Chapter 29 Coco
Coco
Oh my God. It couldn’t get any worse than this.
My family. All here. Phones record. Squeals of delight ring in my ears.
Hey, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
In fact, I won’t look any horse in the mouth in case it bites my face off.
My mom wraps me in a hug that smells like lavender and mint. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Is this the same woman who said I didn’t have the job that I have? What has this stranger done with my mother?
Meanwhile, Brittany gabs into her phone, arms wide, brow scrunched with determination.
“We’re here at Sparkle Bar, where my sister’s celebrating her engagement to Stone Maddox!
” She turns to me. “Coco, were you ever going to tell us? Or were you going to let us guess it was your wedding day when you showed up in a white dress, like you did for prom? Except it wasn’t white. It was blue. Remember that?”
She laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever and then adds, “Just kidding. But isn’t this like the time you said you had a boyfriend but it was really a toad?”
“I was three,” I reply, my insides curdling.
Brittany gets right in my face. “Well?”
“Um, uh . . .” I start to panic. Can feel the bile surge up the back of my throat. The hot lights, the oxygen-stealing closeness of the crowd, my grandmother insisting Stone give her sugar while he probably wonders why this woman wants sweetener.
My stomach quivers wildly, madly, and I want to run. Worse, though I’m being congratulated, my mother’s expression is accusatory—brows knit, lips pursed. My sister’s expression is triumphant, like somehow I really screwed this up, and all of it makes me wither into a husk on the inside.
I begin to back up. “Um . . .”
That’s when Stone’s hand slides across my back, warming my skin through my blouse. He presses firmly, gently, his touch saying a dozen things all at once: I’ve got you. Breathe. Let’s get through this together. I’m not abandoning you.
I glance up at him, and he’s saying something to my dad, but one edge of his mouth twitches as if it’s just for me to see and understand.
Right. I can do this.
I inhale a deep breath and say to my mom, “We were keeping this quiet for a while, but we were going to tell you.”
“Now you can tell the world,” Brittany announces. To the camera, she adds, “To get the exclusive on Stone Maddox’s relationship with my sister, become a member. Members get top-tier access to me and behind-the-scenes bonus content.”
She’s monetizing this?
Before I can argue that my life isn’t for sale, Brittany and Jet zoom away to interview other people in Sparkle Bar, and my mom peppers me with questions about the wedding: What will I wear? When will we dress-shop? Will the wedding be here or in one of his hotels?
Most of my answers are “I’m not sure,” and “We’ll wait and see,” but that doesn’t stop Mom from focusing on me in a way that feels alien. There’s joy and warmth in her eyes, in how she touches my arm, in how proud she seems.
I can’t help but digest this moment, this feeling of standing in the spotlight, for once letting the light hit me.
Stone is still talking to my dad, but he turns and winks. I grin back, so full of happiness I might burst.
For the next hour my family takes over, talking to folks about everything from water-filtration systems to the best way to run a trout line.
It’s overwhelming, so when I get a second, I find a corner and plop into it, giving myself a chance to breathe.
Stone is in his element, apparently, talking to my dad, asking him questions about prepping. He seems genuinely interested, and it makes my heart swell.
And my family is eating it up. They fawn over him, dangling on his every word. He’s charismatic, explaining how exemplary service is the lifeblood of a hotel like he’s giving a TED Talk.
That’s when Cristina slides into the seat beside me with a smirk. She nods in Brittany’s direction. “This is intense.”
My sister keeps the camera on Stone but manages to slip herself into his stratosphere every once in a while. You know, to remind her viewers why they’ve subscribed to her channel.
“I’m surprised Brittany hasn’t turned this into a competition where you can win ten thousand dollars by seeing who can outdrink Stone Maddox,” my friend says, sipping her beer.
I chuckle. “She wouldn’t do that.”
Cristina gives me a death stare.
“Okay, she would definitely do that.”
We both laugh, and it’s then that I remember the good news. “I know where Dot is.”
“Who?”
“The woman who owned the spell book.”
Cristina sits up. “No! When will you see her?”
“Tomorrow, if you want. Maybe she can shed some light on things. There’s only one hitch.”
“What’s that?”
“She’s at a nursing home. I don’t know if she can receive visitors.”
“We’ll find out.” Cristina pulls gloss from her purse and reapplies a slick pink coat to her lips. “This feels really real.”
“What does?”
“The way you two are together. It’s hard to explain.”
“You don’t have to.”
Her gaze falls on me. “So I’m not imagining it.”
“Nope.”
“You sense it, too, then?”
“Sense what?”
She shakes her head. “That it’s almost like fate, you two. I’m the last person who should be saying this, but you seem really good together. You know, if the circumstances were different and Stone knew who he was, I’d say you had a chance.”
“Yeah,” I reply, ignoring how her words make me shrink. Focus on the good, Coco! “But no worries, we’ll get what we need as long as Dot knows about the flower. If her mind is gone, then where will we be?”
“With Brittany shoving a phone in your face and asking Stone if thousand-dollar bills are a real thing.”
I burst into laughter. “Stop it.”
Cristina gasps.
My gaze tracks hers to the door. Just inside it stands a man with trimmed dark hair, tight jeans, a button-down shirt, and a swagger that’s either from false confidence or more cockiness than is legal to own.
In this case, it’s false confidence—just my humble opinion.
“What’s Jace doing here?” Cristina says in a hushed voice.
“Hmm. Maybe he’ll go away in five minutes, once he sees all the people.”
“Maybe.”
He walks up to the bar. Isaac takes his drink order and then turns and spots Cristina. He gives her a look that silently asks if she’s okay, and Cristina nods.
Jace then spots his ex and his jaw tightens. He takes the beer Isaac slides in front of him and swaggers over to us.
The only thing that would be worse right now was if Luke Preston showed up. He works at the bank and is just the worst human being ever.
I nudge her with my shoe. “You don’t have to talk to him.”
“It’s fine. I can do this.”
“Before you go all sad-eyes on me, let me remind you what he said: That man, who you think is handsome, said you could be his first wife. Not his only wife. His first one. Meaning he never planned for anything serious to happen between y’all. Once again I ask, can you be strong?”
Cristina lifts her head. Her chin wobbles for a moment before she grits her teeth. “I can be strong.”
Jace reaches the table, takes a pull of his beer, and swipes the back of his arm across his mouth. “Hey, Cristina. Coco.”
“Hey,” she says.
I don’t answer. Jace is a bottom-feeder, the worst of the worst. He stands there, shifting uncomfortably, most likely waiting for an invitation to sit.
Cristina starts, “Jace would you like to—”
I kick the chair closest to us so that it falls over. When Jace reaches to right it, I drop my heels on top, turning the chair into a footstool.
Oops! There goes Cristina’s chance to ask if he wants to take a seat. What is wrong with her?
“What brings you to Sparkle Bar?” I ask.
He casually glances over his shoulder. “Just meeting some friends.” He points to the balloons and lights. “What’s the party about?”
“Coco got engaged.”
His eyes widen. “You did? That’s great. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“What do you want, Jace?” I snap. It’s none of his business who I’m fake-engaged to.
“Wanted to say hey.”
“Hey.”
There’s a long, uncomfortable pause, and then Jace gives us a nod. “See ya.”
He turns and walks off. Soon as he’s out of earshot, Cristina smacks my arm. “You didn’t have to be rude.”
“Yes, I did.” Cristina watches him go, and I run a finger over the rim of my glass. “He wasn’t good for you. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you staring after him?”
She shrugs. “Because I still care?”
“Girl, there aren’t just more fish in the sea—there are better fish, good fish, great fish, wonderful fish who will love you exactly the way you are. That’s the kind of fish you deserve.”
Isn’t it also the kind I deserve?
I look at Stone. He’s laughing at something my dad said, eyes crinkling, warm and wide open. Then, without warning, he looks at me—and everything in me tightens.
I like him so much my body throbs with agony at the idea of him changing back, of letting him become the man who hates lambicorns.
The moment he remembers who he is, this all disappears—the laughter, Hercules, the way he touches my back.
“Are you okay?”
No, not even a tad. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Cristina leans forward, and I smell the hops on her breath when she says flatly, “You are so cooked.”
My throat tightens. “You don’t think he’ll forgive me when he finds out?”
“Not easily. Not cleanly.”
I could live with him not forgiving me. But what if I can’t forgive myself?