7. Lacey
CHAPTER 7
LACEY
All I know is that Dylan must have had it coming. That’s what I first think when I hear someone shout at Dylan and then slap him.
Eagle is running toward the scene before I can even react. But I can tell immediately from the dress that the woman beside him is wearing that the person who delivered the slap that rang out across the property is none other than the mother of the bride.
I hurry over to see what the hell is happening. “Olivia?” I call. “Is everything all right?”
Dylan has a hand to his mouth, and I cannot believe it, but his lip is actually bleeding. My stomach sinks. Olivia Acosta is wearing a couple of huge rings on her fingers. I don’t know how she did it, but she actually hurt her husband.
By the time I get there, Eagle is speaking to Olivia in a low, calming voice.
“Ma’am, why don’t you come inside, and I’ll get you some water.” He’s trying to step between Olivia and Dylan, but Dylan is seething, sputtering, and not doing anything to try to calm the situation.
My arrival only makes things worse. So much worse.
“Fuck you too. Fuck you, Lacey. How dare you.” Olivia is gesturing at me, and I swear if Eagle weren’t between them, she looks as if she’d slap me too.
“Mrs. Acosta,” I say, starting to freak out. What the hell happened? What am I missing, and why do I feel like I’m about to be sick?
The guests have all filed inside to get their drinks, but soon, people will fill the gardens to mingle for the cocktail hour. Plated appetizers will be served, and nothing that goes on here can be kept quiet. We only have a few moments before there’s a scene that really will make this a night to remember.
“Do you need someplace private to talk? I can offer you and Mr. Acosta my office,” I say, desperate to do something, anything that will ease this situation down from what feels like the brink of a code-red emergency.
Dylan is blotting at the blood on his lip with the back of his hand.
Eagle suddenly seems to notice the blood. Dylan is hurt. “Does that need to be looked at?” Eagle asks. “We should get some ice on that.”
“You can keep the fuck out of things that don’t concern you,” Dylan says, and before I can defend Eagle, Olivia points a furious finger at me.
“You want to get my husband in your office? Why, did you fuck him there too? Do you plan to totally humiliate me on my daughter’s wedding day? Was that your plan all along?”
As soon as she says the words, a wave of nausea surges from my belly to my throat.
She knows.
She knows.
I don’t know how she found out or how this happened now, of all times and of all freaking places…but she knows .
Eagle’s face goes as red as a tomato, but I look to him desperately for help because I don’t know how I’m going to handle this.
It’s like everything in my life passes before my eyes. I have a bride and groom about to celebrate the biggest night of their lives, and something in my past, my stupid choices, isn’t just going to stress me out. My shitty mistake is about to blow up in my face.
I put a hand to my chest, not sure what to say. How to address the very obvious problem we have, when thankfully, Eagle steps in
“All right,” he says loudly enough that Olivia and Dylan both jerk to attention. “I’m only going to say this once,” he says, his voice murderously low but crystal clear. “I need everyone here to calm way the fuck down. Do you understand me? No swearing, no hitting, and no accusations. Now, follow me. I’m not going to ask nicely if I have to say it a second time.”
I swallow hard against the sour taste in my mouth and watch wordlessly as Eagle lifts a hand and motions to Brute. “I’m taking Lacey and the Acostas for a quick chat. Watch the place,” he says.
Brute lifts a dark brow and does a double take at Dylan’s bleeding lip, but he nods. “Got it. You need…anything?” he asks, no doubt wondering if Eagle can handle whatever’s going down on his own.
“I’m good,” Eagle says. Then he turns to me and points. “Your office.”
I hear the words, but I’m not sure what he means. I think my brain is frozen or I’m going into some kind of shock. It’s like I see every lie Dylan told me playing out in my memory right here like a movie.
His wife fucking knows. And I don’t think I have ever felt so ashamed. It was horrifying to find out that none of what Dylan told me was true. But after I broke it off with him, what settled in deep was this sense of shame. Disgust at myself. I let myself be lied to.
I saw those red flags waving, and yet, like a bull, I charged forward, oblivious to the danger I was in.
All of it hits me so fast, I can’t move. In my earpiece, I hear the head of catering tell me the appetizers are on their way out, and my knees almost buckle. That means the guests will be coming outside any minute. Whatever composure I have completely leaves my body. My hands go clammy, and suddenly, I drop my tablet. It hits the concrete path and shatters. My hands start to shake, and I gasp, staring between the now-useless device and Olivia, whose overly tanned face is screwed up in a cruel grin.
“Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it,” she hisses, and it’s then that my eyes start to burn.
“ Ma’am .” Eagle’s tone sets even my teeth on edge. He is not playing, and even I jump a little at how angry he sounds.
Olivia swivels her gaze to him.
“I told you I wasn’t gonna ask twice.” Eagle withers her with his glare, and she has the good sense to keep her mouth shut.
He looks at me, and I just blink, staring without really seeing anything. He comes up to me, bends, and picks up the tablet. Then he changes his tone altogether. “Lacey,” he says, his voice warm and gentle. “I need you to take me to your office now. Can you do that?”
I nod once.
Yeah, I can do that. I can do this. Maybe not without Eagle, I realize. All my professionalism has just disappeared like dew in the morning sun. I know I am better than this. I know I am stronger, smarter, but in that moment, the shock and the shame take over. I need a moment to collect myself. But I can’t walk away from this. I can’t escape what I’ve done.
“Lacey.” Eagle’s voice is calm but insistent, and I nod, knowing that I have to do this.
I lift my chin and start walking slowly toward the villa. I pick up speed and move faster, and as if there are wheels under my heels, I speed walk past the bar, which thankfully is full of guests laughing and talking, ordering drinks, and way too chatty to notice anything is amiss. At least, I hope they don’t.
Normally, I would be listening to their conversations at a polite distance, thrilled to blend into the background and absorb the happiness. I live for those moments. When the friends of the bride say this is the most beautiful wedding they have even been to. When hopeful young couples wonder if they can manage to have their wedding here. When older, long-married couples, infected by the joy and hope that a wedding seems to give everyone, hold hands for maybe the first time in a long time and look at each other, remembering why they are together. How far they have come since they walked down an aisle someplace and made their vows so many years ago.
Those are the moments that give me life, energy, and hope. But today, I truly just want to disappear. No one wants to think about the worst times in a relationship, the worst times in a marriage, at a wedding. It’s literally the last thing anyone wants to bring to the party, and I’ve done that for Olivia just by being here.
This might officially be the worst night of my life.
I clasp my clammy hands and race toward my office. I can hear the heavy footfalls and the low rumble of Eagle talking to Dylan and Olivia, so this bad, bad night is about to get a lot worse.
My office is unlocked, so I shove the door open and head directly to my desk. I plop down in my chair before I fall over and wring my hands in my lap.
I have no idea what happened, what Olivia knows, what Dylan said or did. All I know is the woman whose husband I was sleeping with for fourteen months knows something. And she is inches away from me right now.
My cheeks burn, and the first thing I think is that I need to apologize to her. None of this is my fault, but I did something wrong. I am wrong. I was selfish and needy and let all my better judgment fall by the wayside, and someone got hurt. That’s reason enough to do it.
As Eagle is closing the door, I stand up and blurt it out.
“I am so, so sorry,” I say, looking at Olivia. But as it comes out, I realize that was the absolute wrong thing to say.
“Fuck you and your apology, you stupid slut.” Olivia is pointing at me. “How dare you? How bloody dare you?”
Her use of the word bloody shakes me, and for a moment, I realize it must be some word she’s picked up to sound cultured or cool. I know from Dylan that his wife is from Missouri, and I sure as hell don’t think they say bloody there. My mouth falls open as I try to think of what to say to settle this situation, but I don’t have to.
Eagle starts barking out orders.
“Everybody sit down and shut up. That includes you, Lacey.” Eagle points at Olivia and Dylan, but my guests are not about to be intimidated by a biker at their daughter’s wedding.
“Excuse me,” Olivia says, but there is nothing polite about her tone. “But what gives you the right to get involved here? Do you know this whore slept with my husband? And not just once, although God knows she should have had more than enough of him after one time. They had an affair, and she has the gall, the nerve?—”
My cheeks burn, and I feel bile burn the back of my throat. “It wasn’t like that.” I try to interrupt, but I didn’t eat much today and haven’t had anything to drink since lunch. I’m starting to feel light-headed, and I drop into my chair, just hoping against hope that I don’t pass out. Although I don’t know if even that would make this night any worse.
The moment I hit my chair, Eagle was at my side. “Lacey, you need water. Are you feeling light-headed?”
He takes my hand in his, and I nod, pointing to the small fridge over by the coffee bar. “Water,” I whisper.
He charges over to the mini fridge and grabs three waters, then points at Olivia and Dylan.
“I don’t know what happened, but what I do know is that we need to get first aid for that.” He points to Dylan. “And we need to cool things down just a bit before anything else breaks or anyone else gets hurt.”
“Hurting people is his specialty,” Olivia sneers, turning away from her husband.
Eagle uncaps the water for me and bends down, keeping his head level with mine while I take a shaky sip. “Good,” he encourages. “Just cool off for a few minutes. Deep breaths.”
Then he walks over to Dylan and Olivia. I can hear them all arguing, and I catch glimpses of it, but I’m swimming in shame. All I can imagine is how she found out. What she knows. I think of all the text messages I sent Dylan when I thought he was a widower.
Shame sets my face on fire as I think of the pictures and the videos. Oh my God, the videos. What was I thinking?
“Oh God,” I moan, and I lift my head long enough to take another sip of water.
I know in some small part of my brain that I should be angry. That I should defend myself, stand up to this woman who, yes, was wronged, but my God. She was wronged not by me, but by her own damn husband. Part of me knows this, but I can’t.
Maybe I should have tried to cancel their wedding once I found out Dylan was the father of the bride. Maybe I should have been nicer to him last night… I mean, what if something I said to him set off the chain of events that led to Olivia finding out?
I don’t have much time to think this through, because before long, Eagle is standing beside me, holding his hand out to me.
“Lacey,” he says gently. “I need you to use that headset of yours and see if you can get somebody to bring us some ice for that busted lip. Can you do that?”
I lift my head and look into his beautiful eyes, the wrinkles around them reminding me of how gorgeous he looked when he was kissing me just last night. My God, my life is a mess.
“Lacey?” Eagle takes my hand in his and squeezes. “I need you to help me here, Lacey. Can you put out a call for some ice?”
The warmth and firm pressure of his hand over mine snaps my body to attention. “Okay. Ice.” I nod, every inch of me numb except the fingers laced with his. “Do we need first aid?”
Eagle shakes his head. “Nah, it’s a lip, so it bleeds a lot. He’ll be fine. We just need to stop the swelling.”
I tap the receiver and call out to the bar, asking one of the servers to bring some ice and cloth napkins to my office.
“Tell them to bring some fucking whiskey,” Dylan rasps, looking irritated and completely serious.
Olivia huffs, and Eagle gets up, stands over the two of them, and shakes his head. “Neither one of you is getting drunk tonight. Is that clear? And neither one of you is going to ruin this night for your daughter.” He holds his hands palms up. “I mean, if the two of you wanna blow this night up and make a scene that will most certainly ruin what I’m sure is a very, very expensive party, be my guest. But if I see one more sign that you’re out of control—that means violence, getting trashed, anything—I call the cops. That simple. Disorderly conduct, assault, whatever you want, you do. But I’m not fucking around here. You start anything, and I finish it with a call to 9-1-1. You hear me?”
Olivia sobers for a second, looking down at her ring, the one that I assume cut Dylan’s lip. “I can’t get arrested at my daughter’s wedding. Do you see what you’ve done?” She then bursts into tears—fake ones, thank God. I think if she seemed really sad, I would have started crying too. But her eyes are dry, and she’s making this moaning sound that almost makes me laugh.
Dylan sighs and rubs his head, while Eagle goes to answer the knock at my office door.
He comes back with a large glass filled with ice and two pristine white napkins. “Take this,” he says, thrusting everything at Dylan. “Clean yourself up and pull it together.”
Dylan looks down at his hands and the blood that’s drying on his fingers, then looks helplessly at Olivia. “Would you?” he asks.
And to my utter shock, she stops the crocodile tears, rushes over to him, and starts cooing over his cut.
“We’ll tell the kids the back of my ring hit your lip by accident,” she says, not even sounding apologetic. She expertly wraps the napkin around the ice and dabs Dylan’s lip. “It’ll be a funny story.”
“They might not even notice,” Dylan says, sounding completely chill about the fact that his wife assaulted him on their daughter’s wedding day. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Of course you are,” Olivia says, nodding. “We’re going to have to ask the Lantana to replace the wedding planner, though. You know that, right?”
“Of course, baby.” Dylan flicks a look at me, and in that instant, every bit of guilt I was feeling rises to the surface and is washed away by a wave of anger.
“Wait just a minute,” I say, standing from my desk.
Now Eagle rushes toward me, keeping me from getting close to the Acostas, who now seem not like fighters but members of the same team united against a common enemy.
“I did nothing wrong here,” I say. “There is no other wedding planner. There is just me.”
Olivia sets the bloody napkin down on the edge of my desk, puts her hands on her hips, and lifts a brow at me. “You have an assistant,” she says. “And I’m sure with what we’re paying for this wedding and the rehearsal and the brunch, the owners will understand if we’re not exactly happy with the service you’ve provided.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Everything has been flawless, perfect…” I trail off. I mean, of course they don’t want me around, but…
“Call your supervisor,” Olivia says, turning her glare on me. “Now. I’d like you replaced before my daughter cuts her cake. Or I will have my lawyers sue you, this place, and everyone who works here for anything their creative legal minds can come up with.”
My mouth drops open, and I try to argue, but Dylan smirks at me. “Don’t worry. I’ve got Sergio Lantana’s number. I’ll call myself.”
I shake my head slowly and take two steps back. Sergio Lantana is the owner, and I have no doubt that Dylan does have his number. That would end me for sure. I’m in over my head, and even though I’m angry, I know I’m out of options here.
“That won’t be necessary,” I say, my voice cracking over the words. I’m trying not to cry, but I hope I don’t sound like it. “I’ll call the manager and my assistant. I’ll take care of it.”
I turn and walk back to my desk, feeling like I’ve been shot through the stomach. I have no idea what I’m going to say. What I’m going to tell Don, the night manager, about this. How I’m going to explain to Carla, my assistant, that she has to leave her kids on a Saturday night to cover an event because I fucked the father of the bride, and his wife found out.
I don’t know how my heart takes the pain shooting through it, but somehow, as Eagle sends Olivia and Dylan back to the party, I know I have no choice. I take off my headset and pick up my desk phone.
“Don?” I say, my voice shaking. “It’s Lacey. We have a problem.”