Mistakes We Never Made

16 Thursday Night

(Two days before the wedding)

LIKE ANY WOMAN, Ibelieve all my friends are beautiful. Sybil in the way of a fairy princess. Willow has the tousled hair and je ne sais quoi of a French film star. But Nikki is beautiful like the Fourth of July: summery, sweet, and a little bit of a firecracker. Her smile invites everyone in and tells them to pull up a lawn chair and grab a lemonade. It’s why they picked her from piles and piles of applicants to be on LovedBy. But she worked her way into the hearts of millions of viewers because she really is all those things.

At least she was until Aaron. Since their breakup, she’s guarded in ways she never was before, and she’s started arming herself with perfection. Even now, after what I’m sure was a hectic race to the airport with Jamie and his crew of groomsmen, her makeup is immaculate and her honey-blond hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, sleek and flawless.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” Nikki says calmly, but her eyebrows are nearly to her hairline.

Finn releases me slowly, as if he doesn’t want to let go, but I can still feel the heat of his hands against my skin. My foot drops to the ground, and Finn positions himself in front of me while I try to put myself to rights.

I scoop up the bag that lies forgotten on the floor, and we step out of the elevator. The doors shut softly behind us as Finn’s phone buzzes. “I’ve got to grab this,” he explains, and steps out of earshot.

Nikki folds her arms across her chest. “I texted you, but when I didn’t hear back, I decided to just come find you. Have a nice dinner, did we?” She raises an eyebrow. “Looks like you’re still working on dessert.”

“I’m sorry, Niks.” Guilt has cut through my fog of lust. We wasted time when we should’ve been looking for Sybil. “We were just about to start trying to find Sybil again.”

“Em, it’s okay.” Nikki’s voice softens, and she loops her arm through mine and steers me through the lobby toward the ladies’ room. Looking in the mirror, I catch a glimpse of what just a few minutes of kissing Finn has done to me. My lips are swollen, my cheeks are flushed, and the skirt of my brand-new dress is an accordion of wrinkles. Remembering how I got this way, I swallow past a wave of desire and try to press down the creases. “You’re allowed to take a moment for yourself once in a while. I’m just…” She pauses for a moment, but then presses on. “I’m just really worried about Sybil. When we left LA, the Rains still hadn’t heard from her all day.”

I pull Nikki into a hug. She smells like citrus blossoms and mint. “She does this, Nikki. You know that. She’s okay.” I will myself to believe the words as I say them.

Nodding, she sniffles and pulls away.

Steeling myself, I say, “I have to tell you about something that happened in San Diego.”

“I know about the video, Em.” She straightens one of the straps of my dress. “A dozen people have sent it to me today.”

“Nikki, I’m so sorry.”

“I know you were just trying to look out for me.” Turning toward the mirror, she makes a quick appraisal of her own appearance. She nods, satisfied with what she sees, but then she deflates with a sigh. “And I know how infuriating Aaron can be. But you don’t need to take care of me. I’m a big girl.”

I nod, but something in me hurts. Because I do. It’s my job to take care of the friend group—all of them. I really feel that, and I don’t want to let them down.

“I like this dress.” She brushes my hair from my shoulder, and then boops my stomach. “Let’s get back to your BOAT man.”

“Nikki!”

Nikki is the only person I’ve ever told about the hot-and-heavy pool make-out with Finn. Sybil and Willow were too close to the Prom Incident and knew too much about Finn, so I never felt like I could tell them. A week and half into the Europe trip, though, Nikki and I stayed up to finish a bottle of wine while everyone else went to bed. Overlooking the vineyard that Willow’s aunt owned, the smell of lavender drifting up to us, I couldn’t stop thinking about Finn. About that kiss. Drunk on rosé, new places, and making a new friend, I spilled everything. Nikki gasped at all the right moments, and when I finished she said, “So he’s your BOAT.”

“My what?”

“Best of all time,” she said with the slow seriousness of someone very drunk.

“Don’t you mean GOAT?”

“Who wants a goat when you could have a boat?” She emphasized her words with an overly enthusiastic wave of her hand, splashing most of her glass of wine on the gravel below. Devolving into fits of giggling, my angst over Finn eased as Nikki recast years of longing into very manageable boy drama.

“Maybe one day you’ll get back on his boat and sail off into the sunset.” She grabbed the bottle of wine to refill her glass. “Until then, lots of fish in the sea.”

LITTLE DID EITHER OFus know how right she was then. Because it was just a few years later that the night in New York happened… I feel myself breaking into a sweat just thinking about it now.

Finn rejoins us at the foot of the (fake) Eiffel Tower, and it looks like he’s taken the time to put himself to rights too—no evidence of my lipstick on his face, his sport coat only betraying a few new wrinkles. The three of us circle up to talk strategy, and I see that I have half a dozen missed texts from Nikki, and one from Liz from several hours ago.

The text from Liz is a selfie in my bathroom mirror of her in my clothes with the question Professional enough?

I’d hire you!I type back.

She sends back a blushing smiling face and an eye roll emoji. Networking went well! I’ll call you later!

With the sun now completely down, the air has dropped a few degrees. I shiver as we walk back toward Caesars. Finn takes note and starts to hand me his sport coat, an action that once again has my brain flashing like the neon signs of Vegas: DATE DATE DATE. I wave Finn off. The cool air is bracing, a much-needed shock to the system to refocus me on the task at hand. Finn slides back into his jacket, then says, “Hey, where’s my sweatshirt?”

“Don’t worry, it’s safe in here.” I pat the shopping bag.

“You have his sweatshirt?” Nikki asks.

“She stole it,” Finn supplies.

“I won it,” I correct.

“She tried to get naked in front of me. I figured if I gave it to her, she’d stay clothed.”

Nikki’s eyes widen then her lips curl up into a grin. “Seems like you’re both trying to get naked,” Nikki says, but it’s low enough that only I can hear it.

Clearing my throat loudly, I say, “Let’s call Willow and tell her what’s going on.”

“There’s not much to report, is there?” Finn asks.

“No, but maybe with our powers combined, we can come up with something.”

While I dial, Nikki mouths “BOAT” at me silently behind Finn’s back. Thankfully, Willow answers on the first ring.

“Tell me you’ve found her,” she says.

“We have not found her.” I switch the phone to my other hand, and Finn’s jacket brushes against my arm. I try not to think about how close he is, or how close he was to me just a few minutes ago. I suppress a shudder as I remember the sensation of Finn’s teeth scraping softly against my neck.

Willow sighs. “Shit.” There’s silence, then I hear a faint click and a puff of air. It’s a familiar sound, but I can’t quite place it. Until, wait—

“Willow, are you smoking?”

“I’m just lighting it! I’m not actually smoking it, Em. But I swear to god, if I can’t at least hold a cigarette in my hand right now, I’m going to go insane.”

“Okay, but open a window. Even breathing the secondhand smoke can impact the—”

“Emma,” Willow cuts me off. “Trust me. I know. I’m not going to do anything to endanger my baby.”

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. Once again, my stress instincts have me scrambling to fix whatever I can. “What’s the latest there?” I ask Willow.

“Everyone’s buying Jamie’s lie about food poisoning, but the Rains are worried. They want to get the police involved.” We all fall silent for a moment as the seriousness of the situation settles around us.

“Maybe we should.” Nikki twists nervously at the end of her ponytail.

“Give us a chance to talk to Jamie,” I break in.

Nikki turns to me. “What will we even tell him?”

“I don’t know.” And I really don’t. At this point, lying to Jamie feels less like we’re protecting Sybil and more like we’re putting her at risk. “Maybe it’s time to just tell him the truth.”

We hang up and enter Caesars Palace. Jamie and his groomsmen are easy to spot across the lobby, all dark hair and expensive suits. They wave at us to join them, but before we can head in their direction, a bevy of boas and tiaras cuts us off.

“Nikki! Nikki Bennett!” A gaggle of white women—clearly a bachelorette party—beelines straight toward us, and Nikki’s entire demeanor changes. She puts on a smile and cocks her head, but something shutters behind her eyes.

“Can we get a photo with you?” a woman with a light-up cowboy hat and a “Maid of Honor” sash asks.

“We loved your season!” another woman says as they congeal around Nikki.

“Aaron is the absolute worst,” says one with a penis straw bobbing in her drink.

Nikki doesn’t drop her smile, but the lines around her mouth tighten as she poses with each of the women. They all get together for a group shot with the lobby’s fountain in the background and ask me to take the photo while yelling, “Best bachelorette party ever!” The maid of honor in the cowboy hat takes a second look at me as I hand her back her phone. “You’re that girl in the video!”

I flinch at the reference to #burritogate, but suddenly I have a much bigger concern to contend with—Jamie has made his way over to us, his crew of groomsmen in tow. I note several members of this thirsty bachelorette party eyeing them up and down.

“Hey, Emma, Nikki.” Jamie offers up a wide smile, but his eyes keep scanning behind us. “Where’s—”

He’s cut off by a loud voice from behind me, as one of the bachelorettes—the one with a penis straw—crows out, “Ooh, you’re yummy. You should go on LovedBy next.” I turn to see her coral-pink nails clutched around Finn’s biceps. He gives her an effortlessly devastating smile while gently extracting his arm from her grip.

“Ha, thanks. But not really my thing.”

“Well, maybe you and I should just have our own little overnight date, then.” She waggles her brows, and her eyes are glassy as she leans her body weight against Finn’s torso.

“Um, no thanks.” He looks over her blond curls at me, inclining his head toward the exit. “Emma, do you think we should…?”

I nod and start moving toward the door. “Jamie, let’s step outside and we can—”

“Oh come on! Don’t you like me?” Penis Straw’s drunken voice rings through the lobby. “Just roll with it, cutie, it’s a compliment!” I notice her hand drifting from Finn’s arm to his chest now.

And I see red.

“Back off! He said no!” I whip around so fast that my elbow knocks into another bachelorette, sending her crashing to the floor with a yell. Her phone flies into the air, then plops into the fountain. The entire bachelorette party erupts into drunken shrieks.

Jamie looks from the fallen bachelorette to Finn, to Nikki, to me, the ghost of a smile still on his face, as if he thinks this whole fiasco might be part of some sort of flash mob and Sybil is going to pop out of the fountain any minute now.

“What the hell, you freak!” Penis Straw gives me a weak shove, hands on both of my shoulders.

“Hey!” Finn is behind me in an instant to catch my stutter step backward, his voice sharper and deeper than I’ve ever heard it, echoing off the marble lobby.

A security guard jogs over. “What’s going on here?” he asks.

The woman I bumped into points up from the ground. “They attacked me!”

The officer immediately turns his eyes on Finn. “Did you put your hands on this woman?” His tone is sharp and accusatory.

“I pushed her.” My voice echoes off the marble surrounding us as I shove my way between Finn and the security guard. “He didn’t do anything.”

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down.”

“I’m calm!” I yell.

Penis Straw, the woman whose obscene groping of Finn started this whole commotion, looks aghast. “It was a compliment!”

“Emma,” Finn says with what seems like practiced calmness. “Just let it go.”

The bridesmaid in the cowboy hat pipes up, and turns to the security guard. “It’s not the first time she’s been violent. She attacked Aaron Brinkley just this morning.”

This gets the security guard’s attention. “She assaulted someone earlier today too?”

“There’s a video.” Cowboy Hat starts tapping on her phone.

The security guard turns to me. “I’m afraid we’ll have to call the police if you don’t vacate the property, ma’am.” He crosses his arms and widens his stance.

“It’s fine,” I say. “We’ll just leave.”

As we file out of the casino, I lean over to Finn and murmur, “Sorry about that. I know you had it under control, I just couldn’t get over the nerve of that girl.”

“She was pretty drunk.”

“Still,” I say.

“Yeah, not a great situation.” Finn shrugs. “But the upside is getting to watch you Hulk out on my behalf. I know righteous indignation is your love language. It’s a privilege to have you defend my honor.” He’s making light of the situation for my sake, I know, but there’s something else in his expression too. A kind of… vulnerability? Softening?

We step out onto the sidewalk, where the neon signs reflect twinkling light in Finn’s whiskey eyes as he looks down at me. I can’t stop staring up at him. He’s got a full-blown Emma Face going. Half-exasperated, half-affectionate. Or maybe a little more than half. I’m sure my grin is radiating the same fondness I see on his. And I can’t deny what he’s just said. Because somehow, over the course of this crazy day, Finn has gravitated from “sworn enemy” to something else. Something I want to bask in, cling to, go slightly crazy defending. It’s electrifying. And terrifying.

I feel an elbow nudge my ribs.

It’s Nikki, standing in a clump with the bachelor party guys and Jamie, who still seems utterly lost. Right. Time to come clean about Sybil. I brace myself to break the news to him, but then he gives a little cough, as if to clear the air of whatever shit show just went down, and says, almost casually, “So… I heard from Sybil.”