Chapter 18
The last thing I wanted to do was leave Jasper’s room because of an urgent – and completely unnecessary – bridesmaids’ meeting.
The seven of us are crammed into a tiny room in the back of the house, below ground level, surrounded by metal barrels, conduits, and tangled wires.
There’s a pipe dripping in the corner at irregular intervals, and it must be something truly serious because Mila has her Dior sandals placed directly over the muddy puddle forming on the concrete floor beneath the leak.
The place smells stuffy and metallic, kind of like wet rust, and the only sound besides the drops comes from the huge panel that controls the house’s electrical system, making those little pops sometimes fridges make in the middle of the night.
A reddish emergency light reflects onto Mila’s face in a very eerie way when she finally declares, after way too much suspense, “Robbie has another woman.”
And she says it with so much certainty it doesn’t even sound like a suspicion.
It sounds like a simple fact she decided this was the moment to share.
Five pairs of eyes widen around me. I roll mine.
“What do you mean, Mila?” I ask, apparently the only one here with any common sense.
Well, just a few hours ago I was on my knees on the bathroom floor with Jasper’s penis in my mouth, I don’t have any common sense at all, but come on, this is too much even for me.
Mila turns to me, exasperated, like I’m the only person in the room failing to connect the dots.
“Robbie has another woman,” she repeats slowly, apparently unaware that the problem isn’t that I didn’t understand. The problem is that she must be losing her mind. “And you all need to help me find out who she is before I marry that filthy lying bastard!”
“Mila,” I say, just as slowly as she did. “Robbie is obsessed with you. If he had another woman, she would be a statue of you he keeps in a dark room so he can kneel in front of it every night and thank the universe for your existence.”
That gets a few nervous laughs out of the bridesmaids, but Mila remains frozen, her expression even scarier now that the emergency light begins flickering like it has a bad connection.
“You’re not understanding!” Mila snaps, waving dismissively in my direction.
“He’s been acting weird all week, disappearing out of nowhere, whispering with the groomsmen in the corners of the house…
Today he was in the shower when his phone started ringing and he ran out dripping wet to answer it, Julie! Naked!”
I sigh, crossing my arms.
Before I can say anything, Suzi asks, “Is it possible he’s just planning a surprise?”
Mila gives her the same dismissive wave.
“Robbie doesn’t do surprises! He’s boring and predictable. That’s why I’m marrying him.”
“Well, if that’s true, then you have nothing to worry about. No boring and predictable man is having an affair on the week of his own wedding,” Gemma says.
Mila scoffs impatiently. There’s no hope. When my friend gets something into her head, no amount of logic will convince her otherwise.
“And I’m almost sure they went to a strip club last night!”
Flashes of glitter on Jasper’s face fill my mind immediately. Yeah, I am absolutely certain they went to a strip club last night, but it wasn’t exactly forbidden.
We hired Jack the cop to handcuff the bride and give her a lap dance, so no one can complain about glitter stuck to anyone’s face at this point.
“That’s nonsense, Mila!” Victoria says, clearly remembering what we did too. And she takes the chance to recall the rest of the night, specifically the part where the crazy psychic told her to go buy a pregnancy test. “Besides, remember what Madame Ximena told you.”
“Yeah, but she also said Jasper had some sort of feelings, so obviously the old hag had no idea what she was talking about!”
I immediately nod in agreement. Cordelia and I lock eyes.
But I’m ignoring her.
Only for now or forever, who’s to say?
“Well, did you see anyone’s name on his phone? When it rang?” Elise asks, excitedly jumping into Mila’s insane theory.
She doesn’t know Robbie that well. She’s allowed to think this is still possible.
“No. He bought one of those screen protectors that darkens everything from some sketchy shop on the way to the cenotes.”
Goddamn it, Robbie!
Even if I wanted to defend him now, I wouldn’t be able to. First, because I’m out of arguments. Second, because now there’s a buzzing murmur spreading across the stuffy room.
The girls are considering absurd possibilities. Someone says it could be an old fling. Another suggests a gambling problem. Soon they’ll suggest he has a secret family in Scotland or whatever.
“You need to find a way to check his phone and end this doubt,” Gemma says.
“You can’t marry him unless you’re sure, cousin,” Elise adds.
“We’re talking about my brother, you know?” Cordelia mutters.
“Exactly!” Mila exclaims, apparently coming up with another insane idea. “He’s your brother. You need to talk to him, Cordelia! Try to find out what’s going on.” Then she turns to Victoria. “And you can squeeze info out of Brad, right?”
“Are you sure that if he were cheating, the groomsmen would be supporting this insanity?”
“Not all of them,” Mila says to me, “but I saw Jasper arguing with him today under the stairs!”
Cordelia looks at me again.
Unfortunately, so does Mila.
“You’re going to see the DJ with him tomorrow morning, right?”
I am?
Shit, I had completely forgotten.
“I’m not asking Jasper if Robbie is cheating on you, Mila!” I say immediately.
“Why not?”
Do I really need to list the reasons?
“Because I don’t want to talk to him more than absolutely necessary.” Cordelia narrows her eyes. “Because he hates me.” Now her eyes widen, and she tries not to laugh.
“And because he’ll twist everything I ask just so he can torture me for the rest of my life.”
“It’s good to know you’re such a good bridesmaid that you’ll do it for me anyway, isn’t it, Jules?” Mila singsongs, using her usual spoiled rich girl manipulation tricks.
And just like that, I know I’m screwed.
“And what are you going to do, Mila?” I ask.
I want to suggest that she acts like a normal person and talk to Robbie, but I should’ve been clearer because the response she gives is the opposite of anything I expected.
“I’m going to steal his phone, of course.”
I rub my eyes, visibly tired. Oh God, here we go again.
Four days. Four days until my best friend’s wedding with the love of her life. A wedding she’s dreamed of since their first date, disastrous as it was, in that sketchy bar in Harlem. A wedding she’s already spent a small fortune on plane tickets and flower arrangements.
Four days until the most important moment of her and Robbie’s last ten years.
And they’re about to have a huge fight.
The bridesmaids are developing plans to extract information from the groomsmen while simultaneously deciding the best way to discover Robbie’s phone password without him noticing.
Gemma promised she’d stalk him all through dinner tonight.
Elise suggested we get Madame Ximena’s tea again to knock him out so Mila can unlock his phone while he’s asleep.
I do understand the concern, I swear, because Robbie really isn’t helping himself. But Mila spent years bragging that she and Robbie trusted each other blindly and didn’t need to know each other’s passwords or any of that stuff suspicious couples do.
And now she’s ready to throw everything away because she turned into a full-on deranged bridezilla.
Obviously, dinner starts falling apart before the main course is even served. We start with wine and cheese, and now Mila is sitting beside Robbie with a fake, tense smile so strained I can see the muscles in her neck tightening from across the room.
Gemma keeps walking behind them, carrying out her espionage mission to catch him typing his password. Elise is overdoing the small talk, trying to lead conversation toward anything suspicious.
“So, Robbie, how has your last month as a single man been?” she asks sweetly, sipping her wine.
Robbie just smiles back, completely oblivious, unaware he’s walking straight into a trap.
“I haven’t known what that is for ten years, Elise.”
“Yeah, but now you’re actually getting married…” she insists. “Before, you had much more freedom.”
“With Mila?” Robbie bursts into laughter.
My friend sighs impatiently, burying her face in her wine glass as she realizes this is going nowhere.
Still, Victoria is glued to Brad, and Cordelia is analyzing every tiny expression Tony makes like a CIA agent in a top-secret mission, hunting for suspicious words or glances between him and Robbie.
When Mila tries to snag Robbie’s phone from his front pocket, then pretends she’s rubbing his thigh in a way that is deeply inappropriate for a family dinner, I feel certain someone will throw a full glass of wine at someone else before dessert.
Still, I refuse to take part in this circus, no matter what. At this point in my life, I cannot question, investigate, or judge anyone hiding secrets from Mila.
I mean, look at me! Hiding in the kitchen, wine glass in hand, watching the chaos and deliberately ignoring Jasper’s presence right beside me on the counter.
I can’t be the one investigating lies when I am the biggest liar of them all.
Pretending Jasper and I still hate each other with the intensity of a thousand volcanoes (not sure that’s even pretending, we probably do still hate each other).
Pretending I was not, in any way, in his bed all afternoon.
Pretending his presence next to me doesn’t do anything to my body, my mind, and my lady parts.
Pretending, pretending, pretending to everyone.
Including myself.
“What’s going on?” he asks, in the same tone he uses every time he wants to talk to me in public but not exactly to insult me: low voice, barely moving lips, pretending he’s distracted by something that isn't me.
I glance up quickly to gauge his tone. His eyes are scanning the room, so it’s easy to tell he’s already noticed something strange in the air.