Chapter 4
FOUR
Scarlett
“What do you mean you haven’t said yes to all of the wedding festivities?
It’s like a weeklong, paid vacation.” Gabriella is standing across the barista counter from me, her brows knitted together as I slice a fresh strawberry pie I made at midnight last night.
The hockey wives and girlfriends—the WAGs, as they’re known—are all at a table this morning, waiting for their pastries.
“We came to an agreement,” I say matter-of-factly.
“I go with him to the wedding as his plus-one. He helps me get the vendor contract at the arena. It’s just a business transaction.
That’s it.” I need to stick with the deal we agreed to.
The second I start thinking of it as anything else, I’m going to get hurt.
And I’ve already done that once. “I’m not there to hang out with his family or score a free stay at the Marco mansion. ”
“But I would!” she shrieks.
“And I’m not you.”
I know she thinks I’m turning down the best opportunity of my life, but after seeing the look on Isabella Marco’s face, I can’t disappoint her, or anyone else in that family, more than I already have.
I feel Gabriella’s hot stare burning into me, but I refuse to let her guilt me into it. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t understand you. Why can’t you just let yourself have fun for once? You’re the one who’s totally burned out, working long shifts, while trying to help your dad. You deserve a break.”
“I appreciate your concern. But I don’t want to pretend to be Brendan’s girlfriend for an entire week. It sounds like too much togetherness.”
“But the Marco family doesn’t do anything small. That’s why you’d have so much fun!” She gives me an enthusiastic smile, but she doesn’t understand the consequences of this decision.
It’s only been a week since I crashed into Brendan Marco and agreed to this insane charade, and I’m already second-guessing my decision to be his wedding date. I don’t need emotional complications, especially with a man who already broke my heart once.
We met in high school, back when Brendan spent his summers in Sully’s Beach with his family. The Marcos were one of those wealthy families with a summer house on the beach—a version of life that felt like fantasy to me.
With his summer tan, backwards cap, and warm, brown eyes, I hadn’t stood a chance. Falling for him had felt inevitable, especially given how much time we spent together.
My brother had warned me to stay away, but I hadn’t cared about being reckless. I’d wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before the season ended.
Neither of us had planned what happened later that night.
He’d set up a projector and screen on the beach—his idea, which I should have recognized as significant, because Brendan didn’t do things like that for just anyone.
We watched The Princess Bride with a bonfire going behind us, and the whole night felt perfect.
Brendan was supposed to take his sister home afterwards, but instead, he’d sent her ahead without him.
He’d just graduated, and we both knew everything was about to change.
It had started innocently enough—wading into the water to our knees, fully clothed, kicking at the waves. I’d stolen his baseball cap and put it on, and that’s when I caught it: the spark in his eyes. He liked seeing me in his things.
When he noticed me shivering, he’d offered his sweatshirt. It had swallowed me whole, covering my hands, hanging to my thighs, but smelled like fresh laundry and whatever soap he used, and I never wanted to take it off.
Then “Cruel Summer” played on his phone, and without thinking, I took his hands and started to dance, even though he hated dancing. To my surprise, he didn’t push me away; instead, his arms looped around my waist while the waves lapped against our ankles and our wet clothes clung to our skin.
The beach faded around us, all the world narrowing to just him and me, swaying to music with the ocean at our feet. It had felt right, his warmth against mine, his eyes tracing my face.
I’d been so caught up in him that I’d stumbled on his foot. His hands had caught me instantly, pulling me closer to keep me from falling. And suddenly we were inches apart, our bodies pressed together, and something snapped between us.
The next thing I knew, we were both kissing, our mouths crashing together, like someone had uncorked a bottle that had been shaken too long.
Our kiss had been urgent and awkward, the way young love often is—all teeth and bumping noses, hands grasping at damp skin, the taste of salt water on his lips. We’d both known time was running out. He’d be leaving in a month. School would start again. This moment would be all I’d have of him.
But then our song had been interrupted by a phone call. And what followed turned our first kiss into a nightmare.
His sister had been in an accident on her way home. Brendan ran to meet his family at the hospital, and I’d followed, but stayed in the lobby. After hours of waiting, his uncle told me to go home, that Brendan didn’t need me there and that this was for family only.
So I’d left, and waited for some news from him. A text. A phone call. Anything.
But all I got was silence.
I understood that his sister’s accident devastated his family—but not hearing back from him devastated me.
And then he left for the Marines without a word, and I’ve never understood why.
So that’s why saying yes to this feels like handing him the opportunity to hurt me again. I know what happens when I let myself believe there’s something there. I read into things too easily, and then I find out the other person was never even into me.
“I don’t know, Gabriella.” I slice through another plump strawberry. “What if I’m terrible at charming rich people? What if I spill something on Rafael Marco at the wedding? What if—”
“What if you stop finding excuses and just say yes to the whole thing?” She leans on her elbow, giving me her you’re being ridiculous look. “I already asked the girls over there if they’d help cover your shifts. They all said yes.”
I glance toward the table of WAGs, who are all smiling at me like they know something I don’t. Considering this town’s gossip network, they probably do know something I don’t.
“What exactly did you tell them?” I ask through a frozen grin, then drop my voice. “I haven’t even told my family about our…situation.” I whisper the last word.
“I told them you’re dating.”
I stop mid-slice. “But did you tell them the truth? That we’re not really…”
“DATING?” she says at a volume that could probably be heard all over the cafe.
“Shh!” I practically dive across the counter to shush her. “You cannot say that word so loud!”
She rolls her eyes. “You might think it’s only one date, but pretty soon everyone in town will be talking about you and Coach Marco. Welcome to small-town celebrity status.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I mutter. “Which is why I’m planning on telling as few people as possible.”
I grab a chocolate brownie from the bakery case and slide it onto a red plate for my friend Janie Bennett.
The petite blonde is dating Crushers defenseman Rourke Riley—a whirlwind romance that developed, thanks to a Christmas pageant he was forced to volunteer for.
Now they’re completely obsessed with each other, which gives me hope that it could happen to me someday.
The thing is, I have spectacularly bad luck with men.
Take Jaxon, the hockey player I went to the team Christmas party with.
I thought we’d had a perfectly nice time, but apparently I was wrong because he never contacted me again.
It hadn’t helped that Brendan spent the entire night glaring at him like a jealous boyfriend with a touch her and die complex.
“It’s why I didn’t want you to tell anyone.” I arrange a slice of peanut butter pie on a plate, while Gabriella starts on Lauren’s latte. “What if I back out? What if this whole thing explodes in our faces?”
“Scarlett.” She stops frothing milk to face me. “There is no backing out. Why would you want to? They have a room for you at the Marco estate. That’s like getting invited to hang out at some Netflix reality-show mansion. Even these girls are jealous.” She nods toward the WAGs’ table.
“There’s nothing to be jealous of. I’m just going to a wedding in a nice venue with the assistant coach.” The words are barely out of my mouth when I freeze like someone just dumped ice water over my head. “Wait. I’M DATING THE ASSISTANT COACH? That means I’m one of them.”
Never in my wildest dreams—and I’ve had some pretty creative ones involving Chris Evans and an elevator meet-cute—did I think I’d join the WAGs club.
“You just figured that out?” Gabriella stares at me like I’ve been living under a rock.
“I’ve never been part of his professional world, okay?
” I grab the tray of desserts and head toward their table.
“I’m the girl who knows everyone but never belonged anywhere.
” Especially not in the Marcos’ world, where everything is polished, and I’d probably ruin the aesthetic just by showing up in my hoodie and ripped jeans.
But the thing is, they don’t know I’m a fraud. Or that this whole arrangement is really just an opportunity to get the vendor contract.
“Hey, Scarlett!” Jaz greets me with a smile. “I heard you’re dating Coach Marco? Very impressive. Especially since that man hasn’t asked out anyone in years.”
“Well, it’s not that serious yet,” I say nervously, reaching for the strawberry pie. “And I don’t really think of him as a coach. He’s just Brendan to me.”
The girls exchange knowing looks, probably thinking I’m being modest. But really, he’ll always be the boy who hung out during summers on the beach and then disappeared into the Marines.
Jaz takes the pie from me while bouncing baby Rosie on her lap. “Coach Marco’s whipping our boys into shape, the Marine Corps way.”