And the worst part? Feeling the longing for him - like a bruise I didn’t remember was there until someone pressed on it.
FOURTEEN
SPENCER
The inn is exactly what I expected.
Stone walkways, manicured hedges, a little too much lavender in the landscaping. The kind of place where money doesn’t shout—it whispers in teak lounge chairs and custom monograms on the cocktail napkins.
Isabell - playing her role as my girlfriend this weekend—slips her arm through mine as we step into the pre-rehearsal happy hour.
“Do we look convincingly smitten?” she murmurs.
“You’re nailing it,” I reply under my breath, as we approach the arched doorway leading into the cocktail hour.
The scent of citrus and champagne greets us first.
Then Carter.
“C. Banks! How the hell are you?” he calls out, arms spread wide.
Isabelle glances at me, confused. “C. Banks?”
“Nickname from college. ‘Cash Banks.’ Carter thought it was hilarious. Mr. Money Bags himself.”
She laughs, then extends a hand to Carter. “Isabelle. It’s a pleasure.”
He takes it. “Likewise. You’re a brave woman, spending the weekend with this guy.”
“I can handle it,” she says, winking at me and squeezing my hand.
“So, are you ready for this?” I ask Carter. “The big leap?”
He shrugs, casually. “I don’t know. It just feels like the next step, you know?”
Isabelle beams. “Well, if Serena looks half as stunning walking down the aisle as she did in that engagement photo, it’s going to be a fairytale.”
“Damnedest part of this whole event?” Carter adds. “No time for a round of golf.”
“Actually,” I say, “I’ve hung up my clubs.”
Carter pauses. “What the hell do you mean?”
“I took a little tumble in a bike race. Nearly two years ago now. Didn’t quite cost me my life—but between the shoulder and the knee, it definitely cost me my swing.”
“Shit,” he says. “If I’d known that, I’d have already cut you out of my address book.”
We laugh, and for a moment, it’s easy. Familiar.
Then Carter glances toward the far end of the room.
“Ah, perfect timing,” he says. “Cash, we’ve paired you with my sister in the wedding party.”
He turns to Isabelle. “Don’t worry—she’s a single mom. Not really Cash’s type, I’m pretty sure.”
Then, raising his hand, he calls out, “Rhea!”
And I freeze.
