Chapter One
Lucy
My sister, Katherine, looks exactly how a fiancée should look. Deliriously happy, hopelessly in love, and perfect in all other ways. Perfection is nothing new for Katherine, but now she’s engaged—to the perfect man, obviously.
“I can’t believe you haven’t met Ed’s best man until now,” Katherine says, pushing her mascara wand back into the tube. “You’re going to love Hunter.”
No doubt Hunter will be perfect. Just like Ed, my soon-to-be brother-in-law. Ed is from a good Boston family that can be traced back at least fifteen generations. He’s “in finance”—whatever that means—just like his father. He and Katherine enjoy wearing coordinating Ralph Lauren, and of course, they never argue. Their future will be full of perfect children who make perfect grades, and they’re all going to live the perfect lives my mother foresaw when Katherine was born. According to Mom, Katherine’s first word was “please.” She never complains, gets angry or irritated. The story goes that Katherine came out of the womb serene and peaceful, like she already possessed enough wisdom to know crying wouldn’t get her anywhere with our mother.
In contrast, my mother likes to tell people I could be heard crying in her womb before I was extracted via C-section—far from a perfectstart. I’ve always been the Pig-Pen to Katherine’s Snoopy. The Beast to Katherine’s Beauty. The Elizabeth Bennet to Katherine’s Jane Bennet.
“Lucy,” Mom calls from the bottom of the stairs. “It’s time you two came down. I don’t want you making your sister late.”
“Mrs. Jones!” my father bellows. “Where’s my tie?”
My mother insists on being called Mrs. Jones by anyone she hasn’t known a couple of decades, and Dad likes to tease her about it. At least, I think he’s teasing. Obsessed with Jane Austen, Mom thinks she’s living in a Regency drama. I wouldn’t be surprised if she and Dad have a few costumes hidden at the back of the closet that they sport in private when Katherine and I aren’t around. Pass the mind bleach. Our mother watched the adaptation ofPride and Prejudice—the one starring Colin Firth—on a loop while pregnant with Katherine. According to my father, that’s when the obsession with Jane Austen in general, andPride and Prejudicein particular, really took hold. At least we weren’t named Lizzy and Jane. Katherine is far too beautiful to be named Jane.
I scoop up her hand from where she’s fussing with the perfect bow in her hair, and we head downstairs. “You look beautiful.” She’s wearing a sugar-pink grosgrain dress with matching Ferragamo pumps. She looks like a doll.
“You too.” Katherine grins, squeezing my hand. “I don’t know if he’s here yet, but I told Ed to make sure you’re introduced to Hunter right away. After all, you have to get to know each other to organize the joint bachelor/bachelorette party.”
I hide my sinking dread behind a polite smile. As maid of honor, I’m in charge of all the arrangements. The problem is, I want the party—or more accurately, the weekend-long prewedding event—to be as perfect as Katherine herself. I’m not sure that can happen with me in charge. I’m concerned I’ll forget something fundamental, like restaurant reservations or a bride-to-be sash, or cause some kind of chaos. That’s what everyone will expect me to do. I have to remind myself I’m no longer the rumpled little kid stumbling after my lithe, elegant sister in the school corridors anymore. I grew up. I moved to New York andupgraded my wardrobe, along with my organizational skills. It’s just that whenever I go back to Massachusetts to visit my family, I seem to regress. I become the girl I used to be rather than the woman I am.
As we get to the bottom of the stairs, Ed appears with a guy I don’t recognize. Ed’s eyes sparkle as his gaze fixes on my beautiful sister.
“Katherine, you look gorgeous,” he says.
“Absolutely stunning,” the stranger says.
“You too, Lucy,” Ed says, and I smile at his forced compliment.
I glance at the stranger, expecting to field another canned compliment, but he’s looking over his shoulder at what’s happening in the garden rather than back at me. Oh well, at least he’s not faking it.
“This is Hunter,” Katherine says.
He’s slightly taller than Ed and has inky-black hair, which is swept back like he’s just pushed his fingers through it. Despite his very broad shoulders, his blue suit fits him like a glove, and the white shirt makes his face look like he’s just flown in from a two-week vacation in Aruba. He’s handsome—there’s no doubt about that—but I’m determined to put his looks to the very back of my brain. I just need his help and cooperation for this party. So long as I get that, I don’t care what he looks like.
“We were just talking about how you and Lucy are going to be arranging our bachelor/bachelorette party.” Katherine greets Ed at the bottom of the stairs with a kiss on the cheek, and Hunter gives Katherine a reserved hug. “Maybe the two of you can get together after the party or even back in the city. Hunter lives in New York, just like you, Lucy.”
I narrow my eyes, suddenly suspicious. Why is Katherine so invested in getting the two of us to meet up? Doesn’t she trust me to put together a great bachelorette party? Katherine has always been the one in my corner, sticking up for me. Telling Mom not to be so hard on me, telling me I’m just as pretty as she is. But maybe she never really believed it. Maybe she thinks I’m not capable of doing this for her.
Well, she’ll find out soon enough that she’s mistaken. Just like everyone else who ever knew me growing up and still doubts me to this day. I’m going to prove everyone wrong.
Katherine and Ed head into the garden, leaving Hunter and me alone. I stick out my hand to shake his. “I’m Katherine’s sister, Lucy.” I give him my best Massachusetts grin. It’s full of clapboard houses, ocean breezes, and a sprinkling of Kennedy confidence.
But my smile isn’t returned. Hunter’s mother clearly wasn’t an Austen fanatic when she was pregnant. She probably saw the glint in her son’s eyes when he was born and decided on his name. He’s looking at me like he wants to kill me.
“Lucy,” he says, scowling and shaking my hand.
“Have you got any ideas about the joint party?” I ask as we follow Katherine and Ed out into the garden. The light is dazzling, and I pull my sunglasses from my pocket. “We have to make it absolutely incredible. They’re such a great couple, aren’t they?”
“What?” Hunter snaps. His tone sends a jolt of shame through me. Did I say something wrong?
“The party,” I say, a little more tentatively. “I wondered if you had any ideas. I think Katherine and Ed want it to be in Massachusetts, on the beach, but other than that, we have free rein.”
He groans in response but doesn’t say anything else.
I turn to see if he’s heard me, but it’s like I’m not even there. Like I’m invisible.
