“That’s right, my folks have a farm down there,” Ray cuts in.
“Great. I want to blend both of your styles into something that speaks to you as a couple. We’re making something exciting together.” Susie squeezes Cora’s hand and smiles. “Should we dive in?”
“Yes,” Cora flutters excitedly. “Absolutely. I’ve got—Ray. Where’s my little book?”
“Right…uh…” Ray spins in circles like a large, dumb dog.
“You two find that,” Susie says. “Do you think I could get a glass of water in the meantime?”
She looks at me hopefully. I read her mind.
“I’ll show you to the kitchen,” I say.
Cora and Ray hunt the living room for Cora’s little book. I wind Susie through the loft’s long living-room-cum-dining-room. There are barely any walls in Cora’s apartment, everything knocked down to give it a more open-air feel, so we’re only awarded a small amount of privacy as I lead her into the kitchen and pluck a glass from the shelf.
“So,” I say as I pull a pitcher of water from the fridge, “are we going to talk about last night, or would you prefer we pretend it never happened?”
“What’s there to talk about?” She doesn’t mince her words. Her tone drops low and intense, a sharp contrast from her bubbly attitude only seconds earlier.
“When you vanished…”
“Oh. That.” Susie draws her hair behind her ear anxiously. “I saw the wedding invitation with your name on it. I panicked.”
“Ah,” I mirror her. “That.” At least I can sleep at night knowing it wasn’t anything I did to make her uncomfortable. I fill her glass of water and hand it off to her. “I have something of yours.”
“My dignity?”
“Your panties.”
She nearly chokes on her water. “Keep them,” she says. “As a memory of something that’s never going to happen again.”
“Why stop there?”
“This is my job. I can’t complicate work with feelings. It didn’t turn out so well for me last time.” Her eyes lock on mine. “Can I count on you to be professional?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
Her eyes sharpen. “What do you mean?”
I dip an inch to murmur in her ear, “You’re far too sweet to only have a single taste.”
She shudders. I can see it. But then she takes a step away, putting distance between us. “If you won’t be professional for me, do it for your sister, then.”
My jaw tightens at that. “As I explained to you last night,” I remind her, “right after I licked your brains out against the Central Park backdrop, I’m not here to celebrate. Ray Dalton is not good enough for my sister. So help me God, I’m going to tear this wedding apart before he ever steps foot on that altar.”
Her face goes pale white. She turns away and takes a long sip of cool water. I try not to focus on the way her lips curl around the glass or the bob in her throat when she swallows.
“Fine,” she says quietly, sternly. “You’re on.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“This wedding is happening.” She turns to me. “With or without you. So I suggest you and your perfectly sculpted arms get on this boat before I leave you sans life vest.”
Oh. This woman is good. “It’s on, honey.” I bare my teeth in a smile.
“Well, time for me to get to work building the perfect wedding for your sister.” She sighs dramatically and passes the glass back to me. “Try not to stare when I walk away.”
Her heels click on the hardwood. I want to retort, but her bottom does look phenomenal. The things I would do to her in that dress. I smooth my palm over my thigh briefly to cool my blood. Her coral lipstick lingers on rim of the glass, and I smudge it off with my thumb.
Two can play. Let the wedding games begin.
5
Susie
Two things I learn from my trip to the West apartment:
One, Cora and Ray are adorable. I stayed at their place an hour longer than expected as they rattled off rapid-fire ideas and Braxton supplied me with cool, cucumber-infused water.
Two, Braxton West is going to be a thorn in my side.
Not only is he cynical, aloof, and incredibly distracting in his expensive suits and stacked arms, but he is also actively seeking to destroy my assignment.
Well, he can keep dreaming. Because I’m a woman on a mission. I take notes at the meeting. I take notes all through the night. I take notes on the plane days later as we stall before takeoff.
I’m doodling ceremony arrangements and trying to ignore the plastic, recycled-air smell as the captain’s voice crackles over the intercom. “This is flight 215 to Charleston, South Carolina. All remaining passengers please take your seats so we can take off on time—”
“Excuse me, miss, I believe you’re sitting in my seat.”
I snap my head up. Thom stands like a long-limbed egret perched over my row.
I screech with joy, jump out of my seat, and fling my arms around his shoulders. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re here. You’re my Superman. What would I do without you?”
“Luckily for you, my dear, you never have to know the answer to that. I’m like glitter. You can never really get rid of me.” Thom presses a kiss to my cheek.
“And me! I’m here too!” Sweet-as-pie Marlee peeks out behind the goliath that is Thom. She’s balancing three different bags like an ant, small but mighty.
I don’t hug her for fear of toppling her over, but a grin spreads across my face. Anxiety that I didn’t realize I was holding in my chest molts away like old feathers. “The gang is all here,” I say. A pound of pressure falls from my shoulders. I don’t have to do this alone.
“You look terrible, Susie. Have you gotten any sleep?”
“Who needs sleep when you can fill out Excel spreadsheets instead?” Then a thought comes to me and prompts a frown. “Did Letty send you to babysit me?”
“Oof, no, nothing so cavalier,” Thom replies. He sidles past me and folds himself like origami into the window seat. Marlee shoves all the bags in the overhead before clambering into the seat behind us. “Think of me as your very dapper chaperone. Speaking of dapper.” Thom leans in conspiratorially. “Eye candy in first class, ten o’clock.”
I follow Thom’s gaze, and I groan. “Not just any eye candy,” I whisper back, equally conspiratorial. “That’s our best man.”
Braxton is as stiff as ever. He’s in first class, of course, while the rest of us squeeze like sardines back in coach. He’s dressed in an ash-grey suit and a stark white shirt, and, I have to admit, I get a sudden flash of memory: drawing my fingers through his tight, curly hair as I guide him down between my legs…
No. Bad thoughts. I scatter them. He’s sitting next to Cora, who is rattling on and pulling out what looks like every item in her bag, tossing the contents in his lap. Braxton, as always, looks patiently miserable.
“He is going to drop the panties of every bridesmaid,” Marlee sighs wistfully as she pops her head over the back of Thom’s seat.