Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Daphne
L aurel insists on thirty minutes with me to make me over so I look like a bride. Or, as she says, "At least like someone, celebrating something."
Apparently, shorts and tank tops are not appropriate party attire.
Thankfully, Cassie comes with us. We head to Laurel's room, a small space with clothes splayed all over the king bed, and the rest of the crowd heads to the groom's rooms. They've already decorated it for a party, even though we upstaged them.
I take a quick shower, change into clean underwear, and don the fluffy hotel robe.
"I didn't get one of these." I run my fingers over the white terry cloth. "And we're in a suite."
Laurel motions for me to sit in the brown breakfast chair. She has it in front of the mirror, at a forty-five-degree angle, so I'm right in the sun.
I take the seat.
Cassie pulls a chair and sits kitty-corner to me. "Laurel always gets what she wants. A perk of beauty."
Laurel flips her long hair over her shoulder theatrically. "Thanks, Cass." She places her hand under her chin in an exaggerated aren't I cute pose. "But it's not beauty. If it was, you'd get what you want too. Well, if you washed off a little eyeliner. That will work if the clerk has a thing for alt girls. But you know men. A lot of them are scared of girls with tattoos."
Cassie nods that is true .
"Sweet and feminine gives you the best odds."
"You're not sweet," Cassie says.
"Of course not! Why would I ever want to be sweet? I'm playing a part." She looks to the mirror, smiles, bats her eyelashes. "Do you think you could do me a little favor, honey?" Her voice takes on a coquettish tone, as if she's emulating Marilyn Monroe. "I get so chilly after a shower. I'd just love a robe, if you have one."
"Why don't you offer him head for it while you're at it?" Cassie says.
"That's disgusting, Cassie." She grabs a cotton pad and tosses it at her sister. "I would never trade sex for favors. Don't bring me into your role play."
"Oh? Is it not fun to talk about your siblings' sex lives all of a sudden?" Cassie asks.
Laurel shrugs. "Honestly, I don't get why Zack cares."
Cassie and I share a look. Since when does Laurel have a different stance than Zack about anything?
Laurel notices our shock and shakes her head. "You two are too gullible. Zack doesn't believe anything he says either."
"Then why does he say it?" Cassie asks.
"What's it called when a spy is so undercover, they forget who they are? They start to believe they are the person they're pretending to be?" Laurel's voice stays even—neutral—like she isn't bothered by my barb. "That's Zack. He tried so hard to be ridiculous he forgot what he really thought. And now he's always trying to top himself. It's so old. We get it, Zack, sex. Let's move on."
"Sounds like you need to get laid," Cassie says.
Laurel rolls her eyes. "Yes, you're Ms. Sexual Satisfaction now that you have a boyfriend. We get that too."
"Is it not true?" Cassie asks.
"Of course, it's true!" Laurel huffs. "Why do you think I'm so pissed off? It's been weeks! And fucking Romeo keeps looking at me like he doesn't realize he's as big a fuck boy as Romeo fucking Montague."
"You still like him?" Cassie asks.
"I thought you hated him." I bite my tongue. I shouldn't say anything. I should stay out of it. Because I'm not really marrying into the family. Not forever. Only for three weeks. And even if I was, I know better than to offer a practical solution to the problem of a crush.
"Hates that she still loves him," Cassie says.
"I will call Zack," Laurel says. "He's the only person on my side here."
"We don't have to talk about it," Cassie says. "But you're not doing yourself any favors pretending you don't care about him."
"But I don't want to care about him!" Laurel throws her arms in the air. "It doesn't even matter. He'll leave and I won't see him for another two years. So let's talk about something else, yeah?" She doesn't give us a chance to agree or disagree. She charges forward. "Cassie, you know enough to prep Daphne. Can you do the primer and the eye makeup."
"Uh…" Cassie stares at her sister's makeup bag in horror.
"I taught you smoky eye. You've got it." Laurel picks out the cylindrical shades, sets them on the table, looks to the clothes spread over the bed. "You're even taller than Cass. That is a challenge. But I think I can make it work. There's a lot of stretch in this one." She holds up a fit and flare dress in a vibrant shade of pink. "It's not bridal, but it is festive." She switches it for a long purple sundress.
"She's talking to herself at this point." Cassie looks me in the eyes. "She usually does this for a few minutes."
Sure enough, Laurel says something about the difference between indigo and violet directly to the dress. She's already in her own world. She's already forgotten we're here.
"I'm sure she wants the chance to play makeover, but I think, mostly, she wants a reprieve." Cassie watches her sister study a blue tank top. "It's a lot for her, being near Rome. They had something for a while. He ended it, because he didn't want Dad to find out."
"That's a risky move," I say. "She's likely to run to Dad, crying over the breakup."
Cassie nods I know . "Maybe that was an excuse. Him letting her down easy. Maybe it was something else. I don't know. She's barely said anything to me. Rome either. It was his girlfriend, actually." She taps her chin. "I think he was trying to bond with me, because she knew about my whole plan to make Frederick jealous, and she thought I'd see the error in that."
Yes, Cassie asked my brother to play her boyfriend, to win a coveted deal and to make her ex jealous. At the time, she acted as if the latter was a fringe benefit, but I knew it was a primary motive. I nod.
"I think she's the one who's jealous, though. She thinks he still holds a candle for her." Cassie looks to me. "But we should really stick with your news. How's married life?"
"Confusing," I say.
"You seem happier than you did this morning. Or maybe that's the honeymoon sex. No details, please. But no need to deny it either," she says.
"Probably the honeymoon sex, yeah." I motion to the makeup should we?
Cassie nods, sure, and picks a concealer for under my eyes. "Close please."
I close my eyes.
She talks as she applies cream. "Do you want to talk about it?" She dabs cream under my left eye. "Not the sex. The rest of it… anything. I won't judge or freak out, I promise."
I keep my eyes closed. It's easier not looking at her, even though she is close. Too close. There are so many things I haven't said. So many things I need to say. "We talked about it and we're on the same page." I think.
"What page is that?" She finishes with my left eye, then she moves on to shadow.
"We're going to play house for a few weeks. For long enough for him to impress his boss."
"And then?"
My eyes open right as her jaw drops.
"Oh. Of course. Then you start your residency." She presses her palm into her forehead in a duh gesture, then she shakes her head at herself. "It's coming up so fast." She stares into my eyes with equal parts nostalgia and pride. "I'm going to miss you so much. I know you're only in Irvine, but… it's too far. And you'll be working all the time. Shit. I'm a bad friend. I haven't asked enough. Did you find a place near school yet?"
"Not yet." That's true. I haven't found a place in New York yet. I really need to find a place in New York. Because I start in three weeks. And, yes, one of Dad's work friends offered a spare bedroom, but I don't want to live with one of Dad's work friends.
"Do you need any help?" she asks. "We can drive down next weekend. Or anytime next week, really. After we turn in this song on Tuesday, I don't have any deadlines, so I'm flexible."
We can't. Because there's nowhere for me in Orange County. That's not where I'm doing my residency. "I think we're spending the weekend with Jackson's boss."
"And you want a week of wedded bliss. Say no more. Really. No details." She smiles. "Okay. The week after next, I'm yours."
Sure. The week after next, she can help me look online. The week after next, I tell her. I nod. "Perfect."
"So, three weeks of married life, huh?" she asks. "What do you have planned."
"Mostly details you don't want."
She mimes covering her ears. "Damon had the idea to bake and decorate a cake for you."
"He can't bake," I say.
"Or decorate." She nods. "He said you two did it for your parents once. For an anniversary. It was your idea."
"And I did most of it." Not that I can bake. We made a very messy, very imperfect cake, and we left the kitchen a disaster zone. But our parents still loved the gesture. We could do that again. Only the funfetti we used to celebrate Mom and Dad doesn't suit Jackson and me. What would? "Mocha with chocolate frosting. No. Wait. Jackson doesn't really like coffee. What flavors does he like?"
"He likes rich boy flavors. Lemon. Lavender. Orange spice. That kind of thing."
"You know my husband's taste better than I do," I say.
"He's been my brother for my entire life. You'll catch up." She motions for me to close my eyes. When I do, she swipes shadow over them. "Do you really need to remember that? For your three weeks?"
"I guess not."
"It doesn't have to end in three weeks, you know. And I'm not just saying that because I want you to be stuck as my sister, officially."
My eyes blink open.
She meets my gaze. "You both seem happy. Sure, that might be the sex talking, but it wouldn't be so bad if you were happy together. It's not like either of you are going anywhere."
"I have school." I have school three thousand miles away.
"It's not that far," she says. "He could spend weekends with you. Wouldn't it be nice, to have someone to come home to? Someone who can cook and clean and satisfy other needs we don't need to discuss."
It would if things were different. But they're not. There's no sense in wishing they were.
As she finishes, I let myself imagine it. This world where we really are a married couple. Where we support and love each other.
But I can't see us. Only clips from movies. Even in my head, I can't imagine an equal partnership. Only one where I lose myself in someone else's wishes. Where I give up my dreams or he gives up his.
He needs to be here.
I need to be somewhere else.
All the eyeliner and pink cocktail dresses in the world won't change that.