gave him daggers. “Can I be honest with you?”
          “Yes but I may stab a fork into your head.”
          Danny picked up a folder from the person beside him and held it up to protect him. “I don’t care, I really, really, really don’t care and it surprises me you do,” he said quickly and then shielded his head with the folder. When nothing happened he peeked over the top. “Am I safe.”
          “Why does it surprise you?”
          “You’re just not a wedding kinda person,” Danny shrugged, putting the folder back. “Or so I thought.”
          “But its MY wedding Dan,” Gina frowned. “I’d be upset if it didn’t mean something to me.”
          Danny rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh. “So how bad was the fight.”
          “I kinda said he was a selfish bastard whose too self-absorbed to understand how much the occasion means to me and we might as well not get married as he clearly doesn’t want to contribute to the preparations,” Gina winced. “I then threw my Women’s Weekly Guide to the Perfect Wedding at him and stormed out.”
          “Just a mild over reaction then,” Danny teased as the strawberry cheesecake desserts were brought out.
          “No, he pissed me off.”
          “Because of his lack of care for tablecloths.”
          “The tablecloths for our wedding!”
          Danny nodded slowly. “I should start noting these things down. I’m sure it’s going to be useful knowledge one day.”
          “What do you mean?”
          “Well, I’ll be able to avoid stupid arguments by following the simple premise that if you agree straight away with the women then all is peaceful.”
          “I want what’s best for both of us,” Gina huffed as she took a large forkful of cheesecake.
          “Of course you do,” Danny smiled, starting on his own cheesecake.
          “And what I want isn’t drop sheets,” Gina said haughtily. “Or bibs for each guest.”
          “What?”
          “That was his other idea,” Gina groused and shoved her fork into the heart of the cheesecake with some force.

          “She’s gone psychotic mate,” Paul declared as he and Mikey took a break from rehearsals. “I mean she’s really gone too far.”
          “Yeah, what’s she done little fella,” Mikey asked as he sipped a glass of water.
          “See this,” Paul pointed to a small cut on his forehead. “Wedding guide, she actually aimed it at my head.”
          “I’m sure she had good reason.”
          “Ah no, she did it because I made a harmless joke about the tablecloths for the reception.”
          “What kind of joke?”
          “I said we should have drop sheets instead.”
          “Jesus mate, you’re organising a wedding,” Mikey paused. “She’s organising a wedding, you can’t go making jokes like that. Trust me, I know.” He motioned the new wedding band on his finger. He and Laura had gotten hitched over the summer and while Paul and Gina had had a lovely time there it had done nothing but spur on Gina’s manic organising.
          “Did you and Laura argue at all?”
          “Only once and then I took the ‘just agree with her’ approach and it was all smooth sailing from there.”
          “You agreed, with everything?” Paul said surprised. “So if she’d asked you to dress in a bear suit and top hat you’d have done it?”
          “Sure would’ve mate,” Mikey enthused. “It’d still be easier than going place card shopping together.”
          Paul nodded slowly. “I can see the upside, really I can but…”
          “It’s not in your nature to agree with anything, ever.”
          “That and I have such a low care factor,” he sighed. “I don’t know why she can’t just organise it and I’ll turn up on the fucking day.”
          “Oh mate, don’t ever let her hear you say that.”
          “Yeah well I just might,” Paul huffed. “I’m fucking sick of it. Flowers, tablecloths, fucking cake decorations. I just wish it was over.”
          “If you didn’t want to get married why did you propose.”
          “I do want to get married,” Paul scowled. “I just don’t want the shit that goes with it. All the pomp and ceremony. I thought Gina wouldn’t have been into it. How fucking wrong was I?”
          “What you’ve got to remember mate is this is every girl’s dream,” Mikey explained whimsically. “It’s essentially her day.”
          “What do you mean her day?” Paul frowned. “I’m gonna be there too.”
          “You’re only man meat little fella,” Mikey nodded. “Mark my words, the only thing you need to do is say ‘I do,’ every other moment all eyes will be on her.”
          “Are you two going to do your jobs or shall I just go ahead now and replace you with inflatable vegetables?” Ted sighed as he approached them.
          “Sorry, I was just trying to explain to Pauly a few vital things about weddings,” Mikey perked. “He thinks he’s actually got something to do with it.”
          Paul nodded and Ted went from frowning to smiling and then broke into raucous laughter. “How much you have to learn McDermott,” he snorted and leaned against a camera to stop himself rolling about on the studio floor.

          Gina arrived home, sauntering through her apartment as she poked through her mail, which consisted of a couple of bills and a plea from a charity for money for homeless seals or something equally inane. She dropped the pile onto the coffee table and noticed a bridal magazine she’d bought for inspiration had been defaced. She was assuming it was Paul as the bride now had horns, a tail and a pitchfork while the groom’s penis was protruding from his pants and the couple was handcuffed.
          “So that’s how he feels,” Gina huffed, snatched up the magazine and dropped it into the bin. “Prick!”
          She was pondering whether to drop a match into the bin when the phone rang. Gina picked it up from the kitchen table, hoping it wasn’t her mother asking about the wedding as she just might have had a breakdown. “Hello.”
          “Hey babe, I wondered if you were home.”
          “Why?”
          “Well,” Paul paused surprised at the bitterness in her one word reply. “I thought we could go out for dinner, maybe go to a movie and not watch it…”
          “Fuck you!” Gina spat and ended the call. She dropped the phone back onto the table and took several deep breaths. Oh there was no way in hell he was getting around her that easily. The phone rang again and she ignored it and decided to treat herself to a long, hot bath and avoid stupid, insensitive future husbands.

          “You look startled mate,” Mikey declared as he noticed Paul standing, looking stunned outside the Network Ten studios.
          “She just told me to fuck off mate,” Paul said in a very quiet voice.
          “Oh, your funeral,” Mikey breathed. “I wish you luck.”
          “I think I need a miracle,” Paul sighed as he hunted out the number for a taxi.
          He arrived at Gina’s a short time later and hesitantly let himself into her apartment. It was relatively quiet and he walked around a little until her heard the splashing of water and headed for the bathroom. “There you are I…” Paul’s voice trailed off as a sponge walloped him in the face. “…Was looking for…” He paused again, she may have been naked but Gina’s face was livid. “Did you have a bad day?”
          “I’d leave before your colon becomes my new soap dispenser,” Gina declared bitterly as she toyed with the bubbles.
          “Ok, so you’re premenstrual yes?” Paul winced and dodged a loofah. “GENIE!”
          Gina stood up, causing Paul to force himself to stay annoyed with her behaviour, grabbed a towel and marched out of the room. Paul followed her as she headed for the bedroom, stopping only to slam the door in his face. Feeling bewildered, pissed off and a little hurt Paul banged on the door and yelled in frustration.
          Once redressed in her pyjamas Gina opened the door to find Paul still waiting there. “I told you to leave.”
          “I know and I’d like to know why.”
          “You know why.”
          “I don’t think I do,” Paul scorned and quickly added. “And ‘if you don’t know then I’m not going to tell you’, is not an answer.”
          “Fine, you want an answer,” Gina huffed, pushed past him and marched into the kitchen. She retrieved the magazine from the bin and pointed to the picture. “How’s this for a start? Is this what you think of our nuptials?”
          “That upsets you?” Paul mused. “I was just mucking around.”
          “Yeah, you’re always mucking around,” Gina spat. “You don’t take anything seriously, for fucks sake I want to marry and man, not a boy.”
          “A boy,” Paul gasped and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah well I hadn’t planned on getting hitched to a spoiled little princess.”
          Gina’s eyes turned to slits, her nostrils flared and she spoke through tightly gritted teeth. “Get out of my home.”
          “Gladly,” Paul spat, turned on his heel and slammed the door on his way out.

          By the time he got home Paul was almost at a loss to remember what they were arguing about. Granted her stab at his immaturity had offended him but he was also resigned to the fact she was quite right. He took the stairs, wrestling with his conscience the entire way and by the time Paul was outside his apartment he had decided to call Gina and make amends.

          Gina was lying on her bed; her arms wrapped around the monkey Annabelle had given her as a birthday present, as she tried to calm down and work out what the hell was going on. She was furious none of her loved ones had told her men turned into complete dickheads when weddings were being organised. Her mother hadn’t mentioned it, it wasn’t in her Women’s Weekly Guide to the Perfect Wedding and it certainly wasn’t written in stone and passed down from one generation of women to the other.
          As she lay there contemplating nasty things to do to various parts of Paul’s anatomy, the phone rang. Gina knew who it would be and refused point blank to answer. It rang until it was picked up by the answering machine.

          …So leave a message and I’ll get back to you…beep…Genie, pick up I know you’re there. Come on babe…please. Look I know I was fuckhead before, I’m sorry ok. We shouldn’t be arguing about the wedding, I don’t want to argue about the wedding. Come on, can we just talk?

          Gina stayed stoic and didn’t move from her position on the bed. She wasn’t going to give in. As far as she was concerned he was being unreasonable and until he truly saw sense she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of giving in.

          The next morning Gina, exhausted from a near sleepless night, yawned her way to her desk and slumped miserably into her chair.
          “Still fighting huh?” Danny mused sipping his morning coffee.
          “We’re disagreeing,” Gina groused. “There’s a difference.”
          “And that is?”
          “That eventually he’ll see sense.”
          “You mean see things your way.”
          “Oh that’s right,” Gina huffed. “Do the man thing and jump to his defence,” she added, turning her attention to her work and snubbing Danny.
          “Ouch,” Danny muttered and decided it was best to leave her alone, very alone, as isolated as possible.

          Paul hadn’t slept at all; he’d passed anger and was instead just hurting. After analysing all that’d happened, he was at a loss as to what had turned the love of his life into a psychotic freak. He’d proposed, helped her organise the most fun engagement party ever witnessed and was now trying to lay the plan for their nuptials. Where the hell he’d gone wrong and incurred the object throwing was bewildering. What Paul really wanted to do was talk to Gina as calm, rational human beings and preferably in a place she couldn’t injure him.
          It didn’t take Paul long to decide that he’d go against everything he believed in and visit her at work. Even for someone so used to being loud and obnoxious there were nerves pricking at him as he entered the lobby of the Herald. He glanced around, steadied himself and approached the cheerful looking girl at the front desk.
          “Hello, how can I help you?”
          “Could you tell me where Gina Coleman is please?”
          “And who are you?” asked the girl as she picked up her phone.
          “Paul McDermott,” Paul replied. “Can you not call her, I’d rather just go to her if that’s ok.”
          “Well we don’t usually let people…” she paused a moment. “Oh hey, you’re that guy from Good News Week huh?”
          “Yeah,” Paul said quickly. “She’s gotta interview me…”
          The girl bit her lip a moment. “Ok, she’s on level three.”
          “Thankyou,” Paul smiled and hurried off toward the elevator before the whole building was alerted to his presence.
          He rode the elevator to level three and stepped out into a corridor. He saw a sign that indicated arts and entertainment were in one direction and news and politics were in the other. Oh God, her job description was so diverse! He thought back to all the times she’d talked about work and realised most of the time it was about politicians. Pleased he had at least some sense of recall left, Paul headed left in the direction of news and politics.
          He’d walked a little way when he noticed a familiar figure heading in his direction. “Dan!”
          “Hey McDermott what’re you doing here?” Danny mused as they stopped away from an open office door.
          “Is Genie about?”
          “Well her body is,” Danny smiled. “I think her mind may have fled to the land of crazy though.”
          “Oh so you’ve noticed then?”
          “Kinda hard to miss the fire she’s breathing.”
          Paul gave a dry laugh. “Don’t ever get married mate, women are fucking insane.”
          “All women or just Gina?”
          “All women,” Paul nodded. “Which way am I headed?”
          “In that door, first partition on the right,” Danny enthused. “I wish you luck mate.”
          “Thanks,” Paul nodded and headed for the aforementioned door. He stepped into the room aware of all the heads that suddenly lifted and the minds that began to scrutinise him. Trying his best to pretend he hadn’t noticed, Paul strode past them all until he came to the partition. He took a steadying breath before stepping around. Gina was hunched over a small hill of press releases; she looked up and quickly wiped the startled expression from her face.
          “What’re you doing here?” she asked frowning, despite knowing how hard it would have been for him to be there.
          “We need to talk, please,” he almost whispered. “You wouldn’t return my calls.”
          Gina seemed to grit her teeth a moment before getting to her feet. “Follow me,” she ordered.
          Gina led Paul back through the office, down the corridor and into a room. She turned on a small fluorescent light to reveal the room was actually a stationary cupboard.
          “I have pens like that,” Paul declared, hoping to break the tension but Gina’s expression stayed dark.
          “Be quick, I have a lot of work to do,” she huffed, her arms crossed.
          Paul bit his lips as he decided what he was going to say exactly. “Look ok, the thing is right…” He paused, concentrating hard to make an actual sentence. “I’m not sorry for anything I’ve said or done recently. Mostly because I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. I’m certainly not sorry for what I said last night. You are acting like some fucking spoiled princess. If I knew that marrying you was going to change you into someone that I just don’t think I can love then I wouldn’t have bothered proposing.”
          Gina blinked a moment, her cold resolve cracking. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t love me any more?”
          “Maybe,” he said calmly. “I certainly know I don’t want to marry you.”
          Gina opened and closed her mouth a few times before Paul let himself out of the cupboard. She couldn’t move for a moment, her legs not letting her chase him, her words sticking in her throat. Eventually her emotions came pouring out as tears.
          “Gina, you ok?” Danny asked, poking his head around the door. Seeing that she was bawling her eyes out, he walked over and pulled her into a hug. “What happened?”
          “He hates me and he doesn’t want to marry me anymore,” Gina managed to choke out. “How could he be such a bastard.”
          “Did you ever think that maybe it’s not him,” Danny suggested. “Maybe it’s you huh? Maybe you’ve been unreasonable and he’s just had enough.”
          Danny’s words swept over Gina and she felt her legs turn to jelly. He was right, she’d been so wrapped up in herself and what she’d wanted that she’d driven Paul away. The simple realisation of how awful she’d been to a man she was supposed to love made her tears come on ever stronger.
          “I’ve fucked it all up Dan,” she sobbed, gripping him tightly.