Chapter 22
PIPER
The madness is just madness. The magic part happens when you show up. Her words echoed between them.
"Well, then I guess it's a good thing I showed up," Zach said, wrapping his arms around her.
She shouldn't have allowed it since she was working. And he was working. But then there he was beside her, unfairly attractive despite a long day.
Piper shivered, with goosebumps forming all along her skin.
"You okay?" he asked, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.
She nodded even as the Stallions' field settled into a calm that unreasonably put her more on edge.
"After every event, there's always a dip. An emotional dip. It happens. It's normal, and given the rush of the past weeks, it's not like I've had a second to stop and really prepare for it."
"But you've had two pretty major projects finish up. The engagement pictures and this… " He gestured to the stadium around them. "I don't even know what to call this."
She laughed. With the frenetic energy of the pre-taped Wild Sacks shoot fading, the stadium lights dimming, and shadows stretching across the turf, the air held onto the earthy scent that always came before the rain.
Piper shoved her clipboard into her bag; its pages crumpled from her grip during the bulldog's end-zone heist.
"Today was great." She brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face and moved with Zach toward where the puppy playpens were being dismantled since the pups were all loaded up and headed back to the shelter.
Well, except for the bulldog mix who wouldn't part from Gus. That insistence was mutual, so she had a solid hunch it would work out long term.
"You're right," Tess strode beside them. "Today was great. I couldn't have done it without your help. Thank you, Piper. Truly."
"Pfft," Peggy said as she smacked together two lengths of the plastic play area.
"Don't even start, Grams," Tess said.
"I said nothing." Peggy lifted her hands like she was the picture of innocence even though her voice was gritty, low like she'd smoked a solid carton of cigarettes each day through the 1980s.
"I know what you were going to say, and you don't need to say it," Tess countered.
"How can you know what I was going to say when I don't even know what I was going to say?" Peggy volleyed.
"You were going to spout nonsense about how there's always a price to pay for the good things that happen, but we all know that's bologna." Tess shoved her hands on her hips.
Peggy waggled her fingertip. "Young people don't understand the ways of the world. Ah, to be young and dumb again."
"I vould be young, but never stupid." Babushka shook her head. "I vas never stupid to start. You should listen to Peggy. She's very smart."
"Did you even hear what she said?" Zach asked his grandmother.
"Nope. Didn't need to," Babushka said.
"Because I didn't say it," Peggy huffed.
"Go ahead, just get it over with so we can all move on." Tess pressed her fingertips to her forehead.
"All I would say is that when life is smooth, you better brace for what's coming." Peggy patted Tess's arm, her eyes sharp with wisdom. "That's why I always say to live in the madness. It's safer."
"Oh." Babushka shook her head. "That's no good. That is the kind of advice that makes people vorry."
"And no one needs to worry," Zach agreed. The way he'd said the words was warm and teasing.
Of course, Piper wanted to believe that he was right. But her stomach still twisted. Peggy's words were a lit match in her gasoline-soaked mind, and every attempt to douse the flame only seemed to make it hiss louder.
"Hey," Zach said, sidling up to her as she re-organized her bag. "Don't go quiet."
Piper shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Just thinking."
About how everything could look so stunning right before it spectacularly imploded.
"This went great. Everyone's happy with how it turned out.
They'll edit tonight. It'll launch right away.
And Denver will stop worrying about how an engagement can wreck a season that hasn't even started.
Then Drake will be on his honeymoon with my sister and life will be—" He let out a deep breath. "—calmer."
She zipped her bag with more force than necessary. "Zach?"
He waited.
"I'm trying to trust that it's okay when things get calm." She sighed, fully meeting his gaze. "What if Peggy's right? What if when things are so easy, they only have one way to go?"
Zach's brow furrowed. "You want to call what we did here today easy? Because I have a lot of words for it, but easy isn't one." He tilted her chin up with his fingertip.
Her shoulders slumped slightly.
He let his hand sit gently against her neckline. She wanted to curl into his fingers and just let that comfort her but now was not the time.
"Did you say you needed to catch me?" Anna called over, moving toward them with the other Dvornakov girls. "What's up?"
"Yes, I did need to talk to you," Piper said, rolling her shoulders like she could undo years of conditioning and ignore Peggy's 'wisdom'. "Did Drake take off?"
Anna had made it clear that Drake could not, under any circumstances, see the dress before the big day. This wasn't a Babushka-brand superstition. This was 100% Anna's request. And Piper respected that.
"Not yet," Anna replied. "But he's going out with the guys as we speak. They invited Dad out to the afterparty. He acted like it wasn't a big deal, but it was a big deal."
"Come see us once he's gone." Piper winked in the kind of way that transmitted, code activated. "We've got something to show you."
Anna seemed uncertain.
"It's a surprise and it's good." Zach said, pausing to let the weight of the words sink in.
"Meet us at the changing tent in five?" Piper asked.
Diana chuckled, nudging Sadie. "Are we allowed to come, too? Or just Anna?"
"Anyone but Drake," Piper clarified.
"You should come," Zach agreed. "Definitely come."
Heather raised her plastic cup in a mock toast. "I think that means it's about the dress, right? It's got to be about the dress?"
Sadie squealed a good kind of squeal. "Is it the dress?"
Piper mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. "Five minutes."
She and Zach moved toward the tent to get things ready, her fingers lingering on the shoulder strap of her purse.
He stepped closer, his shoulder brushing hers as they strode together. A professional distance, sure, but close enough she could feel the heat of his body.
"Thanks for coming with," Piper said, fidgeting with the canvas bag.
"I spent way too many hours cussing at that silk to let Anna see it without me," he said.
Piper laughed, but it came out shaky, her nerves buzzing under her skin.
His hand grazed her lower back, guiding her through the maze of disassembled equipment and lingering crew.
Her chest tightened, warmth and panic tangling together. She wanted to lean into him, let his words anchor her, but that nagging voice—Peggy's voice, her own voice—whispered that this was the calm before the inevitable crash.
"You're making it really hard to stay professional," she teased.
"Good," he murmured, his eyes locking on hers for a beat too long as they entered the empty tent. "I'm not trying to make it easy."
He glanced around and then he moved quickly, not to the garment bag hanging on the rack, but to her. His palms against her cheeks as he kissed the stuffing right out of her and probably smeared her lip gloss all the way to downtown.
"What was that for?" she asked, breathless.
"Because I wanted to."
"Okay, but my lip gloss now has its own zip code. Was that strategically necessary?"
"Yes. Now, we should probably go back to being professional."
"I can't move. You're still holding my face," she said.
He chuckled and brushed the tip of his nose against hers.
Then it hit her.
She wasn't simply crushing on him. She was falling.
Like, really falling.
She was falling for awkward mornings and shared toothpaste and the way his shirts never stayed fully tucked in. She was falling for messy, inconvenient, terrifying, totally irrational love. The real deal.
Holy crap, I'm falling in love with him.
The thought froze her mid-footstep, like maybe her shoe understood the gravity of the moment.
And the thing about love? It usually came with heartbreak gift-wrapped on the side. Either his or hers. Likely his, because that would hurt the most. The universe had already played its move, and she hadn't even seen the board yet.
Stay? It gets messy and breaks her. Leave? She ruins it before it even begins.
But what if maybe love wasn't always a crash? Maybe, this time, it could be a climb?
He turned toward her, eyes tender and open.
"You know, I wanted to tell you…" she began, heart racing. "I wanted you to know that I think… um… that the thing about today was…"
"Amazing?" he asked, obviously trying to help her out. "I agree and when this works like we know it will…" His tone shifted to an all-business-inspirational-speech. His confidence at an all-time high. "Everything will be exactly what we need."
"What we need?" she echoed.
"Wild Sacks finally gets stability. And Aspen can't say you didn't move mountains to make this wedding a success for Anna and Drake. You did it, Piper. You did it."
Not we did it?
Her heart didn't sink. There was no sinking feeling here. No, this was the start of a shutdown.
This wasn't about them. Gah. He was talking about the deal. And just like that, the fragile, unspoken thing between them started to inch toward being a negotiation she could lose.
"Right," she said, forcing a smile so brittle it might crack with a strong breeze. "The Wild Sacks deal. My job. Total win-win. That's what I was going to say, too."
The confession lodged in her throat, a bitter pill she was forced to swallow.
For the briefest flicker of a second, something changed on Zach's face. Not easy to catch, but not nothing either.
"I mean, there's us, too…" he said, quieter now, rubbing a hand through his hair. "But, I was just also thinking—"
"You're getting everything you ever wanted. This is going to be huge for Wild Sacks. For you. And for me," she said, instead of what she really wanted to say.
Her heart raced, the confession right there on the tip of her tongue.
I'm falling in love with you, and I'm terrified I'll ruin us.
But she stopped herself.
His face flickered, a shadow of something—disappointment? —crossing it.
"Right," he said, rubbing a hand through his hair as his phone buzzed again. "Wild Sacks gets the deal. You get the corner office. Win-win." He hesitated.
"I'm ready for my surprise," Anna trilled, flipping back the curtain they used as a makeshift doorway to the tent and snapping Piper out of herself. Anna held out grabby hands like a small child awaiting cupcakes.
Piper exhaled. Time to pivot. "It's good, I think. Hopefully. No pressure, right?"
"So," she continued with a too-wide smile, "I had this idea about your dress. We actually—" she gestured between herself and Zach "—designed something for you." She motioned toward the garment bag Zach carried.
"If you hate it, totally fine. We'll launch a Code Red and sprint to the nearest boutique. No hard feelings." She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead wishing it was an ice pack because there was definitely going to be a headache later.
Piper forced a smile, her heart hammering as the Dvornakov women crowded into the tent, their chatter filling the space like static.
She glanced at Zach, who gave her a small nod, his expression steady but laced with something comfortable. Something that made her want to spill every fear and hope she'd been bottling up.
Instead, she gripped the garment bag zipper tighter, the cool metal grounding her as she prepared to unveil the dress. Then she stopped.
"Actually." She turned to Zach. "You do it."
Anna gasped as Zach unzipped the bag inch by suspenseful inch.
"Oh," Anna whispered, fingertips sliding reverently across the fabric.
She hugged the dress to her chest and did an impromptu spin, full on tears brimming in her eyes. "It's absolutely perfect."
"You'll need to try it on," Piper said, quieter. "But it should fit."
"Hope you like it," Zach said.
"Like it? I love it," Anna said, half-laughing, half-sobbing as she pulled Piper into a smooshy, grateful hug.
Diana, Sadie, Heather, and Babushka all stood quietly, letting Anna have her teary moment.
Zach cleared his throat. "You know, Babushka always says if you cry happy tears before the wedding, it means you'll cry unhappy ones after."
Everyone turned to him in horrified unison.
Babushka even sucked in a long breath. "I vouldn't say it at this exact moment. I vould vait until the right moment. Vhich is not now."
"Why would you say that?" Anna thwacked him on the back of the head like a seasoned sibling. "Bad vibes. Ba-a-a-ad vibe management."
"Ow." He rubbed the spot. "Hey, I don't believe it. It's just what she always says."
"It's true. I do say this. But I am not stupid vhen I say it." Babushka shook her head with grave disappointment.
Piper stayed silent.
Because unfortunately… she worried that she did believe it.
The words she wanted to tell Zach were still stuck in her chest, hot and tight and terrifying. Words that wanted out. Words she'd tried to say and failed.
That's why she said nothing as Anna tried on the dress, and it fit. Of course, it fit. She said nothing as Zach and the family headed to Brek's to meet up with the players and his dad. And she said nothing when she told Zach she wouldn't be coming to his place that night.
She didn't invite him to her apartment, either. No, because she needed a little space on her own.
By the time she made it home, Shelby was already in bed, the apartment quiet in that ambient, don't-wake-the-roomie kind of way.
Piper dropped into her desk chair, the silence pressing in from all sides. She opened her cell to text Zach. To say something.
But she stared at the screen, and then set it on her desk because she had a wedding to get done.
Because what if the problem with a curse was the unpredictability?
Because what if it waited until she was distracted, but it still came for her? And, instead of kicking in the front door like usual, this time it was taking the scenic route?
What if it had nothing to do with Anna and Drake, and everything to do with her and Zach?
Because this wasn't just a fling with him. Not anymore.