Chapter Sixty-Three Adrianna
Chapter Sixty-Three
ADRIANNA
Georgia and I have arranged an emergency meeting in the dining room at the main house, while Mark freshens up from the flight.
It’s a strange backdrop for a family crisis. A perfectly laid table of fake food and a picture window with a view out across the island. Storm clouds are on the horizon and the tropical heat is turning. Palm trees dance with the heightening wind.
Since I got the news of Silky’s social media post, I’ve been numb. It doesn’t feel real. I guess this is what shock feels like.
‘We can fix the flowers, right?’ I confirm. ‘Without Silky.’
Georgia’s forehead crinkles. ‘Of course we can,’ she says. ‘Silky was always just the name we attached. I never expected her to manage the execution in any meaningful way. But … You’re really sure this is what you want? A big announcement that the wedding is still on?’
I shake my long chestnut hair, and fix a smile on my face.
‘Mark and I are relieved. Simone’s killer has been exposed. I’m safe …’
The door bangs open, and Dad enters, looking tired and hot, without his usual security entourage. Petra has the decency to stay away for once, I notice.
‘I came as soon as I could,’ he says. ‘How are you doing?’
It’s the first time I’ve heard anything like sympathy in Dad’s tone. He moves closer and kisses me on both cheeks, then moves to kiss Georgia.
‘The sponsor pulling out is bad news,’ he says, instantly reverting to business. ‘But we can handle it. I’ll call the drinks brand,’ he decides. ‘Harvey owes me a favor. They can take the main slot.’
‘Dad,’ says Georgia. ‘Do you not think this is too much stress for Dri?’ Her eyes scoot back and forth between us. ‘Shouldn’t we call it off?’
‘And leave one hundred highly influential guests stranded on the tarmac at Bogota?’ I demand. ‘The business would never survive it.’
Dad’s face falls. ‘Adrianna,’ he says, ‘we can find a way …’
‘With one sponsor already gone? I’ve seen the figures,’ I tell him shortly. ‘And in any case, I love Mark.’ I close my eyes. ‘This is good news. The killer has been caught. Why wouldn’t we go ahead? We can stage a victorious family photoshoot on the balcony.’
Georgia cradles her head briefly in her manicured fingers. ‘Dri, you always do this!’
‘Do what?’
‘You have this twisted idea that as long as your life looks good in pictures, everything is fine. Real life isn’t a TV show. You can’t just face your demons and they vanish like smoke. Even if the pictures make it look that way.’
We’re interrupted by Mark entering the dining room. He looks immaculate as always, clean-shaven, in a geometric print shirt and pressed linen shorts.
‘Are we ready to assemble the bridesmaids?’ He looks around the room. I cross the carpet to hold his hand, comforted as always to be around his cool, calm demeanor.
‘Yes,’ I nod. ‘Georgia, can you ask Petra, Ophelia and Holly to come in here?’
‘Holly?’ Mark’s dark brows dance with anxiety. I latch onto it immediately. Something’s wrong.
‘Mark,’ I say carefully. ‘Is there something you’re not telling us about Holly?’