39. Hideaway Bride
EVA
I’m up bright and early, as the wedding day has finally arrived. I’m glad I made it, and that’s enough—I’ve given up on perfection. Hell, I’ve even given up on good. Let’s just make it through the damn day.
I can’t believe the things West said to me last night. It should’ve been a dream come true, hearing those amazing things he told me. But it was an absolute nightmare. More than anything in the world, I wanted to tell West that I loved him back, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I don’t know what I feel, for sure. Which I keep rationalizing is for the best since I’m leaving for New York—a place he would be absolutely miserable.
And now, after what aired on The Bridesmaid to Bride Special Wedding Weekend episode last night, Skye told me that West’s contract with Groomsman to Groom might be off. They are in meetings to figure it out, as they don’t want a star who’s already in love and there “for the wrong reasons.”
I feel wrung out, but Skye is helping me coordinate the decorating committee and the camera crews, which I’m utterly grateful for. I’m feeling sick to my stomach, so I’m glad to have something to keep my mind occupied. My phone buzzes, and I check to see a text from West.
West: Zach said Paige has locked herself in the bathroom this time. She won’t come out. Again.
“Oh, jeez.” Paige is so dramatic. And bless Zach’s heart for having patience for her theatrics.
I show Skye the text, and she goes bug-eyed. “You think it’s bad this time?”
I toss some flowers into a vase. “No. Nothing nefarious is happening to Paige, trust me.” My sister is starring in a reality TV wedding for a reason—she belongs in a soap opera, which will probably happen after they see this grand performance at the wedding. “I’ll try texting her, but she doesn’t reply to me right away on a normal day.” I shoot a text off to Paige, and as expected, get no response.
I’m still not worried.
“I know how to get her to reply.” Skye grabs my phone. “I’m telling her all the bridesmaids have pink eye.”
“Ohh, that’s good.” I sit on the bed beside her.
After Skye sends Paige the text, within a minute my sister answers. All she says is, “I’m in hiding and never coming out. Zach deserves better than this.”
“Oh, for hell’s sake.” I close my eyes. “Why does she do this?”
Skye hops off the bed and tugs my arm. “Let’s go.”
After Zach gives us the keycard to the honeymoon suite, Skye and I barge in.
Through the bathroom door, I hear Paige shriek, “Eva? My life is over!” She gasps for air, so I try opening the door, but it’s locked. Instead, I lean into the crack and say, “Okay—just breathe. Whatever’s happening, we’ll figure out a way to fix it.”
“You can’t.” Paige is making that gaspy sound in her throat, a sure sign she’s in hysterics.
“But Skye’s here,” I say.
“Not even Skye can solve this,” Paige says through a sob. “And you have pink eye, so you have to leave… right now.”
“We just made that up to get you to respond,” I say.
“Oh.”
After way too many minutes of Paige vacillating between crying and yelling, “I can’t,” she finally considers coming out of the bathroom. “Promise me you won’t freak out,” she says.
“Promise,” I say, meaning it. “How bad can it be?”
When Paige steps out, I gasp. So does Skye.
“I told you not to do that!” Paige squeals, breaking into tears again. “See? I have to leave town.”
“It’s not that bad.” Skye lies through her teeth—it’s worse than bad. Paige’s face looks like a cherry pop with eyes and a mouth.
“Just a little redness.” Skye’s voice cracks.
“Is there any skin left?” I try not to gag.
After a hiccup, Paige says, “I checked the wrong box on the facial form. Instead of a light refresher that was guaranteed to make my skin glow, I selected a chemical peel that took off my epidermis. I’ll look fabulous…in about ten days.” She sobs again. “Now I’m on painkillers, and I have no skin. None!”
Skye and I exchange looks—this is bad. Really bad.
Then Skye pats Paige’s hand, saying, “We’ll hire a makeup artist. Like Jane Fonda’s—hers is clearly a magician.”
Paige shakes her head. “I already have a magical makeup artist. It won’t work because I have no skin for it to stick to. They’d have to give me a latex face, and I’d end up looking like I’m starring in a horror flick. Believe me, the show has already gone through all the options with me. If they could fix this, I wouldn’t be here hiding. There’s nothing anyone can do. It’s hopeless.”
We stand here, looking around, bouncing off more ideas that get shot down.
West walks through the door and Paige darts back into the bathroom. “Get out, West.”
“Nope.” He folds his arms. “Not until we have some sort of plan. My friend is crying. And I’ve never seen Zach cry before. Not even when he broke his arm falling off the monkey bars.”
“You just met him last year.” My face pinches.
“Yes. That happened last year.” West shoots me a “duh” look.
“Really?” Paige says behind the door. “Zach is crying for me?”
“Yes, Paige.” West is using that voice—the one where he’s annoyed but trying not to sound like it. “He’s a total wreck. He can’t wait to marry you.”
“That’s so cute!” Paige cries out.
“Okay, time for a plan.” Skye looks at me and says, “You and Paige are identical twins.”
My eyes practically pop out of my head. “I don’t know where you’re going with this, but nope.”
Paige cracks open the door. “This could work. But when was the last time you did some sort of skin care routine, Eva?”
“I don’t need a skin care routine.” I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to point out what just happened to her while doing one.
Skye’s tone is gentle. “We can put makeup on you, Eva, but we can’t, Paige.”
I stand silent, the wheels of my mind snagging.
“That’s true.” Paige pops her head out to give me a once over. “Ugh. Of course. Your nails look hideous, Eves, and I bet you have a rainforest growing below.”
“No one…” I trail off, giving Paige the stink eye, “is going to see my below…area, so that doesn’t matter.” Well, no one anymore. I resist the temptation to look at West. “Anyway, it also doesn’t matter because I’m not doing this.”
Paige’s lip quivers. “What am I going to do? It’s a live, televised wedding. We can’t cancel it. Not without a gigantic mess, anyway, and millions of dollars lost. I’ll probably get sued because this was me being irresponsible.”
“Ugh.” My entire life, I’m always stepping in to save Paige when she gets herself into a pickle. And now, here I am again. But this time she’s asking me to do something I’m terrified of—basically performing on live TV. My brain kicks into overdrive, thinking of reasons not to do this. “There’s no way I can pull this off. I’m the maid of honor.”
Skye puts up a finger. “It’s better to have the maid of honor miss the wedding than the bride.”
I groan. “Thanks, Skye.”
“Agreed,” West adds.
My lip curls. “Oh, you agree with Skye, West. Big shocker.”
Paige’s eyes brighten. “My makeup artist can make you look like me. She can add my Marilyn Monroe mole on your left cheek.”
“That you had tattooed on,” I mumble.
Skye says, “I could tattoo it on you now—”
“Nope,” I cut in. “If I say yes, which is a big if, we’ll draw it on.”
“I’m missing my own wedding.” Paige sobs again.
My voice turns desperate. “Wait, Paige. I can’t actually marry Zach.”
“Seriously, Eva?” Paige shoots me a glare. Or I think it’s a glare—it’s hard to read her facial expressions. “You don’t have to. It won’t have names on the paper. It’ll all be just for show.”
I shake my head furiously. “But I don’t even look like you, Paige.”
“Um, yeah, you do,” West says. “That’s kinda the point.”
I groan, blowing out a sigh so long I feel dizzy. I can never say no to Paige, and she knows it. And that’s with silly stuff. This one’s actually important, so I just need to give up fighting already. “Ugh. Fine.”
“Yay!” Paige throws her arms around me. “Thank you. Thank you!”
“I have a bad feeling about this.” I pat Paige’s back before pulling away. “Wait. Dad will know I’m pretending to be the bride.”
“I’ll let him in on it.” Skye taps something into her phone. “And Zach. And the show’s producers.” She puts a finger up. “And we need to put out an announcement that Eva has food poisoning and will be missing the ceremony.”
“Swell.” I close my eyes.
“I’ll be up there with you, Eva. Skye and I will be your pit crew,” West offers.
“Great,” I say. “Thanks, West.” Of course he’s still here for me, like always.
But after everything, being my sister in her own wedding is going to be the end of me—I feel it.