39. Paisley
I wakeup to a text from Cecily, sent last night at midnight.
Boss. You sexy thing, you.
Checking the time on my phone, I decide it’s an acceptable time in the morning to send a text message.
Elucidate.
KleinTheWriter is fire.
I haven’t looked at yesterday’s content. I will as soon as I get a chance.
I don’t have to look to know you’re killing it though!
The wedding rehearsalis taking place on the lawn of Nautilus, at precisely the location where tomorrow’s wedding will be held. The hotel’s wedding coordinator, Raelynn, meets us in the lobby. She ushers us outside, where the green lawn overlooks the ocean.
White folding chairs are already set up, as is the square arch. Raelynn informs us the vines and flowers will be wound around the arch in the morning, in an effort to keep them from wilting overnight.
Raelynn claps her hands, ready to get the show on the road. Her eyes search the group, looking for the bride and groom, but coming up empty. “Where’s Shane and Sienna?”
Tag, eyes scanning his phone, holds up one finger. “Shane says they’ll be here in a minute. They had a problem in the parking lot.”
My father sighs audibly and sits down in one of the chairs in the front row.
My mother takes a seat on the opposite side. So much for the guests of the bride on one side and the groom’s on the other.
Shane appears a minute later, holding Sienna in his arms. He strides down the aisle, toward everybody waiting with questions in their eyes.
“I think she rolled her ankle getting out of the golf cart.”
Tag steps out of the group to look it over. “Slightly swollen. Can you put weight on it?”
Shane sets Sienna down gently. She winces as she attempts to set her right foot down. “I can if I have to, but it hurts.”
Tag nods. “Sit down, and put your foot on another chair.” He turns to Raelynn as Sienna follows his instructions. “Can you grab a bag of ice from the hotel?”
She hurries off to do as he’s asked. My eyes find Klein, sitting in the back row. He lifts his chin, acknowledging my look, silently asking what’s wrong with the tug of his eyebrows.
I walk down the aisle toward him. He has one leg folded over the other in a figure four, hands folded in his lap. “What’s going on?” he asks when I get closer.
“Sienna rolled her ankle. She’s resting it and the coordinator went for ice.”
“That’s unfortunate, but at least she’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Klein unhooks his leg and pats his lap. “Sit down.”
I make a show of peering at all the open seats around him. “Are all these chairs unavailable to me?”
“The only place for you”—he widens his arms and glances down—“is right here.”
“Well then,” I say, sinking onto him as if I’m riding sidesaddle, “I guess that’s where I’d better park myself.”
Turning to face him, I wrap one arm around his shoulders and press my free hand to his chest. “How are your posts going? Cecily texted and told me I’m a sexy thing? What was that about?”
A smile slides across Klein’s face. “I’ve been taking all those pictures and adding them to the shared album, but I’m guessing she’s talking about the pictures I took of you sitting at the shoreline with all that sand stuck to your bite-worthy ass.”
“In my teeny bikini?”
He nods once, slowly, lips pushed out.
Leaning in, I place a tiny peck on him. Pouty lips call for kisses. I don’t make the rules.
“I can delete it, if you want me to,” Klein offers. “If you’re not comfortable with her using it. I don’t know that she will, but it’s your call.”
“As long as my face isn’t part of the photo, I’m fine with it.”
Klein’s hands on my back begin to move, kneading at the muscles. “Do you think?—”
“Paisley?” my sister shouts.
I twist around, still holding on to Klein. Sienna looks back at us from her place at the front. Her leg is propped on a seat, and I’m assuming there’s an ice pack on her ankle.
“What?” I ask.
“Can you sub in for me for the rehearsal?”
I frown. Subbing in for my sister means walking down the aisle to Shane. My ex. A man I dislike on a normal day, and have only grown to dislike more as this week has progressed.
Sienna is bracketed by our parents. Behind her stands the bridal party. Every one of them. Shane’s mother. And, of course, the coordinator who is only trying to do her job.
All eyes are on me.
I really don’t want to do this, but if I say no, I’ll look like I have a problem. An issue. People will assume I don’t like Shane. Or I don’t like Sienna. Or that I don’t like Shane and Sienna together. I can’t throw away all my successful ignoring of Shane’s remarks only to fall down in the eleventh hour. I can do this. I can show up for my sister in her time of need.
Again.
After she’s failed to consider how I might feel about the situation.
Again.
Klein’s hands move off my back, like he’s letting me go.
I don’t know if it’s that motion, like he’s assuming I’ll do what’s asked of me when I don’t want to, or if it’s Sienna’s exasperated expression, like she thinks I’m taking too long to comply. Maybe it’s a combination of the two, but here’s what I know for certain: I’m opening my mouth and saying the word. “No.”
So powerful, this word.
No, I will not walk down the aisle to your fiancé who’s been disrespectful of you and me this week.
No, I will not do as you ask simply because you’ve asked and expect me to.
No, I will not be a doormat while you never stop to consider my feelings.
A sizzling energy extends to my fingertips, pride filling my chest.
Sienna’s mouth drops open. “Are you serious?”
Klein’s arms wrap around my waist and he exerts a tiny amount of pressure, just enough to let me know he’s here. He supports me.
“Yes, I’m serious. No, I don’t want to step in for you and walk down the aisle and stand in front of my ex. Why would you ask that of me? There are three other women standing beside you.” I motion to Farhana, Wren, and Maren. All three have mouths agape. “Ask one of them.”
Sienna spends a full five seconds staring at me, stunned, before she turns around slowly and says something to the group. They fall in line, all walking around the set up of chairs and gathering near the back. It’s quiet, awkward, and they shoot me glances I don’t care about enough to decipher.
I press my hands on Klein’s shoulders and push to stand.
“Proud of you,” he murmurs. “That’s my girl.”
His praise causes a flush to spread across my cheeks. His girl. Is that what I am? Klein’s girl?
I wink at him, then join the bridal party. Maren is playing the role of the bride. Raelynn lines us up. I’m second to last, as I should be. She tells us when to go, and I walk with Tag, the best man, down the aisle. Shane catches my eye, so on purpose it’s embarrassing, but his expression startles me. Where I thought I’d find irritation, there is only wonderment.
The rehearsal trips on. Despite the death rays shooting from my sister’s eyes, I’m enormously pleased to not be her stand-in.
The rehearsal dinneris held in the private dining room at The Beach Club. Despite having been placed with the other ladies in the bridal party, I’ve made a space for myself next to Klein. Sienna shoots me a dirty look when she spots me spooning leek and potato soup into my mouth from my place beside Klein. I ignore her.
She’s not happy with me? Well, guess what? I’m not happy with her either at the moment.
Dessert is served, a white and dark chocolate mousse, and coffee for those who’ve requested it. A tray of espresso martinis is delivered to those who forget, or don’t care, that tomorrow is a big day.
Sienna sits, foot propped on Shane’s lap. She’s been icing twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. This is her off time.
Tag looks down the table at me, martini glass raised as if to toast. “Paisley, do you have your maid of honor speech prepared? I’ve got to warn you, mine is spectacular. I plan to show you up.”
Oh. Shit.
The speech.
The speech!
Did it slip my mind, or did my subconscious bury it on purpose? Either way, I don’t have a speech. I don’t even have the beginning of a speech. For that matter, I don’t know that I have a single nice thing to say about the couple.
Klein closes the inches separating us, his lips brushing my ear. “Your face is giving away everything you’re thinking right now.”
I force the panic from my eyes. The irritation from my taut cheekbones.
Lifting my coffee cup in the air, I say with false bravado, “I see your spectacular, and I raise you an outstanding.”
“Good recovery,” Klein murmurs.
Tag winks. “We’ll just have to find out who wins tomorrow, won’t we?” He drinks. I sip my coffee.
Conversation moves on. But Sienna? Her gaze turns shrewd. She knows I’m bullshitting.
Klein dropsSienna and I at the house, sending us a wave on his way out of the driveway. He’s returning to Nautilus to collect the trio of rowdy, drunken groomsmen. And, drunkest of all, the groom.
The hour is late, nearing midnight. The air, thick with the sounds of chatty bugs, takes on an awkwardness now that it’s only the two of us.
“So,” I start, stepping down on the first stair. I have nothing else though. Nothing to say that can have any meaningful impact on the shit show that was this evening. “I’m glad your ankle is better. Do you think you’ll still wear your heels tomorrow? Maybe we could find some fancy flats or sandals if you need?—”
Sienna, one step higher than me and gripping the wooden railing, turns to face me. The light of the moon reflects off her blonde tresses, giving her an ethereal quality. Despite appearing to be at least partially healed, she favors her left foot. “Paisley, we need to talk.”
I nod. “Yes,” I agree. There’s so much I have to say, so much I want to get off my chest. Maybe once that happens, we can work on our relationship. We can improve it, and grow stronger.
“I don’t think you should be a part of the ceremony tomorrow.”
Her statement hangs, suspended in the humid air.
“I... You... What?”
She sighs. “I realize now I never should’ve asked you to be my maid of honor. It was dumb of me.”
Dumb isn’t the word I’d use. Foolish, maybe. Inconsiderate, most definitely.
“Sienna, don’t you think it’s a little late in the game to switch up the batting order?”
“I realize this will throw a wrench in things, yes. But I can’t have you standing beside me if you have feelings for the groom.”
My stare is rock hard, my gaze attempting to penetrate her brain. I’ve never spoken the same language as someone and felt like all the words mean something else to them than they do me.
“You think I’m not over Shane?” Now I’m sputtering.
“You couldn’t even stand in for me during the rehearsal.”
“Because I didn’t want to! Because you never should’ve asked me to be in your wedding in the first place. It’s weird, Sienna. What were you thinking?”
Sienna palms her chest, her head flinching back. “Excuse me for thinking my big sister might like to be a part of my wedding day.”
“With my ex,” I say slowly, incredulous. Is she truly this unaware?
“I thought you were over him.”
“I am over him.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I look up at the starry sky and think about how I was ever with him in the first place. “I’ve been over him for a very long time.”
“Then what’s with you bringing Klein here?”
“Why did I bring my boyfriend to your wedding?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Why did you bring a fake date to my wedding?”
Her chin tips up, so pleased at herself for learning my great big secret.
“How did you know?”
“You’re not even going to deny it?”
I shrug. “What’s the point?”
“One of the women I work with sent his post from today to our group message. I recognized your tattoo in the photo. And then I spiraled into the rest of the account, and couldn’t believe what I saw.”
I stay quiet. What is there to say?
“You must have enlisted Klein in an effort to make Shane jealous. You two are just so... so... hot. All over each other. Watching one another. Whispering and laughing. Klein might want to take up acting.”
“Sienna, I—” Wait. Something about the timing of this is odd. “You knew all this before the rehearsal, yet you asked me to step in for you?”
A smug smile curves her lips. “It was a test. You passed. Or failed, depending on how you look at it.”
I’ve never seen Sienna this devious. It’s like she’s possessed… or desperate. For what, though? “I’m less than interested in Shane.”
“You couldn’t stomach the idea of walking down the aisle and standing next to him. Because you care for him.”
I’m already shaking my head before she finishes speaking.
“Yes, Paisley,” she insists.
Vehemently, I say, “No, Sienna.” Frustration threatens to topple me, and I press the pads of my fingers to my eyes until I see spots. “This is all so stupid, Sienna. You shouldn’t have asked me to be in your wedding. I shouldn’t have agreed. Everything else is details.”
“Details I don’t want.” Sienna steps up to the landing. She makes it to the door before she looks back briefly. Her mouth opens like she’s going to speak. She hesitates. Mouth closes. She walks inside.
I don’t know what to think. What to do.
The reason I’m on the island has vanished.