Chapter 29 Mira
Applause erupts throughout the room, glasses clink in celebration, and the happy couple lean in for a kiss. But I don’t move. I barely take a single photo, as Hudson’s words override my instinct to capture the moment.
I’m pretty sure he just declared his love for me in front of his entire family.
Of course, they were all unaware of who he was talking about, especially since Susan kept glancing over at Katherine in hopeful admiration, but Hudson’s gaze never moved from mine.
And when I see Adrian slide a twenty over the table to Vanessa, who proudly stuffs it into her bra, my hypothesis is confirmed.
I want to run over to him, kiss him, or slap him for publicly declaring his love, but I’m reminded I still have a job to do as he hands the microphone over to Katherine. If she is rattled by his speech, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she plasters on a smile and takes her place in the spotlight.
“I’m so happy to be here with all of you, celebrating the love between Meredith and Grant. I know I haven’t known you as long as some of the people here, but my love for you both is boundless,” she says. I move around the room, snapping photos.
The top table is placed on the far-right side of the room, backed up against the wall, meaning I have to stand in the center of the hall to capture not only Katherine but also the guests’ reactions to the speeches. Most of whom are still weepy from Hudson’s words. Words directed at me.
Every time I think about them, I get dizzy. All those nights I stayed late at the bar, all those texts we shared in early mornings and mid-afternoons, they meant just as much to him as they did to me. To know that what I’ve been feeling is more than a childish crush grounds me.
I move around to get another angle, stopping besides Hudson’s chair.
I try to focus on Katherine’s speech. She’s muttering about Pilates and girls’ nights spent at the local wine bar, but her words are lost as I focus on the way Hudson’s finger grazes against my calf, trailing up the exposed skin, while I click the shutter aimlessly.
I know I should move, capture more of the guests’ reactions, but I stay put—not willing to part from Hudson yet.
It isn’t until Katherine raises her glass that I focus, snapping photos of the hug Meredith offers her best friend as she wipes away tears.
I hate to admit that watching them together makes me wistful.
Even if I have Hudson, it doesn’t erase what I’ve lost; it can’t overwrite the grief still heavy in my heart.
I sit with it for a moment as waiters float into the room, carrying trays of salad plates as dinner service begins.
Since Susan arranged this soiree, I know there won’t be a place setting waiting for me, a fact confirmed when Amelia passes by and says, “There’s a vendor meal waiting for you in the parlor.”
Grateful for a few minutes of solitude to collect my thoughts, I scuttle to the corner, set my camera down and sneak out of the room.
I only make it a few feet before Hudson pulls me towards an empty hallway. His mouth is against mine in an instant and it takes all my mental resolve to break away.
“You have to go back in,” I tell him, knowing his absence won’t go unnoticed.
“One more minute,” Hudson breathes, his teeth biting the sensitive skin of my collarbone, then my neck, then my lower lip.
There’s nothing but the wall and his sturdy arm keeping me upright.
His lips move up my jaw and towards my ear, his voice barely a whisper when he says, “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you?”
“You did a pretty good job of it at Finn’s,” I joke.
“That was before I knew that you wanted this too,” he says, his fingers trailing up the slit of my dress, stopping just below my hip. “Before I knew what you felt like.”
I don’t know if it’s the champagne or the declaration, but I’m thoroughly enjoying this new emboldened Hudson.
“It would be so easy, wouldn’t it? If I just moved my hand . . . here,” he whispers, and I shudder at the closeness of his skin, the scratch of his stubble against my neck.
He curls a finger underneath the fabric, my nerve endings on high alert as he runs a knuckle upwards. I lean forward, resting my chin against his shoulder, before we hear footsteps coming down the hall.
My heart is racing. I move away from him, readjusting my dress.
“It’s just Derrick,” I say, watching him carry a bottle of bourbon down the hall.
“I can’t stand that you’ve kissed that asshole,” Hudson fumes. “I should have set that fire the second I saw him sit beside you.”
“You set the fire!”
A familiar blush crawls up his neck and into his cheeks.
“Smokey Bear would be so disappointed in you.”
“I think he’d give me a pass this once,” he says, brushing his lips against the tender skin of my neck. We waste another few minutes in the hallway until I hear the clink of glasses coming from the dining hall.
“If we miss any more of the evening we’ll both be in trouble,” I say, moving away to straighten my dress.
“You go in first,” Hudson says, leaning back against the wall, and I make sure to walk as slowly as possible.
Inside, waiters are placing second courses in front of the hungry guests. The scent of prime rib and Mac and cheese makes my stomach rumble.
“Mira, over here,” Vanessa calls, scooting out the chair beside her. “We have an extra seat.”
“Who died?” I joke, knowing that Hudson’s mom isn’t the kind of woman to miscount.
“We were supposed to be sitting with Grant’s great-aunt and uncle, but I think they bailed after the boat ride. No one’s seen them on the property since,” Vanessa says, sliding a plate over to me.
“Their loss is my gain,” I say, reaching for the roll on the plate, tearing off a piece to pop in my mouth. It’s delicious, warm, and buttery, and it melts in my mouth. “I’m absolutely famished.”
“Multiple orgasms will do that to a person,” Vanessa jabs, and I almost choke on my roll. “What? You were gone for like thirty minutes, and your lips have that extra, just-got-fucked pout about them. So, unless you snuck out for a quick Botox session, I’m assuming you ran off with Hudson?”
Instinctively I bring my hand to my face. “Oh God? Do they?”
Vanessa chuckles as the door opens, Hudson making his way into the room, his cheeks flushed and the green of his irises flickering like gemstones as his eyes cut through the crowd to find me.
There’s a subtle smirk on his face, similar to those shared between children sneaking ice cream for dinner, as he takes his place at the top table.
Taking another bite of my roll, I feel my phone vibrate in my bag. I sneak a glance at Hudson, wondering if he’s sending me dirty texts from across the room, but the anticipation burning in my belly is snuffed out when I read the notification.
Your review has been removed by poster.
I read the message again, stunned by the words on the screen.
Your review has been removed by poster.
Removed by poster. That would mean . . . Phoebe.
My stomach tightens as I grip the phone, opening a browser and searching for my business name. The sinking two-point-five rating has been replaced by a perfect five stars.
I wait for the joy, elation, peace, that I thought would come, but all I feel is hollow. My phone buzzes again, messages and emails coming in, but there’s one that stands out among the rest.
New Message from Planning by Phoebe
My finger hovers over the notification.
What could she possibly have to say to me after all this time?
Will this be a heartfelt apology? A plea for forgiveness? And if so, do I even want to hear it?
I’m still deciding what I want to do when I hear a shrill voice behind me say, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Susan is glaring down at me, making me feel like a student who got caught checking her phone during class. How could Hudson be a product of this uptight, overly judgmental woman?
“Typically, people don’t want photos of them eating,” I explain, putting my phone away.
“And so what? You think you can just take a break? I’m paying you to do a job, I expect you to do it.”
“Mom,” Hudson says, voice stern as he rushes up beside me. There’s fire behind his eyes and I know he’s ready to defend me, but I shake my head, telling him to stand down.
His lips tighten into a scowl.
“Hudson, go stand with your stepfather. I’m going to get my family photos.”
Quickly, I gather my camera, taking a few test shots as Susan places everyone against the far wall, but I can’t focus on placement or lighting choices—all I can think about is Phoebe.
“Are we all here?” I ask, bringing the viewfinder to my face.
“One second.” Susan holds a finger up towards me. “Katherine. Come join us. You’ll be family soon enough if this one knows what’s good for him.”
It’s one thing to hear how much Hudson’s mother adores Katherine, but to see it in person makes me feel inadequate.
She’s effortlessly chic, with a clean girl aesthetic that makes her seem as if she’s stepped off a page of InStyle.
As she slips in beside him, even though Hudson’s hands stay at his side—his body is stiff, a fake smile plastered on his face—I can’t stop wondering what’s going to happen when we start dating for real.
How will he explain our relationship to his family, who are under the impression that he and Katherine are so in love they’re on their way to getting engaged?
Will they think I stole him from her? Will they judge me as harshly as Phoebe’s friends did?
Fear and anxiety prickle my skin, but my body goes on autopilot, snapping photos as Susan reorients the group, removing one person and adding another. Click. Flash. Move. I react accordingly, checking the LCD screen for proper lighting but not really looking at the image.
Without that review standing in my way I can go back to my regular life, I can go back to weddings, to my business, to stability.
Susan directs everyone into groups of two. Meredith and Grant. Click.
Her and George. Click.
Katherine and Hudson. Click.
I do it over and over again until she’s satisfied. And I can’t help but wonder if I actually want this career anymore.