Chapter One
LEO
"Mr. Whitley, your room is ready," the receptionist said, looking up at with me with a smile.
"Perfect. Is the wedding party already here?"
"Yes. Are you from the groom’s or the bride's side?"
"The bride.” Tory Sanders had been my best friend forever.
"Welcome to New Orleans. Do you need information about the city?"
"No, I'm only here for the wedding. Do you know if the bride and groom will arrive before the rehearsal?" Tory had sent me the schedule a few weeks ago, but it got lost in my email. That was my excuse, and I was sticking to it.
"They’re spending the night here. They checked in a few hours ago, and I'm fairly certain they’re in the ballroom."
"Excellent. Please have someone take my luggage upstairs, and I'll go find them."
"Certainly. And if there’s anything you need, sir, don't hesitate to call the reception desk. The ballroom is that way." She pointed to the left of the lobby.
"Thank you."
“Do you need someone to help you find it?"
"I'm good."
I was looking forward to seeing Tory. Even though we'd been best friends in college, we'd slowly drifted apart over the last few years. Work got in the way for both of us, and living in different cities didn't help either. Boston was my hometown, and Tory lived in New Orleans.
I followed the signs inscribed with Tory’s and Walter's names pointing toward the ballroom. I'd met the guy twice over the past few years and didn’t like him much, but I wasn’t the one marrying him. All that mattered was that Tory was happy. The problem was, no one was good enough for my friend.
In the corridor leading to the ballroom, I heard soft voices.
I recognized Tory's before she came into view.
She was chatting with another woman and her fiancé, gesticulating widely.
She always talked with her hands. It was one of the things that caught my attention on orientation day at Boston College—along with her stunning figure, but that was beside the point.
She was tall, with an athletic but curvy body.
Her blonde hair used to be darker, but now it was very light. It suited her, though.
I stayed put, waiting for them to finish their conversation. To give myself something to do, I called my gran to let her know I'd arrived. My grandparents, Jeannie and Abe Whitley, were some of my favorite people in the world. They were both in their nineties but sharp as ever.
I stepped inside a small alcove as Gran answered.
"Darling, hi. How’s Tory?"
"I haven't talked to her yet. She's with her wedding planner or something."
"Do send her our love, will you? And that I wish her all the happiness in the world."
"Will do, Gran."
"When are you coming back exactly?"
"Sunday evening. Is there a family dinner?"
“No, not this week.”
Gran liked to gather the family from time to time. Since I had seven brothers and six of them had better halves, that was always quite an endeavor and required a bit of planning.
"You want me to bring you something from New Orleans?" I asked.
"You are always so considerate. Just between us, I'd say you’re my most considerate grandson."
I proudly accepted that title. With so many of us Whitley brothers, it was hard to stand out.
"How come you're not staying longer in New Orleans?” she asked. “It's such a grand city."
"No rest for the wicked. Whitley Real Estate can't run without me."
"I hope you and your brothers will learn that there’s more to life than work. Although, most of them are already on a good path. It's just you and Nick who…"
"Who what?" I challenged even though I knew what she was about to say. I was barely holding back my laughter.
"One of these days, I'll find the perfect women for you two as well."
"See, Gran? We’re both workaholics in our own way. I focus my efforts on Whitley Real Estate, while you focus yours on…" I couldn't say the word. I really couldn't.
"Matchmaking my grandsons," Gran finished easily.
"Yeah, that."
It wouldn’t work on me, but I’d told her that repeatedly already.
Besides, if having this goal made her happy, then so be it.
She’d been successful with most of my brothers, one way or another, which only encouraged her further.
But marriage simply wasn't my path—not after watching how much destruction a failed relationship could leave behind.
As teenagers, my brothers, Nick and Maddox, and I found out that Dad had another family, and it turned our world upside down.
I realized that the voices in the corridor had quieted, so I peeked my head out around the corner. "Gran, I've got to go."
"Smooth way of avoiding the topic."
"I just noticed that Tory's free, and I want to take advantage of the moment."
She chuckled. "All right, then. Have fun, dear."
"Thanks, Gran."
I pocketed the phone and strolled toward Tory. She was still chatting with Walter, but the other woman was gone.
They must have heard my footsteps, because they both looked in my direction. Tory's face immediately transformed with a huge smile. If she ever participated in a smiling contest, I was sure she'd win first place.
"Hey, Leo. I totally forgot you were coming so early."
"I've just checked in," I said.
"Hey, man." Walter stretched out his hand, and I shook it.
"All good?" I focused on Tory, scanning her expression. Her smile had faded a bit. I zeroed in on her blue eyes. They were slightly glassy. Was she just tired, or was it something else?
"I can't wait for the wedding to be over," Walter said. "It's a circus."
Tory jerked her head back as if he'd cracked a whip in front of her. That was a very shitty thing to say to your fiancée. I might not be husband material, but even I knew that much.
Tory had always been one to daydream about her wedding day, and I guessed she was striving for perfection. No doubt that likely weighed a bit on Walter, but he could give her that much—this was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, after all.
Once, in college, I overheard her talking with a friend, saying that she had a Pinterest board for her wedding and had been adding stuff she liked for years. Honestly, it was one of the reasons why I'd never asked her out—not that I didn't want to, of course.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy the wedding once it actually starts," I said.
"Doubtful," he replied.
I wanted to snap at the moron, but out of respect for Tory, I kept my mouth shut.
"Well, I'll leave the two of you," he said. "I need a break from all this."
"Don't forget that the rehearsal dinner starts at six o'clock, okay?" Tory said timidly.
Walter just stared at her. "I know, Tory. It's on the schedule."
"Never hurts to have a reminder, man," I said in a forced lighthearted tone. What the hell is wrong with him?
He just shook his head and ran off.
I took in a huge breath, determined not to say anything against the dude. I couldn't believe it, but I was pretty sure I disliked him even more after that than before—which was definitely saying something.
I trained my gaze on Tory, trying to figure out if all was okay with them.
"How are you doing?" I asked her.
She smiled weakly. "It's been a bit busy lately. Tensions are running high. But I think you're right. Once the wedding starts, we'll be able to relax and enjoy it. At least I hope so."
"I'm sure of it. Do you have any free time at all to catch up with an old friend over coffee?"
That megawatt smile was back. Fuck, I loved it. Why was Walter such a moron? He should have been keeping this woman smiling all the time.
"That's a great idea. I need some energy anyway. The day has drained me." She wrapped an arm around mine, and I patted her hand. "I'm so happy you’re here a bit early."
"You know me. I'm chronically late, but I didn't want to be late to my best friend’s rehearsal dinner."
We went through the lobby, but in the opposite direction from the reception.
"Do they have good coffee here?” I asked. “Or we could head over to Café Du Monde.” The receptionist had recommended them.
"How about here? I don't have that much time, and I'd rather not waste it running back and forth. And besides, the wedding planner is still around. She keeps remembering things randomly and comes to find me."
I nodded. "Then coffee at the hotel it is.”
"Thanks for being so understanding."
I stopped in my tracks and put both hands on her shoulders as I stood in front of her. "Tory, this day, this weekend, it's all about you being happy. Don't try to accommodate me. Besides, I'm easygoing—you know that."
"God, I’ve missed you so much." Out of nowhere, she hugged me. I hugged her right back, inhaling her apple fragrance.
She'd never changed it in all these years. If you blindfolded me and gave me a hundred perfumes to smell, I’d recognize this one without a second's hesitation. It was simply Tory.
"I’ve missed you too," I murmured.
She didn't say anything for a few seconds, and I simply held her. Clearly, she needed it. Gran's voice resounded in my ears. "A kind word and a hug never hurt anyone. If anything, they can save a life."
"Gran says congratulations, by the way," I said out of the blue. "And she wishes you all the happiness in the world."
Tory straightened up. To my astonishment, she was sniffling.
"Tory?" My voice sounded panicked, but I was completely out of my depth. My brothers’ significant others often said that there were happy tears and sad tears, but I couldn't comprehend the concept of happy tears. And right here, right now, Tory didn't look happy at all.
"Um, let's head to the coffee shop and find a table in a corner." She didn't want anyone to see her tearing up. Got it.
"I'm on it," I assured her.
It was more difficult than I’d anticipated to find a secluded table, mostly because the coffee shop slash bar was in the middle of a huge room that was connected to the garden in the backyard, but I finally found a table near a wall that had plants offering a bit of privacy around it.
I pointed for Tory to sit where she had her back toward the open space.
"Decaf cappuccino with almond milk and two spoonfuls of sugar?"