“I never get shitfaced. And I don’t need a bonus from you, but thank you.”
“Hey, there’s a first time for everything.”
“I make no promises.”
“Get three sheets to the wind for me,” Josh says. “Please?”
“I’ll getonesheet to the wind,” I say.
“Make it two, as a wedding gift to me.”
“Fine. Two it is. But you know I hardly ever drink.”
“That’s why I want you to do it for me. Kick off the week with a bang.”
“Yes, sir. So is that it? I’m ordered to stop working and get drunk as soon as everyone has arrived at the resort?”
Josh looks at Kat. “Is that it, Almost-Mrs.-Faraday?”
Kat smiles. “That’s it, Almost-Husband. Thank you again, T-Rod. You’ve been a lifesaver and a great friend throughout this whole process. Now I see why Josh adores you so much.”
My cheeks flush. “It’s been my pleasure. I couldn’t be happier for you two.”
It’s the truth.
Of course, I would have preferred to hate Kat’s guts the same way I’ve hated the ones who’ve come before her, especially his horrific ex-girlfriend, but, dammit, Kat’s so damned Charlotte-like in every way, it’s been impossible for me not to feel anything but fierce, undying love for her. (Bitch.)
“Well, should we head down to the lobby to Meet the Morgans?” Josh asks.
I look down at my watch. “Absolutely. In fact, we’d better bust a move, y’all.”
Kat squeals and leaps up from the couch, her adorable baby bump leading the way. “Let Josh and Kat’s Weeklong Wedding Shindig begin!”
21
Ryan
“He offered a prayer so deeply devout that he seemed kneeling and praying at the bottom of the sea.”
Amoment ago, the entire Morgan group including me stepped off the chartered bus that collected us from Kahului Airport, and now we’re walking behind a beautiful woman in a Hawaiian-print dress, headed toward the grand entrance of the sprawling beachside resort that’s about to become our home away from home for the coming week.
About twenty yards from the threshold of the lobby, my phone pings with an incoming text from Henn that stops me dead in my tracks: “Charlotte McDougal,” the text reads, followed by a phone number and the following note: “Please name your firstborn Hennessy, rather than Peter. Thanks.”
I stop walking and let the herd stream past me on both sides, my heart exploding in my chest.
“Everything okay, honey?” my mother asks, coming to a stop next to me.
“Yeah, I just need to make a quick call.” Without waiting for my mom’s reply, I sprint away, shouting over my shoulder. “Will you get my room key for me, Mom? Thanks! That’s why I love you the most, woman!”
I find a little bench next to a koi pond about fifty yards away from the hotel entrance and sit down, my chest heaving, and then, with shaking fingers, dial the number supplied by Henn.
“Hello?” a female voice says.
My heart stops. “Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
“Charlotte the flight attendant with red hair?”
