Chapter 6
Chapter Six
I couldn’t decide if he was a miracle man or a menace, but Trey Collins had more sway with these kids than I expected. Not that the boys were officially in the club. When the choice came down to us or the team, there was no chance they’d pick us.
But they’d taken a bigger step than any players in the past, and I had to give him credit for that.
“Hey, lady,” said Donna as I stepped into Megan’s apartment. “About time you got here.”
We were making a night of it, which required packing a bag. “I had to do laundry to have something to pack.”
She scoffed. “You had all week to do laundry and you waited until today? Why am I not surprised.”
This was one downside to your friends knowing you too well. “I was busy the rest of the week.” Without a word, she stared with one perfectly shaped brow arched high. “Fine, I put it off until today. Is everyone else here?”
“Pretty much. Head to the kitchen for a drink, and I’ll put your bag in the bedroom.”
Spotting Josie and Megan at the counter, I took Donna’s suggestion and strolled that way. As I joined them, Megan handed me a wineglass full of orange juice.
“Mimosa?” I asked. Not a typical drink for an evening event, but when something was perfect, you didn’t restrict it to brunch alone.
“Yes, ma’am,” the bride replied, far more relaxed than I expected.
Megan was a boss, whether on the ball field or in the library, but she could also be anxious around big events, and this one certainly qualified. The wedding venue, called Hickamore House, would host both the ceremony and the reception, and came with the use of a gorgeous old renovated home. That’s where the bridal party would spend the night after the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, and where the couple would spend their wedding night before flying off for their honeymoon the next morning.
“Is everything good for the weekend?” I asked.
Megan shrugged. “As far as I know, yeah. Becca has been in charge of everything, and what she isn’t handling, Amanda is taking care of.”
Amanda was Becca’s boss and the owner of Three Rivers Events. I supposed when you put your wedding in the hands of people you truly trusted, you could be completely hands off. But there should have been some nerves floating to the surface. The woman was about to say ’til death do us part .
That was kind of a big deal.
“Oh, Miriam is here,” Megan said, trotting over to give her boss a welcome hug.
This did not add up. “Am I crazy or is she acting weird?”
Without hesitating, Josie said, “She’s on her fifth mimosa.”
Holy crap. “Please tell me you’ve fed her today.”
“During lunch she said she was too nervous to eat. Since then I’ve seen her toss back exactly two canapes.”
Could you even have a bachelorette party if the bachelorette was asleep by seven? We would soon find out.
Surveying the array of snacks spread across the kitchen island, I debated whether to start healthy and go for a handful of nuts, or to say the heck with it and grab a cupcake.
“Hey, Linds,” Becca said, joining us in the kitchen. “How is school?”
“Same old same old.” I hadn’t told anyone about the threat to the drama club. There wasn’t anything they could do, and I saw no point in tanking the mood when this was Megan’s moment in the spotlight. “How is Jacob doing? I’ve only seen him a couple of times in the teachers’ lounge.”
Becca tossed an almond into her mouth. “About the same, I assume. All I’ve heard about is his new friend.”
Not the response I expected.
“New friend?” Josie said.
In an uncharacteristic move, Becca rolled her eyes. “He’s the new football coach. They’re in the same department and the two of them have hit it off.”
“Trey Collins,” I said. “Jacob was introducing him around the teachers’ lounge the first week of school.”
Making an astute observation, Josie said, “Neither of you sound all that enthused about the person.”
“I’ve never met him,” Becca said with a shrug, “but I’m tired of hearing his name. Trey played this here. Trey has done that there. Apparently, the school has hired the most interesting man in the world to be their football coach.”
I knew none of this, and also, interesting was not the first word that came to mind at the mention of Coach Collins. Annoying. Arrogant. Built like a tank. All reasonable descriptors. Interesting might have been on the list, but nowhere near my top ten.
“They put his room across from mine and it’s like Grand Central Station. Students—mostly football players—and faculty are always hovering in his doorway for one reason or another. I don’t get it.”
“Wait, Miles mentioned a new guy at the poker game,” Josie said. “Is that him?”
“Yes,” Becca answered. “Jacob takes him everywhere. Says he’s new in town and doesn’t know anyone, so we should help him meet people.” Becca reached for more almonds. “We’re even taking him to the wedding.”
That better be some other wedding on some other weekend that did not involve me. “What?”
“It was Ryan’s idea,” Becca said. “He had a cousin bail at the last minute so the meal is already paid for. I didn’t think the coach would say yes since he’d know almost no one there, but I was wrong.”
This was supposed to be my weekend to relax and not think about school. How was I going to do that when my school nemesis was in attendance?
Nemesis might have been too strong a word, but if he knew that Aiden and Burke came to see me about the club, there was no way he wouldn’t mention it. And then he’d get to say I told you so instead of me. But then I could remind him that joining the play would take them away from the team, and his story would change real quick.
“Lindsey?” Becca said, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Where did you go, and why are you grinding your teeth like that?”
“I’m fine.”
“Were you having a pretend argument in your head?”
I really needed to find friends who didn’t know me inside and out. “Who would go to a complete stranger’s wedding?”
“He’s played poker with the guys a few times,” Josie said, “So he isn’t a stranger to Ryan.”
“A few card games doesn’t make them close enough to invite the man to his wedding,” I pointed out. “What did Megan say?”
“She agreed that the meal was paid for so someone might as well eat it.” Lowering her voice, Becca said, “Speaking of the bride, here she comes with an empty glass again. We need to slow her down.”
“I’ve got it,” Josie mumbled. The moment Megan reached us with Miriam Webster—her boss from the library and yes, that was her real name—Josie took the empty glass from Megan’s hand. “Let me refill that for you, hon. Miriam, what can I get you?”
“Megan says the mimosas are good.”
“Coming right up.” Josie gave me a wink as she turned to the row of liquor bottles behind us.
“Are we all ready for the big day?” Miriam asked.
“Becca has everything under control.” The glaze over Megan’s eyes said she’d completely checked out.
“Here you are.” Josie handed both Miriam and Megan their drinks. “Don’t forget about all the snacks.”
“Speaking of,” Donna said, stepping up to the group. “Your sister and stepmom would like more canapes. Are there more in the fridge?”
“I’ll take them over,” Megan said. She then promptly turned on her heels and walked away empty-handed.
The five of us exchanged a confused glance before Miriam said, “If you have a plate ready, I’ll take them over.”
Josie checked the fridge and, sure enough, there was another platter ready to go.
As the head librarian walked away, Donna said, “Maybe we should cut Megan off.”
“Already done.” Josie grabbed a bottle behind her and held it up. “She’s now drinking orange juice and sparkling water.”
That was one way to do it. “Smart move.”
Becca pushed away from the counter. “We need to go sit down before I eat this entire bowl of nuts.”
“You can have the nuts.” I plopped a cupcake onto a small paper plate. “I’m going for the sweets.”
Eying my treat, Becca gave up the fight. “One of those couldn’t hurt, right?”
Donna picked up the entire plate. “There are no calories in anything eaten on a celebration weekend.” She headed for the couch and the rest of us followed as if she was the pied piper of buttercream.
“I’m not sure that’s true,” Becca mumbled.
“It’s absolutely true,” Josie said, backing Donna’s preposterous declaration. “And either way, we’ll dance it all off at the reception.”
She was grossly overestimating the amount of dancing I planned to do, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep eating cupcakes.
One hour, two cupcakes, and six canapes later, Megan sobered up. She also came back to the reality of her looming wedding. Thankfully, she had two friends who’d either been through the process numerous times before—that being Becca the wedding planner and Donna the wedding photographer.
Josie and I weren’t much help other than holding her hand and offering more canapes.
The night ended early, helped along by some melatonin gummies for Megan, and the exhaustion of a long week for the rest of us. This was Becca’s first time spending the night away from Noah, which had her attempting to bolt for the door no fewer than three times.
He was spending the night with her mom, who was in baby heaven, and after the third call Kathy Witherspoon ordered her daughter to put her phone away and go to bed.
Properly scolded, she crawled into her pallet next to mine and we all floated into oblivion around midnight. I could only assume the bachelor party did not end as early, but as far as we knew, the guys spent their evening playing darts and pool in Ryan’s father’s basement, so not a wild night on the town for them either.
Last minute errands were run on Friday, with each of us given a list of tasks to complete. I’d teamed up with Donna and we knocked our list out early enough to relax before rehearsal and the dinner that followed.
The gathering was small with the wedding party and immediate family in attendance. Becca had been assigned to Megan, as she was the most skilled at calming a bride-to-be, and she’d sent out a message saying we needed to keep the evening as subdued as possible so as not to spook her client.
Apparently, there was some leftover trauma from Megan’s previous relationship bubbling to the surface. The guy she dated before Ryan had called things off after three years with the heartless announcement that he’d never loved her.
That type of wound went deep, and in this case at least, had waited until Megan was on the cusp of making a lifelong commitment to start poking at her brain with thoughts like How do you know he really loves you? and None of this is real .
Despite the bride and groom’s agreement to stay apart as much as possible until the start of the ceremony, Becca called an audible and suggested Ryan take his future wife out for dessert and a reassuring chat before delivering her to Hickamore House for the night.
Whatever he said worked, because Megan was back to her blissed out bouncy bride self when we got her back.
As expected, the day of the wedding was beyond hectic. Between us all getting our hair and makeup done, to getting dressed, to getting the bride dressed while Becca attempted to keep in touch with Amanda, who was boots on the ground outside, my decision to never put myself through this was once again solidified.
I would be a bridesmaid for any of my girls whenever they asked. Heck, I’d already been a bridesmaid for all of my siblings, so I had this job down. But taking on the main character role? Nope. Not interested.
“Oh my gosh, Lindsey,” Becca said, rushing toward me. “I need you to run down and steal some flowers off the trellis.”
I was game for playing my part and helping out wherever necessary, but botanical theft didn’t feel like a reasonable request. “Why would I steal flowers off the trellis?”
“Because Megan has convinced herself that the flowers in her bouquet don’t match the ones in the trellis and is insisting that she can’t possibly stand up there in front of everyone she knows with clashing flowers.”
So reasonable was out the window. Fair enough.
“Is there a certain flower I’m looking for?” I had yet to set eyes on the bouquet.
Rattling them off on her fingers, she said, “Dahlia, delphinium, and a zinnia.”
This was no time to start speaking another language. “I kill succulents, remember? Give me something else to go on.”
Unperturbed, Becca tried again. “Bright colors like orange and deep pink. Fluffy, round, with lots of tiny petals. Then find the tall skinny ones in dark blue and purple.”
Why didn’t she say all of that to begin with? “I’m on it.”
As I ran down the steps, dress hiked up to my knees, I silently thanked the bride for allowing me to wear sneakers. At the main floor, I swung around the ornate banister and bolted through the swinging door to the kitchen into a frenzy of activity. My mouth watered from the amazing smells as I did my best to bob and weave my way past the caterers too intent on their work to notice me pass through.
Once outside, I hustled around the right corner of the house toward the area of the lawn where the ceremony would take place. Crap. There were attendees already in their seats. Without a watch or my phone, I couldn’t be sure how close we were to the start time, but we were clearly closer than I realized.
The flower-covered trellis stood at the front of the setup, where the bride and groom would stand to exchange their vows. How was I going to walk up and snatch flowers without anyone thinking I’d lost my mind? Or worse, without them stepping in to stop me?
I read once that the most successful criminals had a knack for showing complete confidence in any situation. I could do that. This was an opportunity to test my long-neglected acting skills. Besides, I wasn’t actually committing a crime. If the bride needed flower reassurance, then she would get it.
Circling around the seats, I strolled toward the trellis as if I was doing nothing more than enjoying the beautiful day. A few guests glanced my way. The full length amethyst gown wasn’t exactly subtle, but it did offer me some legitimacy to be there as an obvious member of the wedding party.
The trellis was on a slightly raised platform so even the guests in the back would be able to see the couple. All I had to do was get close enough to look like I was checking something, sneak out a few flowers, and casually walk away.
No sudden moves and definitely no running. That would be a dead giveaway.
Shoulders squared, I took on a leisurely pace until I was even with the stage. Then I turned on the inquisitive look. As if I’d spotted something that needed attention. Crossing to the trellis, I stepped up just enough to semi-hide myself behind the mass of flowers. Four plucks later, I had the booty and casually strolled off back around the crowd.
When I reached the corner of the house and finally started to breathe again, a voice behind me said, “Did you just take those flowers?”
Crappola.
Determined to play this out, I turned to find Trey Collins standing three feet away dressed in a full light-gray suit with the sun beaming off his bald head. Hopefully for him he’d applied sunscreen.
“I forgot you were coming,” I said, annoyance smothering the urgency of my mission. “Why are you here?”
“Same reason you are. For the wedding.” With a half smile, he added, “You clean up well.”
An itty bitty tiny part of my brain giggled and kicked her feet, but thankfully the saner parts were unimpressed.
“You look like someone stuffed you into that suit.”
He looked down. “It’s been a while since I’ve worn it. I should probably have it let out in a few places.”
In a lot of places. And he needed to buy a bigger shirt since the current one looked to be choking him. “Are you going to answer my question?”
Trey looked up. “You answer mine first. Why are you stealing flowers?”
“I’m not stealing flowers, but if I were, it would be none of your business.”
Undeterred, he slid his hands into his pockets, straining the jacket even tighter across his shoulders. “I watched you walk up to that trellis and pluck those flowers that are in your hand. Or are you going to tell me there aren’t any flowers in your hand?”
What was it to him if I did steal flowers? Which I didn’t.
“Are you the flower police?”
“Nope, just curious.”
He wasn’t the only one. “If you saw someone else take those flowers, would you be harassing them right now? Or am I special?”
“I’d still be curious, but pestering someone else wouldn’t be as fun as pestering you.”
Dang it. Brutal honesty and unapologetic poking were two of the rare traits I found attractive. The man was speaking my love language, which meant this conversation needed to end immediately.
“I need to go,” I said, bolting toward the house and telling myself I wasn’t running away from Trey Collins. That would be the cowardly thing to do. I simply remembered that I was on an urgent mission to get this bride out the door and down the aisle.
By the time I reached the main suite up two flights of stairs, my updo was loose, my lungs were burning, and sweat was sliding down my spine into my unmentionables.
“Where have you been?” Becca snapped, taking the flowers from my hand.
“I got busted and had to talk my way out of it.”
She crossed to the dresser under the window. “The florist is still out there?”
If I said no then I’d have to explain, and I had no good explanation for my encounter with Trey. “Are those the right ones?” I asked as a deflection.
“These should work, yes.” Twirling the bouquet, she held the new flowers up beside it. “They look the same, right?”
I was no expert, but they did not look the same. The flowers in the bouquet were softer shades, though the shape and size matched. Considering the high stakes involved, I said, “Sure, but maybe show her in a dim light.”
Becca looked ready to panic. “This is no time for jokes. What are we going to do?”
One woman losing her crap was all this wedding could handle. If we lost the woman in charge, then things would really go off the rails.
Snatching the stolen flowers from her hand, I tossed them into the small waste basket and covered them with the other trash. “You’re going to tell her that we did a thorough comparison and that everything matches. Then you’re going to remind her that you have everything under control, because that’s the only thing that has kept her sane for the last month. You’re the professional here. Keep it together and get that bride to the altar.”
Relaxing her shoulders, Becca took a deep breath. “You’re right. I just need to stay calm and get her downstairs. But back me up on the color thing.”
I didn’t want to lie, but I knew Megan would do the same for me if the roles were reversed. Not that I would ever be in her shoes, but still. Friends didn’t let friends miss their own wedding over some stupid flowers.
“I’m behind you all the way.”
As we stepped into the hall, Becca turned left and I turned right. “Where are you going?” she hissed.
“To get her dad. If she won’t listen to you, she’ll listen to him.”
Megan was raised by her father alone from the age of seven and they were as close as a parent and child could be. I was surprised Becca hadn’t called him up before now.
Blinking, she said, “Why didn’t I think of that?”
Out of respect for our friendship, I opted not to answer. “Go make sure she’s ready and I’ll have him up here in two minutes.”
I found Mr. Knox waiting anxiously in the kitchen. The moment I stepped through the swinging door, he spun with a smile before disappointment clouded his expression.
“Where’s Megan? We should be at the end of the aisle by now.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Taking him by the hand, I explained on the way. “She’s having some pre-wedding…” Insanity? Idiocy? Total lack of rational thought? “nerves. Once she sees you, I’m sure she’ll come down.”
“She’s refusing to come down?” he asked, clearly concerned.
“She’s just…hesitant. Once you tell her that everything is fine, we can get this shindig underway.”
He slowed, which made tugging him more difficult. This was supposed to be a wedding, not a CrossFit workout.
“If she’s changed her mind, I’m not going to make her go through with it.”
This was no time for both of them to be irrational. “That’s not the issue, I promise.” We reached Megan’s bedroom door and I turned to him. “Tell her that everything is beautiful outside, and that she needs to come down so everyone can see her in her pretty dress. And tell her that Ryan is waiting to say how much he loves her.” Turning the doorknob, I added, “Whatever you do, don’t mention the flowers.”
With that, I shoved him into the room and closed the door. If this ended with James Knox helping his daughter ditch the whole thing, I did not want to be involved.