Page 70 of Break Out

“Well, that was interesting,” Aubrey says.

“What happened?” I ask, taking her hand in mine and pulling her closer. She sags against me.

“Mom called Clara while we were on the boat. Left her a voicemail and told her in no uncertain terms that she was getting married tomorrow. Or else,” Brielle says.

“Well, shit.” Devon whistles, shaking his head. “What do you think they’ll do?”

“Or else what?” I ask.

“We don’t know. Clara’s mostly worried it’ll cause a rift in the family. Bri and I told her that we’re on her side. And we’re sure Thad is too, given what he said earlier,” Aubrey answers.

“She said she’s going to stay with her bridesmaid, and Chet’s going to stay with his groomsman tonight like they planned. They agreed to talk in the morning,” Brielle says. “We’re going to head up to the room and relieve the babysitter,” she continues, glancing at her husband. “If she calls you and needs us, call me. I’m going to sleep with my phone on. I’ll let you know if I hear from her.”

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning for, hopefully, a wedding,” Aubrey says, hugging her sister. Brielle and Devon wave and head for the elevators, and we make our way to the elevators on the opposite side of the lobby.

“What do you think will happen?” Aubrey asks.

“I don’t know.” I scrub a hand over my face. “I’m sure it depends on how much Clara wants to keep the peace. They’ll have to talk about it, that’s for sure. Would your mother really do something if they don’t get married tomorrow?”

“Who knows. Maybe Arthur can talk to her. But I don’t really know how much sway he has over her.” Aubrey takes my hand as the elevator comes to a halt on our floor, and we walk down the hallway. As soon as we step into the suite, Aubrey flops down onto the couch.

“I’m exhausted,” she says with a yawn.

“Me too.” I gesture toward the bedroom. “Don’t get comfortable, let’s get ready for bed.”

She climbs to her feet and silently follows me into the bedroom. A few minutes later we crawl into bed and I pull her into my arms.

As crazy as this evening was, any day that ends like this, with Aubrey falling asleep in my arms, is a good day.

Chapter twenty-seven

Aubrey

Voices I can’t distinguish coming from the living room are the first thing I hear when I wake up. Brody’s side of the bed is empty and cold, so he must have gotten up quite a while ago. The clock on the bedside table shows that it’s a little after eight. Guess I might as well get up since I need to meet my sisters and the rest of the bridal party at noon to start getting ready. That is, if this wedding is still on.

Stretching, I climb out of the bed, then head to the bathroom. I quickly use the toilet, brush my teeth, and run a brush through my hair before pulling it into a bun. I put on a bra and swap my tiny sleep shorts for a pair of black leggings because who knows who’s out in the living room. I grab my phone off the nightstand and see I have a text message from Summer.

Summer: Big day today. Have fun. Don’t stress too much, and don’t let your mother piss you off.

I let out a bark of laughter, if only she knew, and text her back.

Me: Big day might not happen. Long story. Tell you later.

Summer: Oh boy. Call me when you can. I’ll have my popcorn ready.

Locking my phone, I take a deep breath and head out to the living room. My steps falter when I see both of my sisters sitting on the couch. My gaze flickers to Brody who is leaning against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee.

“Hi—Morning,” I sputter. Brody meets my gaze before pushing off the wall and walking over to where I’m standing in the bedroom doorway.

“There’s coffee.” He gestures toward the room service cart. Leaning closer, he whispers, “They showed up a few minutes ago. I was about to come to wake you.” He kisses me on the cheek before stepping back.

I remain silent, fix myself a cup of coffee, and take a sip before turning back to my sisters who are watching me from the couch, Bri’s arm wrapped around Clara. I can’t quite figure out what’s going on, but it can’t be great news if they’re here now—we’re supposed to see each other in a few hours.

“What’s going on?” I ask, sitting in the armchair across from the couch.

Clara clears her throat and glances over at Bri who gestures for her to explain. “Chet and I aren’t going to get married the way we were originally going to.”

The air whooshes from my lungs, and I try to digest her news. My face must give me away because Clara gives me a thin smile before continuing. “What you said to me last night about getting married the way we want really sank in. Chet and I ended up talking about it again. Neither of us wants this big of a wedding.” She takes a deep breath before saying, “I called Maggie this morning and asked her if she could throw together a smaller ceremony on Smathers Beach instead. I told her we’d pay whatever the cost is.”