“I picked her up at the airport,actually.”
“She looks like she’s doing well, don’t you think? Such abeautifulgirl.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Beautiful. Dolly, this isAmanda.”
I introduced Amanda around to all the usual suspects, including Dylan’s “date,” Ash, lead singer of the Penny Pushers, one of the bands Dirty often toured with. Dylan and Ash had been besties since they’d met playing a festival about five years back and because he was Dylan’s plus one, Ash was the only Pusher who’d be attending the wedding. That’s how selective the guestlistwas.
I’d told Jesse not to sweat it. If anyone was pissed about not getting invited—and they would be—I’d dealwithit.
The only member of Dirty who wasn’t here yet was Elle, our bass player and Jesse’s ex-girlfriend. She was invited, of course, but wasn’t in the wedding party, so she wasn’t here for the rehearsal. She’d be arriving sometime tomorrow with the other guests. Awkward, sure, but this was Jesse and Katie’s thing and that’s just how it hadtobe.
I’d be checking in with Elle and I knew my partner, Maggie, would too, to make sure she was doing okay. But this was whatitwas.
Jesse was happy as fuck, he was marrying Katie, and Elle just hadtodeal.
As long as it didn’t fuck with the music, we’dbefine.
Maggie had materialized to greet us, looking pretty as usual in a silky gray cocktail dress that matched her striking eyes, her dark hair slicked back in a ponytail. Even in her heels she was petite; I had to lean down to kiss her cheek. Despite the pretty package, Maggie was pure kick-ass. I’d never met anyone who could rally people and bend them to her will the way she could—not even Jude’s security guys, and they oftencarriedguns.
She showed us around the room, essentially a giant yet cozy banquet hall, with a massive fireplace at one end, opposite the towering windows overlooking the cove. She gave us the lowdown on where the ceremony would take place—in front of the windows—and showed us the stage toward the back of the hall where Zane’s side project band, Wet Blanket, would play tomorrow night. The floor in the middle would be used for seating during the ceremony, then dinner, and later cleared for dancing. Right now it had a cluster of eight round tables set for the rehearsal dinner. The tables were lit with dozens of candles, chandeliers glowingabove.
If Maggie ever decided to quit the music business, she could probably make a solid career as a wedding planner. I wasn’t gonna tell her that, though; I needed Maggie taking on more work, not planning her escape. On paper, she was my assistant, which was fucking ridiculous. In reality, she did a lot more for all of us than her fair share. I’d been trying to officially promote her for years, but apparently she didn’t want any more “responsibility.” Which I translated as:I already put up with enough of Zane’s shit, don’t make it any easier for him toabuseme.
Katie’s best friend, Devi, joined us, and the two of them chattered on for a while about wedding stuff. Jesse had given them a blank check to do whatever they wanted—meaning whatever Devi thought Katie would want, and what Katie wanted, evidently, was an intimate yet glamorous wedding in the Canadian wilderness. Glad no one asked me how to pull that off, but somehow, Maggie andDevihad.
The both of them had been obsessed with it over the past five months, calling me ten times a day with inane questions. I gave them the best answers I could, but really, I did not give the last shit about weddings. Weddings, and marriage in general, were, in my limited experience—as the child of not one butthreeugly divorces—pretty much afarce.
I did give a shit about Jesse though, which was why I’d agreed to be one of his groomsmen when he asked. And what Jesse gave a shit about was Katie Bloom, that cute-as-all-hell girl in his arms with the dark hair and blue-green eyes. Apparently, the spoiled fuckwit she’d almost made the mistake of marrying a few years back—or rather, his fuckwit parents—had insisted on a big, grandiose summer wedding, but Katie had always dreamed of a cozy winter wedding. So a cozy winter wedding was what Jesse wasgivingher.
Pretty sure he’d give her any-fucking-thing, if sheasked.
Thing about Katie was, she never asked. Which was one of the many things I liked about her. Refreshing change from the other women Jesse had dated over the years, who were, for the most part—other than Elle—opportunisticairheads.
The man was brilliant on guitar; not so brilliant in his choice ofwomen.
When I saw him with Katie, though, I could say he’d finally gotten itright.
He was smiling ear-to-fucking-ear when they came off the dance floor; he let her go long enough to give me a bear hug, lifting me right off the floor. It struck me, when he smiled, how much he resembled his sister; the both of them kinda dorky as kids, all lanky and over-serious about music, now tall and statuesque, more than their fair share of beautiful, with their flawless, chiseled features, big, dazzling smiles and soulfulbrowneyes.
“Brody. About time you graced us with your presence. Had to stop and get a new tattoo on the way,brother?”
“Just a quick one, of Katie’s name,” Ipokedback.
Where normally he might’ve dropped me on my ass for that, he just laughed. Of course, he had Katie. He had Jessa. The two people he loved most in the world were here, and nothing was gonna piss on hisparade.
Even my general auraoffunk.
I gave Katie a hug and a kiss and told her she looked gorgeous, which she did. I’d been informed that she wasn’t wearing a white dress for the wedding, so the little white cocktail dress she’d chosen for tonight was a nice touch. “Luckiest groom around,” I told her, and she smiled her sweet, disarming smileatme.
Then I introduced Amanda around to Katie’s family; I’d had a chance to meet them at the engagement party back in the fall. Nice people. Solid. Loved Jesse something fierce. And they took to Amanda right away, likeeveryonedid.
Whywouldn’tthey?
Amanda was charming in a genuine way, and easy to talk to. Not to mention easy on the eyes. Definitely deserved better than some distracted asshole who couldn’t even fuckingseeher.
Because the entire time I introduced her around the room, eventually landing at the bar where she got chatting with Katie’s parents, playing on repeat at the back of my mind—actually, at the front of it—was:Where the fuck isJessa?
Where. The Fuck.ISshe.
