Chapter 2
MAGGIE
Over the last week, I had been painted, powdered, polished, plucked, and sprayed until I looked like Hamptons Barbie. At this point, I could happily go the rest of my life without seeing the inside of another salon, but in two weeks, I would be doing it all over again for the big show.
The bridal shower was just a trial run.
As far as I was concerned, this kind of thing was the very definition of cruel and unusual punishment, but people kept telling me I must be enjoying all the pampering. Why anyone thought wax, tweezers, and spray paint applied directly to skin counted as being pampered, I didn’t know.
It felt more like being smothered.
Meanwhile, my friend and maid of honor, Cathy Cavendash, seemed to be taking great pleasure in my miraculous transformation. Or rather, she enjoyed holding a position of wedding-related authority and being able to boss everyone around.
“More pink on the eyelids,” she barked at the makeup artist she’d personally hand selected. “Actually, no. Let’s redo the eyeshadow entirely. Coral washes her out. It needs to be pink. Did any of you bother to study the color wheel?”
I stared at myself in the mirror, not particularly feeling the coral either, but I didn’t say anything about it, so used to letting others craft me into a shining example of what every high-bred, former debutante heiress should be that I just sat back and allowed it to happen.
Coral aside, the woman staring back at me in the reflection of the mirror genuinely did look beautiful. She also didn’t look anything like me, but that was hardly important. My highlights were fresh, my spray tan was perfection, and my eyebrows had been wrestled into glorious submission.
That was what mattered.
I had to look the part and I did, but on the inside, it was a different story.
As Cathy started snapping at the rest of the bridal party about the difference between sparkling wine and champagne, I glanced down at the white dress I hadn’t chosen.
At least the dress was pretty. I had to give it that.
Flowing but fitted, it accentuated my curves without making me look like a stuffed sausage, but even so, I never would have picked it for myself.
It was way too dainty with all the lace and sparkly beads.
The same could be said about my shoes. They were squeezing the bejesus out of my toes, but they were pretty too. Everything was.
It was raining outside, but so far, that was the only thing about the day that felt even remotely fitting. I would’ve sighed if I could, but frankly, the dress didn’t allow my lungs quite that much leeway.
“Maggie?” my mother cried from the doorway. “Oh, darling, you look perfect!”
I looked up just in time to see her crossing the room with tears shimmering in her eyes, her hands clasped delicately over her mouth. Smiling because I knew that was what I was supposed to do, I air-kissed her cheek when she reached me.
“Thanks, Mom.”
I supposed I did look perfect, but what did I know anyway? People had been telling me what perfect looked like my entire life and they often said I hit the mark, but it had never felt right. I sure as heck had never felt perfect.
If I was being honest, I’d never really known where I fit into the picture of my own life. I was more of a bystander or a support character than the one steering the ship.
Cathy clapped her hands and swept a hand toward the door. “Alright, everybody ready? Let’s go.”
The makeup artist and hairstylist each offered me a hand, casting one last, critical eye over their handiwork before exchanging a nod, helping me up, and letting me leave.
Twenty minutes later, I was walking into my own bridal shower, for which I hadn’t sent the invitations, and found myself looking out at a sea of women I knew and even more I didn’t.
Sparkling chandeliers glittered overhead. Champagne glasses already clinked as expensively dressed guests laughed. Flowers spilled over vases from huge arrangements at the center of each table. All white, of course.
With one sweeping glance around the room, I concluded that most of these women were my mother’s friends or girls my parents believed were my friends simply because our families had been attending the same charity galas since before we could walk.
If we traveled in the same social circles, that had to mean they were my tribe.
They weren’t.
On the other side of the room were the women from Daniel’s family. Most of them regarded me with a careful sort of skepticism that made me feel like I might’ve accidentally committed a crime.
I couldn’t blame them, though. They didn’t know me. All they knew was I was the girl marrying their precious son, nephew, and friend.
Despite all that, I moved from group to group, smiling and greeting everyone. As I did, Cathy appeared at my side and ushered me toward a group of photographers near the main doors.
Judging by the notes being scribbled on phones and the candid snaps taken of the room itself, I had no doubt they were reporters. Cathy arranged us in front of the cameras, moving me three inches to the left before shoving a glass of champagne into my hand.
She snapped at a few of the other bridesmaids before finally grinning and looking up and down the line. “Alright, big smiles, everybody!”
I smiled as wide as I could, hoping that would be good enough.
Then, as Cathy took my arm once more and guided me toward our table for the speeches, I finally realized there weren’t only women in this room after all. One man stood slightly apart from everyone else, sticking close to the back wall of the cavernous venue.
Dressed in a suit that clung to his tall frame, he was watching us with an expression trapped somewhere between amusement, concern, and extreme boredom. Same, dude. Same.
Although I couldn’t quite put my finger on who he was, he seemed strangely familiar. Definitely not a random event manager supplied by the venue.
I was still trying to place him when Cathy sat me down in my spot and stood, clinked her glass, and looked out at the room. “If I could have your attention please, everyone.”
She waited until most conversations had fallen silent before launching into a warm welcome that ended with a toast to my and Daniel’s future. I raised my glass and smiled dutifully, but I kept finding myself glancing toward the back of the room.
That man was still there, and try as I might, I couldn’t quite shake him. I still had no idea who he was, but I’d definitely seen him before, and it was driving me nuts not being able to figure it out.
The entire time the toasts were dragging on and on, I wracked my brain, searching for any sign of a memory but finding none. He was hot, though. I’d established that much.
Although I’d established that the moment I’d first spotted him. Whoever he was, his jawline had been given an unfair amount of attention during production. That was for sure.
He was the kind of guy who’d probably left a whole minefield of broken hearts in his wake. Mine wasn’t one of them. That definitely wasn’t how I knew him, but still. In another lifetime, I absolutely would have let him take a stab at breaking other parts of my anatomy.
With a soft sigh, I put my back to him and returned my attention to the woman who was making another toast. She spoke like she knew Daniel, so I assumed she was one of his guests, but I honestly didn’t know.
By the time Cathy finally sat down again, signaling the end of this round of toasts, I shot to my feet and offered her a quick smile. “I’m going to powder my nose. See you in a minute.”
She narrowed her eyes, but I knew that was the one and only excuse she would accept. Finally, she confirmed it with a swift, curt nod of her chin. “Make it quick. We’ve got appetizers coming out soon.”
“Of course.”
I spun around and escaped, managing to keep the smile pasted on my face for precisely as long as it took me to cross the room.
As soon as I reached the other end, I pushed open the first set of doors I saw, not even caring when I was hit with a gust of hot air and the clattering of pots, pans, and a few chefs calling instructions to one another.
Great. I’m in the kitchen.
For a beat, I considered seeking another place to gather my thoughts, but if I went back out there, I’d risk being pulled back to my table. Nope. I’m staying put.
Thankfully, no one seemed bothered by my presence. They were too busy doing their actual jobs. Servers hurried past with plates balanced on their arms and those behind the counters flicked whatever was in their pans without a single care about the random girl in the corner.
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes, feeling a sense of calm envelop me against the hustle of the chefs and other workers. For the first time all day, it felt like oxygen was actually filling my lungs and I dragged in a deep breath, nearly crying with relief for how good it felt.
Unfortunately, awareness prickled through me the very next moment and I opened my eyes, praying to all that was holy Cathy hadn’t already found me.
Nope. It was the guy I’d seen earlier.
Ryan.
The name popped into my head out of nowhere as he walked across the kitchen, typing something into his phone.
Ryan Thayer. That’s who he is.
I hadn’t seen him for a very long time, but honestly, he hadn’t changed much. He was still stupidly handsome and his family’s downfall definitely hadn’t shaken loose the chip he’d always had on his shoulder.
“Ryan?” It was out of my mouth before I could think better of it and I pushed away from the wall, smiling—for real, also for the first time all day—as I approached him. “Is it really you?”
When he looked over at me, my heart gave a fluttery kind of leap. “Hi, Maggie. I’m surprised you remember me.”
Up close, he was extraordinarily put together, like it just happened for him without any effort at all. He also still carried himself with the same confidence he’d always had, even as a gangly kid.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I mean, it’s nice to see you, but I wasn’t expecting you.”
He smiled and shrugged. “My mother. Apparently, she’s planning your wedding and I’ve been roped into it against my will.”
Same, I almost said. Almost.
I managed to bite back the word at the very last second and cleared my throat, suddenly a little nervous under his intensely blue gaze. “So, how have you been?”
He nodded and was about to say something, but his phone buzzed in his hand, and his eyes dropped to look at the screen.
After quickly scanning a message, he glanced back up at me.
“Bride magazine and the Knot are taken care of, but I’ll make sure you’re not pulled aside for interviews too often during the actual wedding. ”
I blinked rapidly. “You’re serious?”
“Unfortunately.”
I blinked in surprise and looked him over again. “So you’re my wedding planner now?”
He grimaced, those handsome features contorting like he’d tasted something sour, but before he could respond, my mother’s voice drifted across the kitchen. “Maggie!”
I turned to see both my mom and his standing in the doorway. Nora Thayer might’ve fallen from grace a long time ago, but she sure hadn’t lost the pinched, disapproving half-smile I swore their social circle had taken a class in during pregnancy.
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” my mom said, crossing the kitchen and taking a firm grip of my arm. “You simply cannot disappear from your own bridal shower.”
“I was powdering my nose.”
“For twenty minutes? In the kitchen?”
“Has it really been that long?” I glanced at Ryan for help, but he just shrugged, obviously not interested in defending me.
Until his own mother started scolding him in turn. “You were supposed to stay with the guests.”
“I’m working.”
“You can work later.”
“Not on checking the appetizers,” he said.
My mom tightened her grip on my arm and started tugging me to the door. “Come on,” she said. “Cathy is looking for you. It’s time for another toast before the first game.”
Bridal shower games. Whoop.
I felt my face fall, but I allowed myself to be dragged back to the party anyway. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice here. Just before I followed Mom through the swinging doors, however, I couldn’t resist the urge to look back at him over my shoulder.
Ryan was still standing exactly where he had been, his phone still in his hand and his mother still talking to him, but he didn’t seem to be listening to her at all. Instead, he was watching me. Our eyes locked across the busy kitchen, and for a long beat, neither of us looked away.
***