Chapter 35 Liv
LIV
Iput my laptop on the corner table and hang my blazer over the back of my chair.
This used to be my go-to place but I'm not sure how I feel about it anymore.
I'm in the same place where this whole mess started and now all I can think about is Blair.
I refuse to let one fraud ruin my favorite caffeine sanctuary though, and Jake behind the counter starts making my regular order before I even reach the register.
“I haven’t seen you in a while," he says.
"Yeah, I've been busy." I slide my credit card across the counter.
"Rough day? You've got that look."
"Just the usual chaos," I say, managing a tight smile. "I have a lot going on."
"Well, you came to the right place." He hands me the card back. "Ten minutes with a good coffee can turn just about anything around."
I wish that were true.
I sit at my table and pull out my phone. Seventeen new messages since I left the office an hour ago, including two from potential clients, one vendor confirmation, and a few to-do reminders from Sophie.
The chaos of crisis management should feel overwhelming, but to me it's oddly comforting.
This is what I'm good at—fixing the unfixable, making the impossible happen, turning disasters into triumphs.
Unlike relationships, work has clear parameters.
You deliver, clients pay handsomely, everyone's happy.
No mysterious helicopters, no false identities, no emotional minefields disguised as romance.
My phone buzzes with another text from Sophie: Florist confirmed for next week’s event. Caterer wants to discuss menu changes. Should I handle or wait for you?
I type back quickly: Handle it. You know my standards.
Three dots appear immediately, then: Consider it done, Boss.
Jake delivers my latte with a nod, and I take a sip while opening my laptop. The Bolton-Martinez wedding budget spreadsheet loads, and I start reviewing line items. Florals are running over budget by two thousand, but I can offset that by negotiating down the linens.
My phone lights up again—Emma's name flashing across the screen. That makes twelve calls from her in the past week, not counting the texts. I've been sending brief responses to let her know I’m okay, but actual conversation? I’m not ready for that.
I let it ring.
The door opens and my eyes shift toward it before I can stop myself. A woman in workout clothes walks in, ponytail swinging. Wrong height. Wrong build. Wrong person entirely.
I look back at my screen, annoyed with myself. What am I doing? Waiting for someone I don’t even want to see?
My phone immediately starts ringing again. Emma. She's persistent; I'll give her that.
I stare at her name on the screen. She's on her honeymoon in Hawaii right now, should be lying on a beach with David, completely blissed out. Instead she's calling her disaster of an older sister over and over because I've been too much of a coward to actually talk to her.
I can't keep avoiding this; I don’t want to ruin her honeymoon.
I swipe to answer. "Hi, Em."
"Finally!" Emma sounds relieved. "Liv, I've been trying to reach you for a week. A whole week. All I get back are these short messages—'I'm fine,' 'Just busy,' 'Talk soon'—like I'm some client you're brushing off. What the hell is going on?"
"I'm sorry." I wrap my hand around my coffee cup, needing something to hold onto. "I didn't mean to worry you. I've just been slammed with work and—"
"Stop. Just stop with the work excuse." Emma's tone softens slightly. "I know you, Liv. You're hiding. You've been hiding since you ran out of that brunch and flew back home without saying goodbye. So please, just tell me what happened."
"How's Hawaii?" I ask, deflecting. "How's the honeymoon?"
"Liv—"
"Please, Em. Just tell me about Hawaii. I need to hear something good right now."
She clears her throat. "Okay… Well, it's beautiful. The water is this insane shade of blue and we've been snorkeling and hiking and eating way too much poke." She pauses. "But I'm worried about my sister who disappeared without an explanation."
"I'm fine," I say, but my voice betrays me with a slight crack.
"You're not. This is about Sailor, isn't it?" Emma's voice loses its edge, going gentle. "What happened, Liv? She suddenly took off in a helicopter and then you vanished too."
I take a breath, then another. A knot forms in my throat and I have to swallow past it. Come on now. Don’t get emotional. Not over a stranger.
"Her name is Blair Davis," I say finally. "And nothing she told me was true. I mean, nothing I told you about her was true either; I made her up."
“But… What?” Emma pauses. “But she was there.”
“Yeah. I hired her as my fake girlfriend to bring to the wedding. Sailor wasn’t real. I made her up.” I shake my head. “I feel so stupid, Em. For lying to you and Mom and Dad. That was unforgivable.”
Emma is quiet for a while, clearly confused. "That doesn't make sense though. The way she looked at you, the way you looked at each other…"
“That wasn’t part of the act. Not all of it, anyway.” I blow out my cheeks. “I fell for her. I slept with her. She knew everything about me. I gave her a whole file of my life, my history, my fears. I even told her about Andy. And then I found out that she wasn’t who I thought she was.”
A tear slides down my cheek and I wipe it away, hoping no one noticed. I hate that I’m getting emotional over Blair. I hate that in the short amount of time we spent together, I somehow let her in.
"I hired a stranger to pretend to love me and then I actually started to believe it was real. What does that say about me? I'm the wedding planner who doesn't believe in love, and I fell for a fantasy anyway. I’m pathetic."
"You’re not pathetic, Liv. Yes, it’s a weird thing to do and I’m not sure how I feel about you lying to me and bringing a total stranger to my wedding but…
." Emma sighs. “Why did you lie? Why did you tell me you had a girlfriend named Sailor? I mean, if you’re cooking up a fake girlfriend, at least give her a normal name.” She lets out a chuckle, releasing some of the tension between us.
“It’s a long story. We can talk when you’re back but not right now. Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”
"Look, I'm not going to pretend this doesn't hurt," Emma says. “I’ll call you when we’re back and we can talk more, okay?” She pauses. “But Liv? I love you. And I want you to be happy. Actually happy, not just busy enough to avoid being sad."
"I love you too, and I’ll be fine. Enjoy your honeymoon and stop worrying about me."
"Can't promise that. You're my sister."
We hang up and I sit there, staring at my dark laptop screen. At least the truth is out now. Maybe that means I can put it behind me and stop thinking about Blair. Because I don’t want to think about her ever again.