“Did you talk about the festival schedule?” Ivy asked.
“We didn’t get that far,” I admitted.
“We have a meeting with Meg and Hunter on Monday,” Ivy reminded me. “We need to go in with a game plan. There should be a route set and an itinerary. Don’t forget you still have to plan the bachelorette party.”
I flopped onto the couch. “I should have bought another biscuit.”
* * *
We spentthe next several hours planning Meg’s uber-complicated wedding. Elsie finalized details for the food station while Ivy drew up a ceremony schedule, and I arranged the small bachelorette party.
“It sounds like we have a good plan,” Ivy said, starting to pack away the markers and Post-it Notes. “Our next bride should be here. In fact, her meeting started fifteen minutes ago. Not sure where she is.”
The elevator dinged, and Tatiana and her entourage swept out.
“Wine and cheese?” Elsie offered as Tatiana stormed over to the table.
“No!” the bride barked.
I guessed it was not going to be a good meeting.
“Mother, don’t eat that cheese,” Tatiana warned Mrs. Petrov as she cut off a thick piece of the baked brie Elsie had made. “You just ate lunch.”
“It was her graduation lunch,” her sister said snidely. “With her embarrassingly old fiancé.”
“Shut up!” Tatiana screamed at her sister. “You just want him for yourself.”
“Even if I did, which I don’t, it sounds like Kelsey is going to take him first,” her sister said.
“She’s not,” Tatiana huffed.
“She all but gave him a hand job under the table!”
The two sisters squared off as the elevator dinged again.
“You’re late!” Tatiana screamed as a familiar young woman walked off the elevator. She had a great blowout, was wearing a skimpy mini dress, and was carrying a designer purse that resembled a dead possum.
What the freaking hell?My heart started beating faster.
“Honestly,” Tatiana’s sister said, unaware of the crisis stirring in me, “you should just go ahead and cancel the wedding.”
“I won’t!” Tatiana insisted, stamping her foot.
“Hi!” The possum-purse woman said to all of us. “I’m the maid of honor.” She peered at me. “Hey, I know you. You tried to make me eat that nasty onion bread.”
“Everyone loves the caramelized onion bread,” I said automatically.
Inside I was screaming,What the fuck! What the fuck!
“I can’t believe you wanted to hook up with your stepson,” the maid of honor said, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Trust me, Tatiana, Sebastian is not that great. Sure, he’s rich, but even though he wears nice suits, he’s still a small-town hick.”
“Oh fuck,” I whimpered.
It was Sebastian from whom Tatiana was trying to win custody of the kid. She was going to take Alfie from Sebastian, and I had helped her by writing that character-witness statement.
Fuck, Amy, this is literally the worst decision you have ever made in the entire history of your existence.
We don’t know for sure that it’s Alfie,my mind chattered in a panic.
