Chapter 16 Spencer
SIXTEEN
SPENCER
I step back into the cocktail room, the hum of laughter and clinking glasses now sounding like static.
Isabelle is waiting just inside the doorway. Her perfectly arched brow lifts when she sees me.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
The look on my face when I saw Rhea must’ve said everything. Isabelle’s seen me play the part at dozens of these events. The charming date. The perfectly polished accessory. The man who never flinches.
But I flinched.
Hard.
“Isabelle,” I say quietly, “I’ve got… I’m…”
“You know that woman,” she says, helping me find the starting line.
“I do. And she… she was…”
“She meant something to you.”
I nod. “She did. And I had no idea… none at all…”
“That she was Carter’s sister.”
“Exactly. If I’d known—” I stop, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t have…”
“Wouldn’t have come?” she asks. “Or wouldn’t have come with me?”
She winks.
Not upset.
Not even mildly inconvenienced.
Probably already calculating how quickly she can take the $10K she’s being paid for the weekend and hire a car back to the city before the salad is served.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t ever a thing. But—” I exhale. “I might’ve wanted it to be. I met her just before the accident. And after that, everything just… fell apart.”
Isabelle studies me for a long beat, her expression softening. “You really cared about her.”
“I did.”
“Well, then, maybe you should tell her.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late. I missed my chance.”
“Really?” she says, folding her arms, not unkindly. “You’re sure of that?”
I glance away, jaw tight. “It’s complicated.”
“It always is,” she says, voice gentle. Then, after a pause, “So. How can I help?”
I look back at her, grateful in a way I can’t put into words.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Let’s just… see how this rehearsal goes.”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck.
“I’m pretty sure,” I add, “she still has no idea we’re about to walk down the aisle together.”