I grab the room phone and call the front desk.
“Hi, yes—can you tell me the easiest way to get from room 207 to the room for the wedding rehearsal, without navigating the mob in the lobby?”
There’s a pause. Then: “There’s a staircase at the end of your hallway. It’ll take you down to the west corridor, just outside the ceremony space.”
Perfect.
I’ll take the back way. Avoid anyone who is not in the wedding party. Meet this so-calledCash Banks.Learn how to walk in a straight line without embarrassing Serena, the ice statue. And maybe—if I play my cards right—feign illness to skip the dinner altogether.
I think about calling Laney. I think about asking to speak to Esme, just to hear her voice.
But I don’t, because I’m consumed.
By what? Panic? Fear? Anger?
Yes.
But also something else.
Something that feels suspiciously like heartbreak.
SIXTEEN
SPENCER
I step back into the cocktail room, the hum of laughter and clinking glasses now sounding like static.
Isabelle is waiting just inside the doorway. Her perfectly arched brow lifts when she sees me.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
The look on my face when I saw Rhea must’ve said everything. Isabelle’s seen me play the part at dozens of these events. The charming date. The perfectly polished accessory. The man who never flinches.
But I flinched.
Hard.
“Isabelle,” I say quietly, “I’ve got… I’m…”
“Youknowthat woman,” she says, helping me find the starting line.
“I do. And she… she was…”
“Shemeantsomething to you.”
I nod. “She did. And I had no idea… none at all…”
“That she was Carter’s sister.”
“Exactly. If I’d known—” I stop, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t have…”
“Wouldn’t have come?” she asks. “Or wouldn’t have come withme?”
She winks.
Not upset.
Not even mildly inconvenienced.
