Sweet Little Lies

Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I slip around the corner and Tucker slides into view. He’s standing perfectly still, staring after Sergei. I close the distance between us, coming up beside him and taking his hand.

“Tucker, is everything okay?” I ask.

He turns back to me and I see a look flash across his eyes. He wipes a bit of sweat from his brow and tugs at the collar of his jacket.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he says. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

Really? Because it sounded to me like he just received an open threat from one of his business associates. I open my mouth to argue, but decide against it. We can discuss work after the wedding, I suppose. I’m not looking to ruffle any feathers right now, especially after my mother’s speech.

“Let’s head back to the party. My parents would like to grab a couple of photos,” he says, brushing a lock of hair over my shoulder. He grabs my hand and starts to take a few steps in the direction of the reception outside. I stop, pulling him back to face me.

“Tucker…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m really sorry about my mom. I didn’t know she was going to say?—”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, I understand. She obviously has some problems and she must’ve met Zach when she came into town during your bakery opening, right?” I confirm with a slight nod. “I’m not upset. Honestly, you handled it beautifully. You took what was an awkward moment and turned it into something wonderful.” He leans in and kisses me deeply. “Just another reason I love you more.”

I can’t even begin to describe the buzz from my lips to my toes as he kisses me.

“I’m so glad you understand,” I say as he gently pulls away . So glad, I think. But the conversation I just witnessed between him and Sergei still gnaws at me. I want to know what’s going on, but I’m afraid to ask.

“You know if there’s anything going on that you need to talk about, you can always talk to me about it, right?”

“Of course, always,” he says. “Now, our guests are waiting for us.”

I let him take my hand, letting the topic drop for now. He guides me back outside to the dinner area, where the string lights are now twinkling in the sunset. We walk over to the bar where his parents are waiting. They each compliment me on what a lovely speech I gave, and we take a couple of photos together.

“Reese,” I hear the shrill voice of Monica coming up on my right. I turn to face her, my body tensing up at her presence. She’s impeccably dressed in a sleek black designer cocktail dress and nude heels. She’s also wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hello, darling. It’s so good to see you. You look absolutely stunning in this dress.”

“Hello, Monica,” I say, forcing a smile onto my face. “Thank you.”

Tucker lets go of my hand, stepping toward a group of guests who have flagged him down to get his attention. Don’t leave me alone with her, I plead silently, but he’s already gone, swallowed up by the crowd. Monica and I are now left facing each other, a ball of tension hanging in the air between us.

“So, that was quite a speech your mother gave,” she says, dusting an invisible speck of lint from her dress as she delicately sips her cocktail. “I do hope she gets better.”

I bet you do, I think, my jaw clenching.

“Yes, she’s been having some problems with her memory,” I say, reiterating the point I’d already made in my speech. I can only imagine the side conversations Monica has been having since my mother’s gaffe about Zach. It will be the gossip of the week, I’m sure.

“Her memory, right ,” she says, a thinly veiled look of doubt on her face. Even though I want to smack the expression right off her face, there is something more pressing on my mind.

“Monica, can I ask you something?” I lean in, trying to keep my voice casual.

“Of course, Reese, anything,” she replies, her tone overly sweet. Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“What happened between Charlotte and Tucker? Why did she leave him?”

Monica blinks rapidly, a faint blush creeping up her neck. “Oh…well, to be honest, I don’t really know. There are some vapid rumors about where she wandered off to, but no one knows the truth.”

“But you knew them better than anyone,” I press. “Did you notice they were having problems? Did Tucker ever tell you what happened?”

Monica twirls her glass, her manicured nails tapping against the stem. She studies me for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Charlotte wasn’t the strongest person. She always struggled with stress, even in high school.” She leans in, lowering her voice. “Some might even say she was unstable. I didn’t love them together, but Tucker was ready to settle down, so…” She trails off, taking a long sip of champagne. “Anyway, it doesn’t surprise me that she snapped under the pressure and ran off. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that I’ve been getting some strange messages. Saying that I should call off the wedding. And I thought maybe…Charlotte was back and trying to ruin the wedding.”

Monica furrows her brow, studying me. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. It’s the first time I’ve even seen her off-balance. She begins again. “I don’t know who would be sending those, but I know it’s not Charlotte. She is the one who left him, remember?”

That’s exactly what Zach said. I open my mouth to probe further, but Monica’s attention suddenly shifts. Her eyes dart to the opposite side of the bar.

“Oops. Listen, dear, I have to go. My husband’s flagging me down. Looks like he’s in a deep conversation with Caroline Louise and is in need of a rescue.” Before I can respond, Monica flips her glossy locks over her shoulder and sashays away, her hips swaying as she weaves through the crowd.

I watch her go, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. Part of me can’t stand Monica—her fake charm, her obvious disdain barely hidden beneath a veneer of politeness. But I also feel a small flicker of gratitude. For all her faults, she’s the first person to share anything concrete about Charlotte and Tucker’s relationship. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

As I mull over the words she used… troubled, unstable, snapped … I realize I’m no closer to understanding what really happened. But at least now I have a piece of the puzzle. Clearly Charlotte wasn’t as put together as she made everyone believe.

The question is, do I really want to see the whole picture?

Before I can dwell on the situation further, I suddenly realize that in the hustle to follow my mother, I have left my purse on the dinner table. I walk back over to retrieve it and see that it’s still hanging from the back of the chair. Out of habit, I unlock my phone and check it when I open the lid. I should be mingling with the other guests right now, but instead, I’m worried about my mother and want to make sure she arrived safely at her hotel room.

I can see I have several Snaptalk messages, one from Zach checking in and then one from an unknown profile. I bite my lip. Do I want to read the message? Do I even want to know what ridiculous accusation is waiting for me?

When I open the message, I realize it’s not a text but a photo. A bit of bile crawls up my throat. I need to talk to Tucker, now.