2. Alice
2
Alice
“ S weetheart,” Coco says, striding across the reception hall floor to reach me. Dad is two steps behind her. And my siblings just behind him. The troops are headed my way.
They’ve been waiting for me—no doubt. Waiting while the wedding party went through a long, treacherous photoshoot. I couldn’t decide if I should stay for photos or not. I am in lavender tulle and lace, like all the other purple fairy bridesmaids. So, when the photographer lined me up with rest, I shut my mouth and posed.
“Are you okay, Princess?” Dad says.
“I’m fine.” I bobble my head in a shake. “It’s not a big deal.” Social suicide—yes. But a big deal… For dumb Dan, it is. He just married a cheater.
“Alice,” Dad says, “you objected at your friend’s wedding. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“What should I have done?” I throw my lacy lavender arms out. I’m starting to feel like a puff ball in this thing. “I caught Amanda kissing a groomsman two minutes before walking down the aisle. Dan was already in place next to Father Berks. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Coco gasps. “Oh no.”
Really? Did no one understand my clues? Is Dan marrying cheater-cheater pumpkin-eater all my fault?
“Oh, I got it. Loud and clear,” Lula says. “Nice make-out form, sis. Your hand is very lucky to have you.”
Dad and Coco groan—but I’m just glad someone understood me. I thought I was clear without stating the obvious. I was attempting to keep Dan from any more humiliation.
“Everyone got it. Alice made out with herself. Ew.” York wrinkles his nose.
“Fine,” Coco says. “I did understand, but still shocking to hear. That’s little Amanda. She used to sleep over at our house.”
“Yeah.” I huff out a sigh. “Little Amanda… How long do I have to stay here?” I yank on my lacy tulle bodice.
“Oh, I’m guessing you can leave at any time,” Dad says, his tone soft.
“Uh, yeah. Like an hour ago would have worked.” York rolls his eyes. Sometimes I think my brother is seventeen going on seven.
“Shut up, York,” I snap.
Coco reaches back for him, clasping a hand around his wrist. “Honey, you and Lula can go. Take the car. It’s nice out. Dad and I will walk.”
“We will?” Dad says, but then, catching Coco’s glance, he nods. “We will.”
York does not need to be told twice. He turns on his heels and grabs my sister on his way.
Coco’s brow cinches. “We’re going to talk to Amanda’s parents before we go.”
“Oh boy,” Dad mutters. “Is that necessary?”
“I think we’d better, Jude.” She turns back to me and reaches out to take my hand. “You stay as long or as little as you like, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I squeeze her hand.
It’s times like this when I do not feel grown up. I’m just a twenty-six-year-old child. I mean, I look like one. I’m in a hoop skirt, for heaven’s sake.
“Love you, brave girl,” Dad says, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my head.
Brave . I was trying to do the right thing. I didn’t think about being brave. Dad always said that, as a child, I was a mini grown-up. He said since the day I could speak, I said things as I saw them. He said my honest ways were a gift and he hoped I’d never change.
I wonder if he’s still hoping for that today.
My mom, Sandra, is going to be horrified. This whole situation would make her think of me as an embarrassment… maybe she’ll never find out.
I nibble on my bottom lip and watch as my parents attempt to smooth things over with the Clarks.
I’m not sure what I would have done differently. There was no time to tell Daniel in private, and I couldn’t stay quiet, not after what I had witnessed.
Oof . It’s time to go. Amanda’s sidelong glares tell me she will not miss me.
I pick up the tendrils of fabric upon fabric of my skirt and start for the hall exit.
“Alice!” a voice calls. I don’t know that voice… do I really need to stop?
There could be multiple Alice’s in this hall, right?
“Alice Taylor!”
Okay, maybe not. I stop my trek and peer back, pushing the puffed sleeve of my dress out of my eyesight. “Zoe?” I almost forgot she was here. It’s been years since I’ve seen my friend from my junior year Life Skills class. She was a year older than me. She went off to law school, graduated early, and last I heard, moved to California.
I turn around as Zoe and the easy-on-the-eyes guy who sat beside her walk toward me. He’s tall, and broad, with hair the color of cocoa, looking just like he walked off a runway. He’s not from Coeur d’Alene—I’d remember him.
Whew. Zoe’s got good taste.
“Hey, Alice,” my old friend says. She wraps me into a quick hug. “That was quite the show.”
“You mean ceremony?” I ask.
“Whatever you want to call it.” She grins. She’s cut her hair so that it hits right at her chin. She scoops her long bangs behind one ear. “So, how’ve you been?”
“Oh... Great .” I force out a laugh. Maybe Zoe and I can catch up another day. One where I didn’t just attempt—and fail—at breaking up a wedding. “I am great.” Despite the last hour, that’s a fairly honest answer. Sure, I’ve never left Coeur d’Alene, I’m working for my dad, and I spend most of my time cleaning, cooking, and helping my semi-narcissistic mother, Sandra, but I am great . “Just working and… stuff.” There are two seconds of silence between talking, and apparently, it’s too much for me. I shoot two finger guns her way and say, “Hey, I can mend my own pants.” I blow out a breath and laugh like I’m hilarious, when actually I’m delirious.
“You can mend pants?” Her brow narrows, but she’s smiling.
“You know, from Life Skills class? You were a senior. I was a junior. We learned to sew. I said, ‘What will I ever need to sew?’ and Mrs. Martinez said that one day I’d want to know how to mend my pants, and you said, ‘Alice only wears dresses.’ Only by then I’d been wearing pants for four years.” It’s like the words won’t stop. They just spill from my mouth without permission.
Yes, Zoe and I met in Life Skills. We became friends. We learned to sew together. We even hung out a few times. I don’t need to beat the fact to death.
“You’re still in Coeur d’Alene?” she asks, and I’m grateful for the Life Skills out.
“Yeah.” I glance from Zoe to her friend. He’s easy and difficult to look at all at once. Like the sun—beautiful but painful.
It must be an obvious glance because Zoe looks at him too. “Oh! This is Will. We work for the same company. We were traveling this way for work. I talked Will into making a small detour here.”
“That’s nice. You came for Amanda’s wedding.” I didn’t realize they were friends.
“Actually”—Zoe grins—“I came for you. I stopped by your mom’s place. She said you were here.”
Zoe went to my apartment? The one I share with my mother. Oh boy.
“Me?” I blink and peer around the room. Are more of my high school friends going to pop out at me? Did they all come just to see the crazy things Alice Taylor will do in stressful situations?
“Yeah.” Zoe grins—kind and sweet, like none of this is odd. I’m pretty sure it is odd. “I heard that your senior year you switched your intended major from veterinarian school to study marketing. You did, right?”
I swallow. I am utterly confused. Why would she remember that? It’s true. But is it worth Zoe West remembering?
For the majority of my life, I wanted to be a veterinarian, just like Coco. At kindergarten graduation, I told everyone I wanted to be a vegetarian veterinarian when I grew up because I liked playing with animals instead of eating them.
That dream stayed with me a long time. But then, at the last minute, I chose to go to an online school and study marketing so I could move in with my mother. Her boyfriend had just broken up with her, and she was so sad. So lonely. It became insanely clear to me in that pivotal moment of becoming an adult that between Dad, Coco, my siblings, and Coco’s family—my Bailey family—I had so many people to love me, to care for me, to help me never feel alone, while Mom had me. And only me.
I clear my throat, remembering Zoe’s question. “With an emphasis on branding. Yes.”
Zoe’s pretty smile blooms. “Told you,” she says to her friend. Then, turning back to me, her brows bounce. “I told Will all about you.”
“You did?” My brow furrows. Why would she do that?
Zoe’s friend clears his throat. “It’s nice to meet you.” With his eyes fixed on me, he tilts his head. “Uh—nice… dress.”
“Oh.” I titter out a nervous laugh and peer down at the hurricane of tulle I’m wrapped up in. “It’s a bridesmaid dress. I didn’t pick it out.”
Will smirks. “You kind of look like a storybook princess. The princess of panic and party-crashing.”
“Excuse me?” I say, scowling. “I’m not a princess.” The only people who get to call me princess are those who’ve known me my entire life span.
Will looks me over. “But I think you might be.”
I lick my lips and turn back to Zoe. I didn’t stop my exit to talk to this guy—who, you know, isn’t as cute as I thought he was. “So, you made a pit stop for me? I need to go, so…” I nod, letting her know I won’t be hanging out long, not with Will snickering at me like that. So she should probably get on with whyever she’s here.
“Right. Our boss, Billy Baxter—have you heard of him?”
I shake my head.
“He’s in need of a new marketing team member—someone with a specialty in branding would be perfect.”
“Branding?” My ears begin to burn. “Branding what?” While marketing and branding wasn’t my original plan, I am passionate about my job.
“Zoe.” Will tugs on the sleeve of Zoe’s suit jacket. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Billy won’t?—”
“Hush,” Zoe scolds, brushing his hand off her. “I know Billy better than you, and Alice is exactly what he needs.”
“Uhh—” Zoe’s friend groans and scrubs a hand down his face. “Alice,” he says. “How do you feel about soccer?”
“Soccer?” I ask—weren’t we talking about branding? About a job? I don’t know why I’m continuing the conversation. Mom needs me here. There’s a reason I’ve never left Coeur d’Alene. She doesn’t have anyone else and, well, she needs me. I swallow and blink. “As in the sport?”
“Yes, as in the sport. Black-and-white ball. People use their feet to play.” Will crosses his arms over his chest, the front of his dress shirt wrinkling with the action.
“Yeah. I know what it is. But, um…” I do not understand this conversation. Soccer? Who cares about soccer? I shake my head. “I don’t think I have an opinion.”
“No opinion?” His eyes dart to Zoe.
“That doesn’t matter,” she tells him, waving him off.
He scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I think it might.”
I blink and glance from Will to Zoe. “I’m sorry, I feel like I’m missing something.”
“You are. Soccer ,” Will says again, and I hate how accusatory his tone is. What did I ever do to this guy except momentarily think he was handsome? Believe me, the moment is gone.
“Fine.” I think, but only for a second. I’m pretty good at having opinions. I know I can come up with one. “My opinion on soccer… My opinion is that it’s slow and kind of boring. I don’t get the whole Olé! Olé! thing. Why are soccer fans always chanting that? But then I’ve only ever been to one game. It was enough to know I never wanted to go back.”
Will’s hands fist at his sides, and I’m not sure why, but I find his annoyance with me oddly satisfying. “Do you know who Messi is?” he asks.
“Messi? What’s a Messi? Is that supposed to be somebody’s name?” Okay, I might know it’s a name. Context clues—and I’m a smart person. Still, I don’t know who Messi is. Nor do I care.
“This princess , ” Will says, his hand flinging out toward my grape lilac pile of tulle, “isn’t right for the job, Zoe.”
“Excuse me,” I bark. “I’m not a princess. I am so much more than a princess, bud.”
I’m so busy glaring daggers at Will What’s-His-Butt that I don’t notice Uncle Cooper walk up behind me. Not until his hand is on my back and he’s talking.
“Hey, princess. Are you okay?”
Will’s brows wrinkles and his cheeks puff with pent-up air. I can hear his silent laughter in my head.
I swallow and ignore the fact that Cooper just called me princess. He didn’t mean anything by it. All my uncles refer to my childhood nickname from time to time. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Do you want to talk?”
Blinking, I give Uncle Cooper my full attention. “Really, I’m okay. Can I tell you about it later?”
“Sure.” His arm wraps around me and he pulls me into a side squeeze. “Are you heading out? We’re leaving.”
“I am, too—soon.” I grit my teeth. “I just saw an old friend and stopped to chat.” I nod toward Zoe. “I’ll call you. I promise.”
He nods, gives me one more squeeze, and is on his way.
“He’s a little old for you. Isn’t he, princess ?” Will says.
“Will,” Zoe growls.
“I’m just saying. He’s got to be twenty years older than her.”
“Sixteen, actually. And he’s my uncle.”
“Can we get back to business?” Zoe asks. “Listen, Alice, there is a job in Lake Tesoro. Branding and marketing for a new minor league soccer team that’s in development. It pays well, and it comes with an apartment.”
Will shoves both hands into his slack pockets and kicks at the wooden floorboards. “This girl and soccer? No.”
“Billy wants honesty,” Zoe says. “It doesn’t get more forthright than Alice Taylor. You witnessed it firsthand.”
And while I don’t have any details for this supposed job, I’m a bright girl. I’ve been putting pieces together, and I won’t let some hot-shot, testosterone-happy man tell me I’m not fit for a job. “I’m not a veterinarian,” I say, hands on my tulle hips, “but after working on a marketing plan for one of the local vets, she’s almost doubled her business.” I don’t mention that the vet is my stepmom or that she’s amazing at what she does. After being open for twenty years, Coco had me rebrand her logo, ads, and slogan. Her clientele increased by thirty-two percent. Which I realize isn’t doubling, but it’s close. “I don’t need to be an expert at something to learn how to market it.”
He pushes out a cough that says he’s not buying it.
“I’m not some princess who doesn’t know what she’s doing,” I say. This job may have been my second option, but I’m good at it.
“You’re not a princess?” He purposely looks me over—head to toe.
“Alice!” my aunt Annie calls from the other side of this open hall.
“Hey, princess,” Uncle Owen says, reaching me in three easy strides and wrapping me up in a hug. “You’ve had a long day. Annie and the girls are going to a movie. You should go too.”
“You should,” Annie says, right behind him.
I peek out from my uncle’s hold to see Will gawking at me—pleased as punch. “Princess?” he mouths.
I am so tempted to wiggle free from my uncle’s grasp and correct him, but Uncle Owen might be the kindest man on the planet. I just can’t do it. So, I wait until his extra-long hug has ended. “I’m fine. Really. Just trying to do the right thing.”
“Uncle O, this is Zoe and Will. We are all done chatting. I’m headed home now .”
“Hi,” Owen says, smiling at the pair. But he’s quick to turn back to me. “Call Annie if you need to get out. Okay? They’re going to the late show.”
I nod. “I will. I’m fine though. I promise.”
With one more squeeze, Owen leaves.
“How many uncles do you have?” Will asks.
I clear my throat. “A few.”
“Is there somewhere we could go to talk details?” Zoe asks.
As much as I’d like to stick it to Will, I’m not interested. Everything is in Coeur d’Alene. My family, my friends. I’m doing just fine picking up little jobs on my own. I don’t need Zoe’s soccer job or Will’s scowls.
“It’s been a very long day. I’m heading home. I don’t think this would work out. But thanks, Zoe.”
“Text me if you change your mind. I’d love to share all the details with you! I can answer all your questions too! I think you’d love this, Alice. You’d be good at this.” Zoe passes me a business card—a fancy, gold-embossed card.
The princess tulle monstrosity I am currently in doesn’t have any pockets. So, I wrap my fingers around the card, holding tight to the biggest job offer I’ve ever gotten.