Klein’s arms wrap around my waist and he exerts a tiny amount of pressure, just enough to let me know he’s here. He supports me.
“Yes, I’m serious. No, I don’t want to step in for you and walk down the aisle and stand in front of my ex. Why would you ask that of me? There are three other womenstanding beside you.” I motion to Farhana, Wren, and Maren. All three have mouths agape. “Ask one of them.”
Sienna spends a full five seconds staring at me, stunned, before she turns around slowly and says something to the group. They fall in line, all walking around the set up of chairs and gathering near the back. It’s quiet, awkward, and they shoot me glances I don’t care about enough to decipher.
I press my hands on Klein’s shoulders and push to stand.
“Proud of you,” he murmurs. “That’s my girl.”
His praise causes a flush to spread across my cheeks.His girl. Is that what I am? Klein’s girl?
I wink at him, then join the bridal party. Maren is playing the role of the bride. Raelynn lines us up. I’m second to last, as I should be. She tells us when to go, and I walk with Tag, the best man, down the aisle. Shane catches my eye, so on purpose it’s embarrassing, but his expression startles me. Where I thought I’d find irritation, there is only wonderment.
The rehearsal trips on. Despite the death rays shooting from my sister’s eyes, I’m enormously pleased to not be her stand-in.
The rehearsal dinneris held in the private dining room at The Beach Club. Despite having been placed with the other ladies in the bridal party, I’ve made a space for myself next to Klein. Sienna shoots me a dirty look whenshe spots me spooning leek and potato soup into my mouth from my place beside Klein. I ignore her.
She’s not happy with me? Well, guess what? I’m not happy with her either at the moment.
Dessert is served, a white and dark chocolate mousse, and coffee for those who’ve requested it. A tray of espresso martinis is delivered to those who forget, or don’t care, that tomorrow is a big day.
Sienna sits, foot propped on Shane’s lap. She’s been icing twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. This is her off time.
Tag looks down the table at me, martini glass raised as if to toast. “Paisley, do you have your maid of honor speech prepared? I’ve got to warn you, mine is spectacular. I plan to show you up.”
Oh. Shit.
The speech.
The speech!
Did it slip my mind, or did my subconscious bury it on purpose? Either way, I don’t have a speech. I don’t even have the beginning of a speech. For that matter, I don’t know that I have a single nice thing to say about the couple.
Klein closes the inches separating us, his lips brushing my ear. “Your face is giving away everything you’re thinking right now.”
I force the panic from my eyes. The irritation from my taut cheekbones.
Lifting my coffee cup in the air, I say with false bravado, “I see your spectacular, and I raise you an outstanding.”
“Good recovery,” Klein murmurs.
Tag winks. “We’ll just have to find out who wins tomorrow, won’t we?” He drinks. I sip my coffee.
Conversation moves on. But Sienna? Her gaze turns shrewd. She knows I’m bullshitting.
Klein dropsSienna and I at the house, sending us a wave on his way out of the driveway. He’s returning to Nautilus to collect the trio of rowdy, drunken groomsmen. And, drunkest of all, the groom.
The hour is late, nearing midnight. The air, thick with the sounds of chatty bugs, takes on an awkwardness now that it’s only the two of us.
“So,” I start, stepping down on the first stair. I have nothing else though. Nothing to say that can have any meaningful impact on the shit show that was this evening. “I’m glad your ankle is better. Do you think you’ll still wear your heels tomorrow? Maybe we could find some fancy flats or sandals if you need?—”
Sienna, one step higher than me and gripping the wooden railing, turns to face me. The light of the moon reflects off her blonde tresses, giving her an ethereal quality. Despite appearing to be at least partially healed, she favors her left foot. “Paisley, we need to talk.”
I nod. “Yes,” I agree. There’s so much I have to say, so much I want to get off my chest. Maybe once that happens, we can work on our relationship. We can improve it, and grow stronger.
“I don’t think you should be a part of the ceremony tomorrow.”
Her statement hangs, suspended in the humid air.
