Color rose in Olivia’s cheeks, and Margot remembered tracing the southward spread of that blush with her fingertips, tasting it with her tongue, Olivia’s skin soft as satin and hot beneath Margot’s lips. For a split second, Margot went dizzy, blood rising to the surface of her skin, mimicking Olivia’s flush.
Know each other. Margot swallowed hard. You could say that.
“Olivia and I go way back.” Back to Girl Scouts and slumber parties and double-dog dares and pinky promises made beneath the stars. Promises that had been long since forgotten, broken. “It’s been, what, eleven years?”
Olivia’s hazel eyes rounded as she met Margot’s stare across the room. “Give or take. We, um, we went to school together,” she said, words rushing out of her in a jumble. “In Enumclaw.”
“Damn.” Brendon’s eyes darted between them. “Talk about serendipity, right?”
Margot forced out a chuckle.
The universe was playing a cosmic joke on her, that was for sure.
Chapter Two
Contract signed and deposit placed, Olivia quickly updated the Google Sheet itemizing Annie and Brendon’s wedding budget—hello—filling in the field beside venue. The rest of the column auto-adjusted, doing the math for her. Olivia saved then toggled over to her calendar, blocking out a time slot for a cake tasting with a local bakery ECE and Lori had worked with many times and who was willing to accommodate the tighter timeline. Immediate tasks accomplished, Olivia cast a quick glance around the venue’s courtyard. Annie and Brendon had wandered off a few minutes ago, hand in hand, stating their desire to get the lay of the land for the photos. Across the courtyard, Brendon’s sister blushed when her girlfriend whispered in her ear, both of them lost in their own little world. Olivia made another sweep, craning her neck to peer past the fountain and through the glass-paned door. She frowned.
Margot was missing.
Margot Cooper.
Olivia fought the urge to shiver, fingers curling into fists at her sides as a flush inched its way up her jaw without her permission.
She’d call this fate, if she weren’t unsure whether she still believed in that sort of thing. Four million people in this city and M. Cooper and her Margot turned out to be one and the same. Olivia swallowed hard. Not her Margot. Not anymore.
Olivia puffed out her cheeks, her exhale measured. Now was not the time to lose herself in the past, in old hurts that should’ve healed. She had a wedding to plan. Lori was counting on her to pull this off. Olivia’s future was riding on the success of this wedding, on her ability to put her skills to task and pull this off. Screwing up was not an option.
Flipping the cover over the screen of her tablet, Olivia tucked it away inside her purse and left the courtyard in search of Brendon and Annie.
They weren’t in the dining room or the ballroom, either. Olivia hiked her purse higher on her shoulder and made a left down the winding hall, which more closely resembled a maze, what with the sheer number of intersections and doors to choose from. It was a place she could easily get lost in if she wasn’t careful, her memory of the exact layout a little hazy from the anniversary party she’d assisted Lori with months ago.
From the outside, the venue was unassuming, plain brick like any other warehouse in the area, not a place anyone would look at twice. Stepping inside was like falling through a looking glass, like entering a whole new world, a wonderland of glitzy chandeliers, ornate murals, creeping vines, and old-world exposed brick. It was achingly romantic, like something out of a fairy tale, the sort of place where Olivia had dreamed of getting married when she was little.
Olivia’s thumb brushed the bare skin beneath the knuckle of her third finger as she ducked her head through an open door. She drew up short, heart rate ratcheting, and cleared her throat. “Hi.”
Margot spun toward her, dark eyes wide behind the lenses of her cat-eye glasses. “There’s an elephant in this room.”
A laugh bubbled up inside Olivia’s throat. “You think?”
Margot’s face turned red, matching the color of the plaid shirt she wore unbuttoned over a black crop top so tight it might as well have been a second skin. The bare strip of her stomach was pale and flat, and Olivia’s own skin pebbled with goose bumps.
“Funny.” Margot gestured toward the life-sized and lifelike elephant, wrinkly and gray with huge ivory tusks, stationed in the corner of the room. “Who the fuck puts a fake elephant in a dining room?”
Olivia stepped inside the room, leaving a healthy distance between her and Margot as she lifted a hand, curling her fingers around the elephant’s right tusk. “It was built in 1931 for the Paris Colonial Exhibition.”
Margot’s eyes followed her, watching her like a hawk. “Since when did you become a fount of obscure knowledge?”
“Eleven years is a long time,” Olivia said, hating how that was meant to come out like a joke but her voice cracked halfway through, earnestness seeping out like blood from a wound.
Olivia regretted leaving her coat in the car. What she wouldn’t have done for one more layer, another defense against Margot’s unflinching stare that managed to strip Olivia down and leave her feeling naked despite her sweater. She glanced down and winced. Her sweater that was covered in cat hair. Cute.
“The, um, facility manager, Chris, mentioned it at the beginning of the tour,” Olivia explained, trying to surreptitiously brush away the cat hair. “I guess you weren’t paying attention.”
Margot’s throat jerked. “Maybe I was distracted.”
Olivia ducked her chin, fighting a losing battle against the upward twitch of her lips. Distracted. That was . . . something. “You cut your hair. It looks great.”
Margot ran her fingers through her lob, causing her plaid shirt to open further and reveal more of her bare stomach. “Thanks.”
She’d dyed it darker, too, black instead of brown. It barely brushed her collar when she moved her head.
Olivia uncurled her fingers from the elephant’s tusk and dropped her hand, crossing her arms under her chest. “How’ve you been?”
Margot shrugged. “You know.” No, not really. “Fine? And you? How are you? How’ve you been?”
“How much time do you have?” Olivia joked.
Margot braced her shoulder against the wall. “So you and Brad, huh?”
Leave it to Margot to dive directly into the deep end. Never afraid of charging in headfirst. “Divorced. Last spring.”
“My condolences.” Margot’s brows rose over the black rim of her glasses. “Or congratulations? I’m never really sure what’s appropriate.”
Olivia was over the split, but talking about it usually didn’t make her laugh, not like it did now. Divorce wasn’t funny. Most people treated it like something to be ashamed of, like she should be ashamed of herself. “We, uh, we just wanted different things.”
She could say more. Start at the beginning instead of the end. She could tell Margot all about dropping out of college when Brad had suffered a football-career-ending injury. About how she’d followed him back home to Enumclaw and how they’d gotten married because he’d asked and that’s what she’d always wanted . . . right? About years spent giving and giving and giving, handing over pieces of herself until Brad had asked her for the one thing she wouldn’t give him.