Chapter 32
ELIZA
Completely shocked, I stared at Eugenie and she stared back at me with a kind of knowing look in her eyes that set me on edge. “What are you doing here?”
She smiled, but it wasn’t warm or happy. Strangely, it seemed calculating. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t seem strange at all.
Eugenie was always up to something, working some kind of angle to advance whatever goal she had in mind, but it had been so long since I’d last seen her that I couldn’t figure out what possible angle she could already have.
“I came to see you, silly.” She arched an eyebrow when I didn’t step aside to let her in. “Well, are you going to leave me on the doorstep all day?”
I eyed her for a long moment, blinking hard as I tried to the process the fact that she was here. “No, of course not. I apologize. You’ve just caught me off guard.”
I finally moved out of the way and she breezed past me in a cloud of perfume and judgment.
My big sister, as always, was dressed in only the finest designer clothing, a white linen suit with a striking pink blouse underneath, her nose slightly elevated as her gaze swept across the interior of the townhouse.
“This is where you’ve been living?” she said incredulously, almost like she couldn’t quite fathom it. “It’s rather dull, isn’t it?”
I closed the door behind her, resisting the urge to check for cameras outside. Either we were on one of those reality TV programs and I was being pranked, or this was some elaborate mistake.
“Compared to our house in London, I mean,” she said lightly, as though that softened her harsh opinion. “Perhaps you should speak to him about redecorating.”
I sighed. “It’s Will’s house, Eugenie. Not Jesse’s. I’m not redecorating anything here.”
“Oh.” She looked around again, something in her gaze sharpening. “I suppose that makes more sense. Will always has been rather dull himself. It’s only fitting that his home would reflect that.”
“What are you doing here?” I repeated, a little more impatiently this time.
Her lips pressed into a delicate pout, her lashes batting as if that might make me feel bad about asking. “Is that any way to greet your sister?”
“When she arrives unannounced in another country, it feels appropriate,” I said. “Honestly, Genie. You could’ve texted me.”
She laughed, apparently unbothered by her less than warm welcome now that she’d given up the act. “I’ve missed that about you, how you think everything in life has to be planned.”
“I doubt that.”
She hummed, stepping further into the house and letting her fingers brush over the console table as she passed, silently judging even the furniture. “It’s not every day that my little sister marries my ex-boyfriend.”
Ice trickled through me. So that’s why she’s here. I knew the radio silence wouldn’t last forever.
She said it casually, but there was poison lacing her tone and it set me right back on that edge I’d been on when I’d first seen her standing at our door. “I didn’t realize you cared. I’ve barely heard from you since the engagement.”
“Oh, I care, but that’s not why I’m here.” She turned to face me, her expression bright again. “Mother sent me.”
Well, that explains everything and nothing all at once. My eyes narrowed of their own accord, confusion and suspicion awakening in me. “Why?”
“She thought that you might need a little help. Weddings take a lot of planning after all.” Eugenie strolled further into the house like she was giving herself a tour, her perfectly straightened blonde hair shining under the downlights.
“You’re so famously bad at prioritizing details when it comes to your appearance. ”
Gosh, I’ve forgotten how much it stings, just speaking to her. “I’ve managed so far.”
She glanced back at me, one eyebrow lifting like she seriously doubted that could be true. “The clock is ticking, Eliza. Have you even thought about your dress yet?”
I pressed my lips together. “Well, I’ve thought about it.”
“And that, sister dear, is exactly why Mom sent me,” she said. “We’ve got an appointment at a bridal boutique in an hour.”
“That was quick.” Besides, why would anyone ask me what I wanted when decisions can simply be made for me?
“Time is a luxury you don’t have,” she replied like she was doing me a favor. “Every designer hates a rushed bride and they’re already going to be under pressure, getting it done so soon.”
I let out a slow breath, already feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. I should’ve known they would pull something like this. My mother and Eugenie were cut from the same cloth, closer to one another than I’d ever been to either of them.
Even as children, when Genie and I had been so much closer than we were now, she’d been our mother’s clear number one. She had never done anything wrong in Mom’s eyes.
“Why isn’t she here herself if she’s so worried about what I’ll wear?” I asked, wondering if I should be hurt that apparently even my wedding could be outsourced to somebody else to help with. “Surely, she could’ve come with you.”
Eugenie waved me off. “Don’t be so selfish. Mother is busy. As am I, but I made the time.”
I let out a slow, quiet breath but nodded. Sadly, I wasn’t the least bit surprised that Mom was too busy to be here with me in the run-up to my wedding day. “I’ll go get ready.”
Arguing with Eugenie was like trying to reason with a particularly elegant brick wall. There was no way I was getting out of this. My best option was getting through it as fast as I could.
“Try not to take too long, but do make yourself presentable.” She drifted into the kitchen, still looking over every inch of the place like she was mentally redesigning.
I was halfway to my bedroom when my phone rang. Reaching into my pocket, I felt tears spring to my eyes when I saw it was Jesse. I smiled, seriously not sure how he’d known that I needed him right now, but he seemed to have a real knack for it.
“Hi, Jesse,” I said, trying to keep my voice level, but it wobbled a bit anyway.
“Hey you. What’s going on?”
I glanced down the staircase, where Eugenie was now inspecting something on a bookshelf. “It seems I have a guest.”
“Who is it?” he asked urgently, almost like he thought I might be in danger.
“It’s alright. It’s just my sister.”
“Which one?”
“Eugenie,” I said. “Apparently, she’s come on orders from our mother to help me find a wedding dress.”
“That’s unexpected,” he said carefully, but his voice was tighter now. In fact, he sounded almost worried again. “Has she, uh, has she said anything about, uh, about us? Me? You?”
“No.” I frowned. “Well, she did mention that it’s not every day that your sister marries your ex-boyfriend, but she didn’t seem too put out by it.”
“Okay. That’s good.”
“I’ll call you later,” I said. “I’d better go get ready before she decides to redecorate the house entirely before our appointment at the boutique.”
There was a quiet exhale on the other end. “Yeah. Call me.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause on the landing, that familiar doubt creeping into my gut.
Before I could question it, he hung up and I sighed, seriously starting to question my own sanity.
I’d never been paranoid or suspicious, but it was like every second thought I had these days was about how odd something was.
In any event, even if I was losing my mind, I went to get ready for the boutique, knowing that Eugenie wasn’t exactly somebody I could talk to about this and she wouldn’t have patience with me if I held us up.
Precisely an hour later, we walked into a bridal shop with polished white floors, soft lighting, and racks of impossibly beautiful dresses lining the walls. Eugenie strode in ahead of me, like she was the one getting married.
“This is perfect,” she declared loudly as I followed her in.
It looked like that was my only role today, going along for the ride. When it came to my family, this was a role I was exceedingly familiar with, but I was hoping she would at least take my opinions into consideration today.
“This is lovely,” I said, reaching for the first dress that caught my eye. It was simple, elegant, and understated. “What do you think?”
Eugenie glanced at it for no more than a second before she scoffed. “No.”
I sighed. “Are you sure? It’s stunning.”
She was already scanning the next rack, her back to me as she shook her head. “It’s not. It’s boring.”
“I like boring.”
“Yes, well,” she said, pulling out a dress that was significantly more elaborate. “This isn’t about what you like, is it?”
“Are you sure? It is my wedding, after all. I feel like what I like should at least matter a little bit.”
“What do you think of this one?” She held the dress out toward me, the sequins shimmering under the lights and feathers sticking out of the bodice. “This is the kind of look you should be going for.”
“I don’t know,” I mused out loud, not wanting to be rude since a sales assistant was standing within earshot. “I’m not sure that’s quite me. It’s rather a lot, isn’t it?”
“It’s a wedding dress,” she said. “It’s meant to be a lot.”
“I suppose.”
She handed it off to the assistant without waiting for my agreement, then finally looked at me again. “Besides, Jesse will expect something more impactful. He is a Westwood, after all. Their name comes with certain expectations and responsibilities.”
I frowned. “Do you really think he’d expect me to wear something specific, though?”
“Of course,” she said. “He always has liked things that make a statement.”
That doesn’t sound right. “He doesn’t seem particularly concerned with statements to me.”
Eugenie paused for just for a second before smiling a smile that didn’t reach her eyes at all.
There was a strange twinkle in them, though.
“Well, that’s new. Although I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.
That man has never been consistent. With him, things change all the time. It’s part of his allure.”
Something in my chest tightened. The Jesse I knew wasn’t wishy-washy or inconsistent.