30. The Eventful Night
EVA
The clinking of silverware and laughter fill the air during dinner, and I navigate around the tables, a practiced smile plastered on my face. I ensure every guest has what they need—a refill, a napkin, or just an ear to listen to their third retelling of “When I met the happy couple.”
When most everyone has finished eating, I signal the servers to bring out my surprise. Then I say, “Excuse me,” although no one’s paying attention. They’re too busy chattering and having a great time, which is a good thing.
“Okay, everyone!” I yell, flashing my most convincing grin. “Get ready. A special dessert is being served.”
With the patio’s chatter lulled into silence, the server brings out the pièce de resistance, I can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. It’s my surprise, my gift, and a piece of my heart and soul.
“Behold,” the server announces, holding up my dessert. “Made especially for the bride and groom.”
There, in all its edible detail, is a chocolate statue of Coco Chanel, Balls, and Dior—the canine bridal party. I carved each pup with careful precision so they’d look like they were about to leap off the plate and lick your face, and I hope I pulled it off. Coco wears her signature pearl collar, Balls is sporting a teeny bow tie, and Dior, well, she looks as mustardy as ever in her bridesmaid gown.
A collective gasp rises from the crowd, followed by the swell of applause. My heart does a little victory dance.
“Holy shit, Eva,” West says.
“Thanks.” I flash him a smile.
“You did this yourself, Eva?” Kat asks, awe dripping from her words.
Paige’s eyes light up like sparklers as she gets out of her seat to come study my craft work. “Holy shitballs, Eva! Is that—?” She swallows hard, her voice wobbly when she says, “My babies?” Tears mist in her eyes.
“Yes.” I smile. And for a moment, everything’s perfect.
It’s a rush, being the one everyone leans on, the fixer, the doer, the dessert magician. But beneath the adrenaline, there’s a whisper of longing to feel good enough but never quite getting there.
“I don’t have words,” Paige gushes, eying the statues with reverence. The rest of the room echoes her sentiment, forks clinking against glass in a symphony. “Best. Sister. Ever,” she says, the words punctuated by clicks of her camera phone from every angle. Her face blooms with joy, like she’s just been proposed to all over again.
I feel West on my back again, and I flip around. He leans into me and whispers, “This is legit the most incredible chocolate statue I’ve ever seen. So… is it bad that I want to melt that chocolate, lather it over your naked body, and lick it off?”
Tingles zing my entire body, and I’m urging my jaw to stay put. I lick my lips before I compose myself and say, “I can’t think of a better way to enjoy this dessert.”
Our eyes lock, and I’m feeling all the emotions of the past few days come rushing through me at once. West always has this way of making me feel like I’m the only person in the room.
I see Foster out of the corner of my eye, and the moment is cleaved in half. I blurt, “Cheers to chocolate victories.” I lift an invisible glass to the ever-present understanding that hangs between West and me. And for a second, I let myself imagine what it would be like if he were the one by my side, sharing the load.
“Bravo, Eva.” Skye raises her glass, and I flash her a smile.
Now Foster’s standing off to the side, nursing his drink and studying the chocolate pups. Typical Foster, probably contemplating the legal complexities of serving a homemade dessert at a public venue. Yes, I have all my permits, Foster.
As my canine confection disappears, the room’s buzz shifts to tipsy chatter, and the ocean is showing off, all shimmer and whisper.
When Zach and Paige leave for their couple’s massage, I call it a successful night, feeling good because the wedding saboteur did not strike. I can’t help but think it was our talk with Kat that solved things.
I head to the bar because now, finally, I can relax and have some fun.