Always a Bridesmaid
Jane Pearce survived by a steady diet of color-coded tabs, an extensive planner, and a roll of open-in-case-of-emergency chocolate doughnuts. As a bridesmaid for hire, organization was a necessity. Chocolate was a way of life.
There were three main reasons people hired Jane.
The first one was obvious and sad, they just didn’t have any friends.
The second was more common: their other bridesmaids were drama-causing, unsupportive, hot-messes who needed to be wrangled by a professional.
Most brides were honest with their friends and family about hiring a professional bridesmaid, and Jane attended those events as herself.
But the third, and Jane’s favorite kind of hire, was when someone wanted her identity to remain a secret, and this was where Jane shined.
She’d played the role of a distant cousin, a stepdaughter once removed, and the college roommate.
This meant collecting extensive files on the entire wedding party, a detailed family history, and creating a believable origin story between Jane and the bride-to-be.
The key was knowing her facts and sticking as close to the truth as possible.
Did she dream of walking down the aisle with that veil trailing behind her, a diamond winking off her ring finger, the man of her dreams waiting for her on the other side of the altar? Sure, didn’t most women? But for now, she was happy playing Cupid’s wingwoman.
Juggling multiple weddings per week every year, not including dress fittings, engagement parties, and bridal showers, Jane had mastered the art of blending into the bridal landscape, but her latest gig posed a unique challenge.
She would be portraying an actual person at her first international event for a high-profile client.
Okay, so Sarah wasn’t so much high-profile as was her older brother.
But because of his athletic prowess and international fame, her role-playing had to be on point.
Just to be considered for the job, there was a complete background check conducted on her; her business partner, Roxy; their company; not to mention the NDAs they signed.
None of that would deter Jane. An event of this magnitude, and a payout this huge, was going to take Bridal Buddies from a two-person, besties-boutique firm into a high-profile company that offered top-of-the-line services for brides all around the world.
This would only be possible if they had the money to expand their business and include a diverse range of bridesmaids for hire.
Bridesmaids who would allow Jane to focus on growing and running a seven-figure company, which had been her dream since college.
She’d always been business-minded—that she got to help other women in the process only made her job that much better.
As it stood now, she was the face and the backbone of the company, which was why things were falling through the cracks as of late.
Like forgetting to set her alarm when she took a nap and waking up an hour late for her red-eye flight, which forced her to forgo a shower and head off to Austin-Bergstorm International Airport in black leggings, an oversized sweatshirt with a dark smudge on the sleeve—which she’d put her money on was chocolate—and a ball cap.
The line for the bag check was longer than Space Mountain at Disneyland and she’d been rammed and bammed by so many passengers it was like being trapped in a game of bumper cars without a bumper.
She’d had her toe stepped on, her right boob elbowed, and coffee dripped on her left.
There were only three checkers working, and she was positive that if things didn’t turn around fast, she’d miss her flight—which would mean she’d have less time to settle in and prepare for the biggest job of her career thus far.
“This is why I should’ve just brought a carry-on,” Jane mumbled to herself. “One less line to stand in.”
“Oh, those were the days,” the woman beside her said. The woman looked exhausted. She had an infant strapped to her like she was tandem skydiving, a toddler holding her hand, and enough bags to open a luggage shop. “I’m lucky to get out of the house without needing a bellhop.”
“Though I can’t really stuff a bridesmaid dress into an oversized backpack.” Not to mention the wigs and other necessities one needs when moonlighting as a master of disguise.
Jane wasn’t just a bridesmaid for hire this trip, she was playing the role of an actual person: Elle Vaughn, Manhattan socialite, accomplished equestrian, and the bride-to-be’s childhood best friend, who had recently sold Sarah out by revealing private information to the press about her older brother.
Since the bride had been talking about Elle nonstop to her family and admitting to Elle’s betrayal would mean having to come clean about nearly costing her brother his big racing contract, Sarah couldn’t have a bridesmaid be a no-show. Enter Jane and Bride Buddies.
“A wedding,” the woman said dreamily. “I remember those days. My friends and I are now in the swollen ankles and breast-pumping phase. A night with martinis and menus that aren’t peanut- and gluten-free sounds like a dream.”
“I do love me a good wedding,” Jane had to admit.
The flowers, the glowing bride, the first dance, the romance of it all.
They were like the fairy tales Jane used to weave about her father when her mom’s military career had taken them all around the world and she would rather say her dad was a roadie with whatever her favorite band was at that time than admit that he was dead.
“Where are you headed? Tell me it’s someplace beautiful.” The woman’s eyes were wide and expectant as if hanging on Jane’s every word.
“London actually.”
“Is it a destination wedding?”
“No. It’s for my childhood best friend. She’s from there,” Jane said, pulling up all the details like a spreadsheet in her mind.
Her back straightened, her words became more precise—more Upper East Side Elle and less middle-class Jane.
“We met at equestrian camp when we were just thirteen. Every summer we’d bunk together and throughout the years we’d write to each other.
We had journals we’d pass back and forth, sharing our secrets and dreams. By the time we aged out of camp and pen-pal antics, our friendship was cemented. ”
It took everything Jane had not to gag on that lie.
The truth of it was, just two weeks ago, Sarah had been inches from killing Elle.
As Jane understood it, Sarah trusted Elle with a secret about her brother and Elle went straight to TMZ.
Henry was still in the dark about how his secret meeting with a rival team became public knowledge, and Sarah wanted to keep it that way, at least until after the wedding.
So she’d hired Jane to play the role of Elle.
Armed with tales of s’mores, friendship bracelets, and secret midnight swims—and every detail of Elle’s history that Roxy could scour from online—Jane was determined to make this her best performance yet. She’d been training her entire life for this, after all.
“That is so sweet.”
“I’ve never met her family.” Thank god for that.
It was the only way this particular job was going to work.
“So this should be a fun trip.” Seven days to play the part of a backstabbing socialite?
And help a distressed bride in need? She was up to the challenge.
Jane loved helping other people turn what could have been a traumatic experience into something to be treasured.
She knew trauma, had lived it. So if she could save just one person from that kind of pain, then her hard work was worth it.
“Oh, I think you’re up,” the woman said, looking past her to the travel attendant standing behind the counter.
“That’s me. It was lovely meeting you and I hope you have a safe trip.”
“Have a martini or three for me.”
“I will!”
Jane grabbed the handle of her roller bag and took a step toward her future. Only before she could take another, some jerk took a step of his own—right in front of her, cutting her off and nearly knocking her on her ass.
“Excuse me.” She held her ball cap to her blond hair before it fell off.
“Sorry, love. I didn’t see you there,” a man who sounded exactly like Mr. Darcy said. And Jane loved her some Darcy. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she said, sounding a little breathless.
But if there were ever a man to get breathless over it would be him.
Her Dreamy Darcy was at least six feet, with lean muscles for days, and big masculine hands.
One of which was holding her elbow, strong and secure, steadying her as she gathered her bearings.
Jane wasn’t really looking for a man. In fact, between Bride Buddies and renovating her dilapidated bungalow in downtown Austin, she didn’t have time for a man. But she could appreciate a good one when she quite literally bumped into him.
“Next time try signaling before merging into traffic,” he said all cute-like, but she didn’t find it cute. Was he blaming this on her? What a jerk!
“No harm, no foul. But I’m running late, so if you’ll excuse me.” Jane started for the counter and again he cut her off.
There was that smile again. “Normally, I’d say ladies first.”
“Let me guess? Today isn’t normal.”
“Sorry, love. You aren’t the only one running late.” He went to move to the counter, and she grabbed his arm.
“Hey! There’s a line and it starts back there.”
“I was in line.” The jerk jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the roped-in area that looked like the red carpet at a Hollywood event.
Which was fitting since he was dressed like he was going for a jaunt down Wilshire Boulevard.
He was just in jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket, but they all screamed money.
Then there were the mirrored sunglasses.
Who wore sunglasses inside an airport? “Since I’m in first class, I’m next. ”
“First class checks in there.” Jane pointed to the check-in counter that was occupied. “This is economy.” She held up her boarding pass. “See? Economy.”
“First class checks in at the first available counter,” he informed her. Even with the mirrored glasses and his ball cap shadowing his face she could see the smugness in his eyes.
“Says who?”
“The rules.”
He flashed her a smile that had her heart doing a strange little flip. Blaming it on heartburn, she said, “Yeah, the sexy charm and dimple? That”—she pointed to his face—“doesn’t work on me.”
“You think I’m sexy?”
She rolled her eyes. “More like an asshole. And you’re missing the whole point.”
“Am I?”
“God, it’s like your head is floating in an ego-filled cloud.”
A flash went off and Jane saw spots. When her vision came back to normal Dickhead Darcy looked nervous. He was tugging his hat low on his head and trying to make himself smaller.
“Please, love. May I just check in my bags and be on my way?”
“If you hadn’t told me to use my blinker I might have said yes, but you had to be an ass about it.
” Another camera went off. And another. She looked behind her and people were snapping pictures of Dickhead Darcy.
Not wanting to get her face caught in a single photo, because doing her job meant keeping a sense of anonymity, she turned her back to the crowd.
“Who are you?” she asked him.
“Nobody special.”
“I don’t like liars.”
He laughed and his shoulders relaxed. Her body was as tense as a coil. She didn’t like all the whispers and phone cameras going off—all the attention. But he seemed to expect it.
“Are you always that direct?”
“With liars I am.”
“Well, it looks like today is your day. Now I’m going to be here for a while. Enjoy your flight,” he said and made a grand gesture toward the counter as if he were being the bigger person by letting her go first.
Jane wanted to stay and argue some more but was too afraid of missing her flight, so she checked in her bag and watched with curiosity as Dickhead Darcy was swarmed by other passengers asking for autographs and selfies.