Chapter 29
I do what Jasper said, and, when I appear in the middle of the room, holding a glass with just a tiny shot of Champagne I grabbed from the first counter I passed by, the rim smeared with lipstick that isn’t mine, it’s like it’s been there forever.
Chatting with the guests.
Attacking the tray of canapés, because damn, the day was long and sex apparently makes you super hungry. I’d forgotten that little detail until this trip.
“Thank God you’re feeling better!” Mila surprises me, and I almost choke on my toast.
I squint at her, trying to understand. Was I sick?
“Robbie told me you had diarrhea,” she explains.
And I just stare at her, still with my mouth full, unable to curse anyone.
Robbie, you jerk! “That you got sick because Jasper made you eat some suspicious burritos at the side of the road on the way to Mérida since he didn’t want to pay for lunch, that cheap jerk! ”
I almost choke again.
I guess this is part of Jasper’s reputation. You can make up anything about him, and no one questions it.
“Yeah, I managed to get it all out,” I say, rubbing the pit of my stomach.
I’m not lying, I feel terrible. Just thinking about hiding all this from her makes me nauseous. Mila deserves to know what’s going on.
I don’t even know what’s going on.
“Well, I guess you’ll be happy he won’t be walking with you down the aisle tomorrow,” she says.
“He won’t?”
“I figured you deserved some rest, so I reorganized everyone and paired him with Suzi.” Did she? “Your partner now will be Andrew.”
“For the dance too?” I ask, remembering that both today and tomorrow, the groomsmen and bridesmaids will join the couple after the dance.
“For the dance too!” She says. “You can thank me later.”
Here’s my friend, pitying me all over again. And here I am, powerless to do anything but accept what she decided. Unable to tell her it’s the worst idea ever and that the one thing I was really hoping for tonight was to be forced to dance with Jasper.
Because if it’s mandatory, fine. But if it’s voluntary, we can’t.
Jasper will dance with Suzi, not me.
He’ll walk down the aisle tomorrow with Suzi, not me.
And Mila thinks she’s doing me a favor.
“And after all this is over, we’ll find a much better job for you, okay?” she consoles me. “A job so good, you’ll thank that bald old man for forcing you to quit!”
I want to tell her about this too. Explain my plans… but to do that, I’d have to mention Brock Magnus and our night in jail. Maybe Jasper and the cenote as well, and Mila can’t hear anything about that yet.
For the sake of her wedding.
For everyone’s sanity, the only focus until tomorrow is making it to the point where the groom can safely kiss the bride.
To do that, we’ll have to survive the rehearsal dinner first, so I tell Mila it’s fine (for the millionth time) and that we’ll talk about it later. When we’re in New York. While having brunch with Mimosas in SoHo.
Then we follow the evening’s schedule.
The house’s outdoor area has been transformed into a very elegant space.
The tableware is a radioactive blue, contrasting with earthy-toned napkins.
Arrangements are made with tropical plants instead of flowers, and the whole garden is surrounded by warm yellow lights, almost like our own Mexican cenote, right here by the beach.
The bar is an endless fountain of Champagne and wine, and the menu is impeccable, a mix of fancy wedding food and traditional Mexican cuisine.
Mini cheese and wild mushroom empanadas, shrimp in lime sauce, generous portions of shredded cochinita pibil in artisanal tortillas, served with fresh guacamole.
The groomsmen deliver a welcome speech full of double entendres, of course, but it gets genuine laughs from the guests, so it’s all good.
The bridesmaids and I go over the wedding information for tomorrow, including ceremony time, menu details, and the classic message for all the aunts and grandmas: please don’t take the table arrangements home!
Doesn’t matter if they’re rich and sophisticated. When it comes to pretty decorations, grandmas suddenly have incredibly light hands.
Next, Mila and Robbie take the stage to thank everyone, and the clinking of glasses echoes across the garden during the toast. The violinist then starts the chords to Everything, and Robbie extends his hand to Mila so they can begin the dance.
It’s the rehearsal for their couple’s dance. The same steps they’ve been learning since they picked the date because Robbie seems to have two left feet and is terrible at even coordinating a simple two-step.
Of course, the real dance won’t have the violinist, it’ll be Boyce Avenue, but Mila doesn’t know that. She thinks it’ll be a trio of Mexican singers who, after this part, will change outfits to perform Mariachi.
The violinist is definitely Mexican, and despite being talented, probably doesn’t speak a word of English, because the next song is the one he was rehearsing while Jasper was fully inside me and I was coming on top of him.
Dancing with a Stranger.
Not exactly the right song for a wedding rehearsal dinner, but maybe the perfect song for me today.
Not that Andrew is a stranger, because he leads me with light steps and we seem perfectly comfortable side by side. The real problem here is Jasper.
Jasper dancing with Suzi.
Suzi with her mermaid body and dark hair falling in full waves over her shoulders. Suzi in a tight dress with the same cough syrup shade as mine, perfectly chosen to match her sun-kissed skin. Suzi with a smile that keeps showing her flawless white teeth.
Simply because she can’t stop laughing.
Even when the song ends and we all return to the party, the two keep talking on the way to the bar.
I watch when he asks what she wants to drink and then places the order with the waiter. I watch when she touches his arm and says something that makes Jasper laugh.
Completely carefree. Jasper Hassmann! Is he fucking serious?
Since when does he go around with carefree little laughs while talking to people? All he does is roll his eyes and look bored.
Or maybe he only does that with me.
I don’t even know anymore.
I try to focus on something else to avoid thinking about it.
On Mila’s parents, Lianne and Gus, still on the dance floor, holding each other, looking as in love as if it were their first year together.
On Aunt Abby, already all over the hot bartender serving her Champagne.
The guy could easily be her son, but Aunt Abby knows how to handle herself. And she always gets what she wants.
I go from her to Uncle Henry, tequila bottle in hand, going from table to table inviting everyone to take a shot.
The bartender puts two glasses on the counter. There was no need to hand her the glass, but that’s exactly what Jasper does. He grabs the damn glass and places it in her hand, before taking his own.
I’m not jealous. I repeat that to myself a million times, trying to see if words really have power or if it’s just motivational coach nonsense.
I’m not jealous.
Suzi smiles from ear to ear, and I start doubting if her face will ever go back to normal.
I’m not jealous, and it’s not killing me that he’s there, talking, calm, happy, like nothing happened. Like he can’t even taste me in his mouth anymore.
I’m not jealous, and there’s no voice in my head begging him to look at me, to talk to me, to give me a smile, a kiss in front of everyone… like a desperate idiot.
And of course, Jasper does none of that.
The most he does is occasionally glance around, as if looking for something, his lips tightening in a contained smile whenever he catches me.
But then he returns to Suzi and the groomsmen, and apparently to a very interesting conversation with Robbie’s rich uncle.
I wish I could stay calm, I swear, but I haven’t been calm since Mila told me she switched the dance partners, so you can’t imagine how I feel when she shows up a few hours later to say she needs me to rearrange the seats of the wedding party’s table for tomorrow.
“You need me to do what?” My eyes widen in pure shock.
Mila? Making last-minute changes before the wedding? I almost went insane getting everyone’s seats ready before the week even started.
I rub my head, tired, because I’m almost sure I misunderstood something, and now I have to work to figure out what’s really happening.
I don’t have the energy for this.
“What are you talking about, Mila? You don’t make last-minute changes.”
“I know, but it’s just this one, I promise!”
“Are you sick? Is someone blackmailing you?”
I almost check her temperature with the back of my hand, just to be sure.
“It’s not for me, it’s for Suzi,” she lowers her voice, like she’s about to gossip. “She spent hours talking to Jasper today, and I think they have a thing going on.”
“A thing?” I repeat, because that’s all that comes out of my mouth. “You think they have a thing going on?”
“Well, she thinks so too,” Mila shrugs. “Didn’t you see them dancing? Everyone thinks there’s a thing going on.”
If she says that word one more time, I’m gonna puke.
Just hearing it feels like a punch to my stomach.
I saw them dance. I was there too. Saw the smiles, heard the laughter. Saw his hand on her waist the entire song.
“She said they spent a long time talking about her work,” Mila continues the gossip.
Suzi is a wellness consultant for companies in New York. You know those meditation classes you’re forced to do in the morning at work, which aren’t that bad because you lose twenty minutes of work just stretching or doing breathing exercises and corporate wellness dynamics? That’s her.
“She was explaining how she wants to trademark her own brand to get bigger contracts, and he offered to help, asked her to send the project contract for him to review, said they could meet in New York to talk about it if she wants. She kept saying how…,” my friend makes a grossed out face, “attentive he is. Jasper isn’t attentive to anyone. They definitely have a thing going on!”
Yeah, and I’m definitely going to puke.