15. Jeanie
15 /
jeanie
Mayhem of Honor
Dex, Freddie, Mom, her new boy toy, George, and I sit at a table eating breakfast the next morning under the shade of a palm tree. My floppy hat shields my face where the proof of a hangover lingers. This past week has included more alcohol than I’ve drank in my entire life.
Across the pool deck, Sophia hosts a brunch under a tent for her guests. Somehow, I’ve managed to fly under her radar, but that’s not the case with Roman. When he spots me, he leaves the gathering and beelines in our direction.
Unsure of what kind of storm he’ll bring, I slip on my sunglasses as if they’ll protect me. I’m not up for his crap today.
“You’re dating a stripper!” Roman yells when he reaches our table.
Mom spits out her drink. Tomato juice spews across George’s white guayabera. He stands with napkin in hand, dabbing at the red stains .
I’m not sure why she’s reacting this way. Isn’t this what she read online about Nathan?
“Nathan’s a stripper?” Dex’s fork halts in midair.
Freddie dances in his chair. “Could he teach me some moves?”
Our waiter places a drink in front of me.
Automatically, I say, “Oh, I didn’t order a?—”
“A mango milkshake sent from the gentleman at the bar.”
Everyone follows the direction of the waiter’s outstretched hand. On the other side of the pool deck, wearing what seems to be his signature surfer-boy outfit and a straw hat, Nathan waves.
With a grin on my face, I lift my milkshake and toast him.
Roman’s face drains of blood.
“You think dating a stripper is funny?” Roman asks, his hands waving.
I take a sip, thoughts of the previous night tickling my mind.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lean back, completely relaxed and unbothered.
Nathan was right. The more I enjoy myself, the more unraveled Roman becomes. I vow to continue on this path. It’s working.
“Do you really expect me to believe you’re dating that guy?” Roman gestures in Nathan’s direction.
“Jealous?” I grin and bite my straw.
Perhaps sensing I need him, Nathan appears.
“Hey, man, wild bachelorette party last night. Sorry you missed it.” He grasps Roman’s shoulder and gives it a friendly shake.
Roman scoffs as Nathan beams. He’s come to stir the pot. I read his intentions in his sly, malice-laced expression.
He slides behind me, sweeps my hair aside, and places a warm kiss on my shoulder near my clavicle. A detonation of tingles spread from the point of contact down my arm. My knee bounces under the table to dispel the shivers.
Everyone at the table analyzes us with rapt attention.
I do my best not to react, like a man kissing my neck in such a sensual way is normal. It is not, because the number of times a man has kissed me anywhere near that spot is zero. Never. Nathan is good at highlighting little things I’ve missed out on.
Then I stop myself before I head down this road of thought. It’s too easy to get lost in our spicy charade.
“You were saying?” I say, provoking Roman, and his hands curl into tight balls at his sides.
Nathan settles beside me and steals food from my plate. He takes a bite of toast and kicks back casually in his chair as if he’s completely comfortable with the family. He should win an Oscar for his acting abilities. I place a hand on his knee, and like a call to action, he leans closer.
“How’s your milkshake?” Nathan whispers. His nose brushes the shell of my ear while his warm breath caresses my skin.
It prickles, and I scrunch my shoulder.
“Delicious,” I whisper back .
“I’ll bet it is.”
We snicker at our private joke. My milkshake is so much better after last night’s lap dance, and Nathan barely touched me. I press my toes into the floor and lift my heels.
“Can I speak to you? Alone?” Roman barks and then stomps away.
I sigh, my shoulders wilting.
Should I bother? Avoiding Roman is working so much better than chasing him. But if I’m going to bring my family back together, I have to stay on task. They are what’s most important. My chair scrapes the deck as I rise.
“I’ll be right back,” I say as I shake my head. I was enjoying a nice breakfast with Mom and the boys. If Roman wanted, he could have sat down and been civil.
Mom and Freddie press Nathan for details about the bachelorette party as I leave.
I join Roman near the back of the brunch tent. Up front, Sophia is giving a speech over a microphone. A wall of sunflowers serves as her backdrop. Her bright white eyelet dress and refreshed demeanor are a far cry from last night’s drunk and bedraggled state.
“You’ve made your point, but now it’s time for you to leave.” Roman signals in the direction of Chicago.
“What was my point?” I stab a hand onto my hip.
“I said you’d never get over me, and it’s clear you have. Mission accomplished. Now, go back home so I can get married in peace.” He makes a shooing gesture.
So, Roman brought me over here to have a one-sided conversation. I don’t think so. I’m about to tell him where he can go when the sound of amplified crying halts our chat. Like parents have been trained to do, Roman and I turn our attention to the noise.
In front of everyone, Sophia melts into full-on tears mode, a trembling hand clenching her microphone. Iris and Elsie rise from their seats to rescue her with a hug. With them at her side, Sophia pulls it together to continue her speech.
“My dearest college friend, Natasha, can’t be here, but my big sister, Jeanie, is.” Sophia nods in my direction, and everyone’s gaze follows. I wave timidly because I’m unsure where this highly inaccurate group introduction is headed.
We’re not sisters! Gah!
“Last night at the bachelorette party,” she says, “I was so sad about Natasha, but Jeanie made sure I had a great time. Then, because she’s so amazing, she offered to take Natasha’s place and be my maid of honor!”
What? My eyes widen to the size of beach balls. This announcement is so unexpected, I can’t even focus on her proclamation to everyone that I’m her big sister.
The bridesmaids rise from their seats with excitement and cheer. I clench my teeth and wave like I’ve won a beauty pageant, even though I can’t recall this important, plan-altering conversation. To be fair, though, some parts of the night are hazy.
I take a deep breath, letting this new development sink in.
If Roman weren’t staring at me with fishing spears in his eyes, I would loathe this turn of events, but now? The timing is kiss-my-fingertips superb. He wants me gone, and Sophia wants me to stay. One successful wedge has been planted between them.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” I say to Roman, returning to our conversation with a victorious grin.
Roman grunts and stomps in a circle like he’s looking for someplace safe to land.
News flash! There isn’t one.
After Sophia finishes her speech, she joins us. Forgoing Roman, she instead loops her arms around my shoulders.
“You’re the best maid of honor ever!” She kisses my cheek.
“Always here for you, Fifi.” I use this nickname like bait on a hook. As she hugs me, I shoot Roman a prizewinning glare.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Roman asks Sophia.
“Why not?” She appears caught off guard.
“Why not? Why not!”
His voice rises so sharply that everyone turns to see his mini outburst. He quickly reins himself in and presses praying hands to his lips, like they will contain his building frustration.
The Roman volcano will erupt eventually.
“Don’t you want to make your bride-to-be happy?” I drive in another nail, then nudge Sophia’s shoulder like I’m on her side.
Roman lowers his voice. “This has disaster written all over it.”
“She’s my new best friend, don’t say that!” Sophia says fiercely, defending me .
From maid of honor to best friend? My lip quirks. I’m climbing the ranks quickly.
Now that Sophia believes I’m with Nathan, she’s blissfully unaware I’m a threat. She’s so accepting, she doesn’t see what’s transpiring. In her own way, Sophia’s focused on the same thing as me, being one big happy family. Except in my family, she’s about to become a virginal offering to the sea gods.
Roman’s nostrils flare. He’s still searching for a way out of this.
“Fine,” he barks out like a cornered dog.
“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Sophia baby-talks as she leans over to stroke his tummy.
I bite the inside of my cheek as her arm slips from my shoulder and she crosses the divide to embrace him. When he softens at her touch, my jealousy flames anew. I scratch my neck, suddenly feeling itchy.
Though it’s hard, I keep my expression light as they rub noses. My willpower caves when she nips his bottom lip. I close my eyes momentarily and mentally repeat my new mantra.
Remain chill.
“You two.” I toss a hand at them like I’m saying stop being so cute .
With everything settled, I turn away, let out a big breath, and cross the patio. The knots in my stomach remind me this is part of the plan. I have to pretend I’m okay with their relationship.
Mom and the kids have finished breakfast when I return to the table. They’re standing up to leave as I sit beside Nathan. He’s ordered more food .
“Maid of honor.” Nathan slowly claps.
“Yes, bravo.” Mom’s telegraphing a message. You’re the villain now!
“Where are you guys headed?” I ask Mom and George, noting that the boys have already jumped into the pool.
“George is taking me to Ecstasy Island. Sounds dirty, doesn’t it?” she purrs near his ear.
“Ecstasy first. We play with fire later,” he says in a sultry voice.
George offers his arm, and she curls into him as they stroll away.
When they’re gone, Nathan continues our conversation.
“You’re an evil genius. You weaseled yourself into the wedding party in under twenty-four hours.”
“I’ve got a great life coach. He taught me all I know about sabotaging weddings.”
“Don’t say that in your review. I prefer to keep my business on the up-and-up.” He spears an avocado slice with his fork.
I chuckle. “The devil has nothing on you.”
After last night, I want to ask Nathan if he really wants to be a life coach, but at this point, I’m not sure I care. He is supportive, yet highly amoral, and those are two characteristics I need right now.
I let my curiosity slide. This alliance, no matter how fake, is something I’m desperate for.
“Your mom’s fierce,” Nathan says between bites of his omelet.
“One day I’ll be as brave and confident.” I place my elbows on the table and lean my chin on my knuckles. Two colorful birds chase each other in the branches above.
“You’re all of her and more.”
“You’re just working on your positive reviews.” I say, amused.
He quirks a brow at me. “Like there’d be anything but positive reviews.”
I shove his shoulder.
When his attention returns to his plate, I let my gaze roam his body. His flamingo-patterned shirt flutters open in the ocean breeze, giving me glimpses of his chiseled abs and chest. The edge of his tattoo peeks out, though I’m still unsure of the design.
At the club last night, it was the last thing I was focused on. But now? I’d pray for a hurricane to blow off his clothes, so I could see it clearly.
But only out of curiosity—right? Sure, let’s go with that.
I readjust in my seat, ignoring the unscratched itch between my legs.
“You neglected to tell me you graduated from the Magic Mike School of Dance,” I say as I play with the little umbrella in my milkshake.
“I’m the headmaster. Be good or I’ll put you in detention.” He flashes me with a wicked glint that suggests he might do it if I asked.
Suddenly, I feel too warm. I take a big sip of my milkshake and only stop when I’ve achieved a massive brain freeze.
“You didn’t seem surprised to see me,” I say, and he faces me .
“I was, actually. Best surprise ever.”
“You’re talented.” My voice pitches higher as I remember him hovering above me while I was wishing he was in me.
“Glad you enjoyed yourself.” Nathan winks.
When my face heats, I glance around, searching for a change in subject.
I find Dex and Freddie have switched gears. They’re floating on inner tubes while chatting up two girls.
“Wow. I’ve never seen Dex talk to a girl before.” I lift my chin in their direction.
“Hope you don’t mind, but the boys asked me for some pointers on how to talk to girls.”
I raise an eyebrow back. “Are you life-coaching my kid too?”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I do what I do.”
“Speaking of, I appreciate you encouraging Dex last night, even though his homemade tie was a little strange.”
“The imperfections made the tie cool and beautiful.” Nathan relaxes into his chair and people-watches.
I’m not sure why, but I look down at myself, taking in my C-section scar peeking out from beneath my beach wrap and a constellation of sunspots on my skin. A forbidden part of me wishes Nathan would find me beautiful and cool too. As if.
I clear my throat when I remember my newest problem.
“You going to be around for a few days? Looks like I’ve been promoted to mayhem of honor, and I need a fake date for the week.”