“I’m sorry,” Brent says to Max. “How’d that make you feel?”
My client’s a psychiatrist and can’t help himself. We may be here for a while.
“Honestly?” Max says, his eyes clouding with sadness. “Made me feel like shit. I’m used to comparing myself to my brother. He’s older than me. We compete all the time. That’s expected. But when my girlfriend essentially told me I was the off-brand version of my brother, well, I’m sure you can imagine that was a difficult thing for a guy in his early twenties to hear.” He straightens. “But I’m over it now.”
Yeah. No. I’m thinking that’s not entirely true.
“She obviously didn’t deserve you,” Brent says. “People like that—”
“Brent, it’s okay,” Max says on a chuckle. “This isn’t the time or place. Let’s focus on your vows.”
Brent nods. “Right.” He rolls his shoulders and puffs out his cheeks before he begins again. “Anyway, because this was all new to me, I didn’t trust it, so I ran from our relationship, told you I wasn’t ready to be tied down—”
Max shakes his head, a cheesy grin on his face. “No, it’s important to know you’re ready. There’s no going back. You need to be certain this is who and what you want.”
The amusement in his tone pushes me out of the moment and pulls me back in time again, to the night before my wedding. I can easily imagine Max saying these very words to Andrew—about me. And if Max was telling Brent the truth about the extent of his own romantic relationships just now, at the time of my wedding Max was giving his brother advice on a topic about which he had no frame of reference. For whatever reason, he chose to meddle in my affairs when he knew very little about me. And I still don’t know why.
Brent, meanwhile, is undeterred, continuing to recite his vows despite Max’s interruptions. “But in the end, I couldn’t fight your love, your dedication to building something true and real with me. And I’m so glad I lost that battle.”
Terrence returns and jostles Max out of the way. “That’s enough of that. Those words are meant for me. You’re lucky I’ve heard them already. Otherwise we’d be fighting.”
Max backs up, wearing a good-natured smile and throwing his hands up in surrender. “He’s all yours. You’re a lucky man.”
When Max turns to catch my eye, I let him, my face relaxed into what I hope he’ll read as a neutral expression.
“Thanks for your help today,” I say. “I’m going to finish up with them and head out. I’ll contact you when I have another appointment that might be helpful.”
He tilts his head back as he appraises me. “We’re done here? You don’t want me to hang around a little longer?”
I shake my head, my gaze focused on the joyful couple a few feet away. “There’s not much else to do. We’ll go over the procession once more and then I’ll let them go. I didn’t realize Terrence was on call, and I don’t want to take up any more of his time.”
When I chance a glance at Max, I see that his gaze hasn’t strayed from my face. Somehow he manages to look both studious and aloof, as though he’s trying to figure something out but wishes he didn’t have to. “What about if I stand quietly over here and record some footage of you in action? You’ve already cleared it with them, right?”
I nod. “I did. And you’re free to do whatever you want. Enjoy the weekend.” And then I’m striding in Brent and Terrence’s direction. Head high. Shoulders back. A power walk for the ages. It’s exhausting but necessary. I don’t want Max to know how he’s affecting me. I’m not even happy about acknowledging it to myself.
Jaslene’s right. I do need closure. Because every time I convince myself I’m not holding a grudge against Max, something happens to remind me that I actually am. Still, I can’t just ask the man why he discouraged his brother from marrying me. Not outright. I’d be admitting that his answer matters, and I’m not prepared to do that, either. It’s a conundrum—where to go from here. But when I reach my clients and catch the tail end of a comment about Brent’s intimidating mother, the solution comes to me. My relatives are a potent weapon that I don’t use often enough. It’s time to sic my family on Max.
Chapter Thirteen
Max
From: [email protected]
Date: April 16 - 9:32 am
Subject: Next Steps
Hi Lina,
As part of the process of helping you prepare for your presentation on Tuesday, May 14, I would like to speak with a few of your clients about their impressions of you and your services. At your convenience, could you send me the names and phone numbers of three client references? It would be helpful if you could include the approximate date and location of the event you helped plan for each client. Looking forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Max
From: [email protected]
Date: April 16 - 9:37 am
Subject: Re: Next Steps
Sure.
Anthony & Sandra Guerrero
443-555-3334
Wedding on the National Mall; May of last year
Patrice Bell & Cynthia Stacks
202-555-3293
Reception at Meridian House; June of last year
Bliss Donahue & Ian Grey*
215-555-8745
Wedding and reception at the Savoy Inn; April of this year
*Note that Ian is Rebecca Cartwright’s first cousin.
Best,
Lina
p.s. If you’re free this Thursday evening, I have a wedding consultation in Maryland you could attend. I also have a rare day with no event scheduled this Saturday, so I’m scoping out a venue for a client. It’s in Virginia, about two hours away. You’re welcome to join me.
From: [email protected]
Date: April 16 - 9:41 am
Subject: Re: Next Steps
I’m free for both. Send me the address for Thursday’s meeting and I’ll be there. We can chat about Saturday then. Thanks.
I spend the next ten minutes leaving messages for the references Lina provided. In theory, her former clients will provide some insight into Lina’s unique skill set. But what I’m really looking for is some insight beyond her planning abilities. A poignant anecdote. A save-the-wedding moment. A memory about Lina rather than the wedding. Clients don’t hire companies, they hire people. So essentially, I’m digging for that elusive something that goes beyond Lina’s unquestionably impressive résumé.
She certainly won’t share that information herself. Not with me, at least. Every time I think we’ve taken a few steps along a smoother path, she drags me back through the underbrush. Maybe we’re just destined to be uneasy allies. I suppose I should be thankful for even that, given our history. Lina doesn’t owe me anything, and I need to stop acting as though she does. If there’s any crucial information to be gained, I’ll get it from her past clients. End of story.