28. A Pacts a Pact
EVA
It’s time to get the private dining patio of the restaurant ready for the rehearsal dinner tonight. I’m here to get going on decorations and manage the different crews.
Skye and I invited Kat to meet us here for lunch, because the servers offered to bring us food while we work. West should be on his way here now as, days ago, he offered to help me. And after everything that happened between us last night, I’m nervous to see him. It’s so weird to be that close with someone—a connecting of the souls—and now we’re back to being buddies and partners in crime. But we agreed to this, so it is what it is.
Entering the patio with the ocean waves as a soundtrack, I start by creating centerpieces that scream “Paige,” which involves flowers but I’m not sure what else yet. West comes in yawning, so I say, “Rough night?” with a grin.
“Something like that.” He smiles, but it’s forced. Then he grabs some fairy lights. “How do you want these strung up?” he says, his voice strained.
“Uh, whimsically?” I bite my lip. That’s weird—he skipped the jokes and chit-chat.
“Whimsical it is.” He grins, but the brightness is dimmed.
No longer in the joking mood, I don’t say anything else, and not another word passes between us until he’s done with the lights. Then he comes over to inspect my floral massacre. “Need a hand?”
“Sure.” My face heats as the awkwardness settles in further. How am I supposed to be normal when he’s being weird?
We fall into a rhythm, his hands steadying the vases while mine arrange the flowers. It should be comfortable. It’s always comfortable. Or it was as two friends working together. Except it’s not that anymore—not since last night when our bodies whispered all the things our lips hadn’t dared to.
“Remember when we built a sandcastle that the tide wiped out before we could finish?” I blurt, desperate for conversation.
West chuckles. “Mother Nature—a heartless bitch.”
“True.” The tension eases a fraction, and I risk a glance at him. He’s focused on the task, his brow furrowed in concentration. Or maybe it’s something else?
“West?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you—I mean, is everything cool?” Do I want him to bring up last night? Or don’t I? I don’t even know what I want. God, this is such a mess, which it’s not supposed to be.
“Just got a lot on my mind.” I miss the warmth in his eyes.
“Good, good. Me too. Lots of wedding stuff.”
“Looks great.” He steps back and leaves me feeling oddly cold despite the balmy air.
“Thanks,” I say, deflated. And it’s not about the flowers. There’s an elephant in the room, and we’re ignoring it. “Let’s just finish up,” I murmur, focusing on the petals and not the palpitations in my chest.
“Yup,” he says, and here we are. A crevasse between us that’s filled with unsaid things and last night’s memories.
I glance up to catch him shoving a hand through his wavy hair, an exasperated sigh punctuating the air.
I can’t take it anymore. “West. You’re a million miles away.”
He gives me a half-smile. “Sorry, just—parent stuff, you know? They’re drowning.” He picks up a ribbon and examines it.
“Has anything gotten worse?” I ask.
“No—it’s the same, just trying to figure out a solution.”
“Adulting sucks.” I attempt levity, but my wobbly voice betrays me. “I’ve got my own family shit. My dad’s retiring from his firm for health reasons.”
“I’m so sorry, Eva. But I’m glad he’s prioritizing his health.” West blinks, his features tightening as he braces for impact. “So. You gotta head to New York?”
“I think so.” My heart contracts so hard I feel like I can barely breathe, and it’s taking everything in me to keep up this facade that everything’s okay.
His gaze darts away, meeting mine again for a brief second, and we’re like crossing comets—drawn together by gravity but destined to fly by without touching. “Eva…” he says, closing his eyes. When he opens them, he finishes, “I got the Groomsman to Groom offer.”
“Oh, wow. Congratulations,” I rush out. Okay, so that’s why he’s being so weird. “That’s great news. You’re now able to really help your parents. And you’re a wonderful son.” I nudge him with my elbow, but he’s like a cardboard cutout version of his usual self.
Family first—a commitment we both share, along with countless other things.
Now it’s his turn to gaze into my eyes. “Our plans. Everything is coming together.”
“It is,” I say, wondering why it feels like it’s all falling apart. I can’t stomach the thought of him kissing and doing God-knows-what with thirty other women.
He blows out a long, jagged breath. “Look—can we put that all aside and just enjoy these moments together? Just us. Doing what we’ve always done, which is having fun with whatever we’re doing?”
“Deal,” I agree, swallowing hard. Translation: these moments are ending, so we better not waste any of them. And if I think too hard about that, I’m going to cry. So I move on, saying, “Last night. It was...” I trail off, searching for a word that doesn’t sound like a goodbye.
“Hot?” he supplies, finally meeting my eye, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Scorching.”
“Absolutely.” He sighs happily. “So, where do these ungodly vases go?” He holds up an ostentatious thing that Paige selected, and I let myself get lost in the simplicity of the question.
“Over by the cabana.” I watch as he nods and sets off on his task. I turn back to my centerpieces, my mind racing. We’ve been fighting our attraction for years, and it’s for good reason. It wasn’t because the stars were misaligned or Mercury was in retrograde. It’s because our responsibilities are worlds apart—his in Georgia, saving sex toys from extinction, and mine in a New York skyscraper.
When the hotel staff, the caterers, and the Bridesmaid to Bride crews arrive to this private dining patio, it’s mayhem, but the kind that’s controlled, so it feels good to be knocking this out. And as always, West and I are back to making a great team, even with the big, awful thing hanging between us. I let him know what the situation with Kat is, and he offers to stay and talk to her with us, which I’m grateful for.
When Kat arrives, the clink of cutlery against porcelain fills the air as the hotel staff sets the tables. They serve our lunch, and I spear a rogue strawberry from my salad, trying to appear casual. West is beside me, demolishing his ham sandwich with a focus that suggests he’s starved, like always.
Skye swirls her mimosa. “Kat, dear,” she says in that airy-fairy voice of hers, “tell us the story of how you and Neil met.”
The question hangs.
Kat flashes a disarming smile. “It’s quite simple, really.” She tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “I ran into Neil at the country club. We got to talking, one thing led to another, and here we are.”
“The country club, huh?” I stab another berry. “Quite the hotspot.”
“Absolutely. It’s where all the best connections happen.” She sounds like she’s narrating a dating-service commercial.
“Connections—like with Zach?” Skye’s tone has bite.
Kat’s smile falters but recovers quickly. “Oh, that was ages ago. A nothing-burger fling, really.”
I nearly choke. “You were together for almost a year.”
West raises a brow. “A nothing-burger that you didn’t take well when it ended.”
She waves a wrist in the air. “I was hurt at first but got over it fast. He was right for ending it—we weren’t meant to be.”
I exhale. “You expect us to believe that you dated Zach and then just happened to start dating my dad, the father of the bride, right before Zach’s wedding?”
“Yeah, kind of.” She shrugs.
“Let’s cut to it, Kat.” Skye swirls her drink again, this time not at all playful. “Neil never mentioned you. Didn’t even RSVP you a spot.”
“Ah, well, you know men.” Kat deflects with a chuckle that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Right…” I draw out the word. “Well, I hope you understand this whole situation is a bit awkward for Paige. It’s her big day, after all.”
“Of course I do,” Kat blurts, too quickly. “And I want nothing but happiness for her and Zach.”
I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Good to hear.”
We continue to nibble at our meals, the tension diffused but still present. I catch West’s eyes for a moment, and there’s a silent agreement between us: Operation Get-To-Know-Kat isn’t over.
“Look, Kat.” I lean in. “Paige has been crying over this. Saturday is supposed to be about her marrying the love of her life, and there’s just so many questions about why you’re here. It’s not fair to her.”
“It’s not fair to Zach either,” West adds.
“Look. I’m really sorry.” Kat’s fingers nervously circle the rim of her water glass. “I didn’t think they’d even care.”
“Then why not give anyone a head’s up?” Skye goes in for the kill.
I rake a hand through my hair, frustration simmering as I watch Kat’s expression crumble like those pupcakes.
“Okay, so I feel awful about this.” Kat’s voice quivers like a violin string. “Neil was just so excited for you and Paige to meet me. He’s been like a kid with a crush. Honestly, I have too.” She looks away, and when she returns her gaze, she reaches across the table as if she could bridge the gap between us with a touch. “Seriously, Eva. There’s nothing between Zach and me anymore. And I told Paige I’m not leaving because Neil and I—well, we’re in love.”
I stifle a gasp. The L-word? Already? No way.
Skye drums her fingers against the tabletop. “If that’s true, why didn’t anyone know you were coming to the wedding?”
“Because,” she trails off, clearing her throat. “Neil was scared. He knows about my past with Zach. He was afraid if he told Paige everything, she’d say I couldn’t come. And he really wants me here.”
Hmm. This is hard for me to believe, as my dad is an upfront person, and he deals with things head on. But right now, I don’t think there’s anything more to say here besides calling Kat a liar, which I will not do. “Okay,” I say, sitting up in my chair. “I understand. But remember, Paige is very jumpy, so please handle her with kid gloves.”
“Understood.” She nods earnestly.
“Good.” I muster a smile.
“Then let’s toast.” West is ever the opportunist. “To new beginnings.”
“And a drama-free weekend ahead.” I clink glasses.
Please.Let there be no more wedding bombs I have to diffuse.