Page 24 of Weddings, Revenge & Fake Dating

I turn to Sophia’s voice and do my best to appear cheery.

One last time, I look over my shoulder toward Nathan. I catch his attention before he rounds the corner. He slices a hand across his neck and points to Sophia when she’s not looking. I grin and nod, remembering the plan.

Sink the Sophia ship.

Before I can object, Sophia slips an arm around mine and guides me to a group of women. Their feisty conversations echo through the lobby and grow louder as we approach.

“Ladies! Look who’s joining us,” Sophia announces to the group.

The women scream at the top of their lungs when they see me. I wince, but then can’t help but relax when I recognize a few faces. Some are Roman’s extended family I haven’t seen in eons, while others are friends of Sophia’s I’ve never met.

In total, there are twelve of us: Elsie, Amelia, Brooke, Iris, Lexi, Talia, Ruby, Kayla, June, Mia, Sophia, and me. They drag me into the fold like no time has passed or we’ve known each other for years.

After introductions, Sophia blows a large penis whistle hanging from a chain around her neck. Beside her, Mia dutifully holds a box overflowing with bachelorette party favors.

“Ladies, it’s time to trash up this outing!” Sophia whirls her hand in the air like a cowgirl.

The others clap and whoop.

Mia hands out a myriad of party items that blink or sparkle: sunglasses, necklaces, head boppers, and tiaras. All are embellished with penises. A sparkly hot-pink feather boa wraps my neck. Sophia wears a pink sash across her chest that reads the bride in silver letters. I do my best to ignore my visceral reaction.

“My best friend from college, Natasha, isn’t going to be here. I hope you don’t mind wearing her top.” Sophia holds up a shirt.

“I don’t mind,” I say, though I can’t guarantee I won’t strangle Sophia with it. It was easier to play nice when Nathan was here for support.

Sophia’s face lights up like this is the best news she’s had all day. My phony smile passed the test. Inside, a villainous laugh cackles.

She’s going down.

Everyone slips the oversized tanks over their clothing. Dressed and accessorized, we’re an explosion of pink glitter. We snap several goofy group photos.

Sophia’s voice projects through a mini rhinestone-studded bullhorn. “We’re playing one fun game tonight, a naughty scavenger hunt!”

The group squeals. Their excitement, I admit, is a tad contagious.

“This is how it works,” Sophia says.

Beside her, Lexi spins so we see the back of her tank. In sparkly silver letters, it reads:

I’M THE BRIDESMAID AND I WILL . . .

Lexi bends forward, flattening her back like a tabletop. Sophia leans in to write on the fabric with a black marker. When Lexi stands, we read the added words aloud.

TALK A MAN OUT OF HIS BOXERS

The group hoots. Elsie pumps her arm. Iris catcalls. Someone else hollers, “This night is going to be epic!”

“After Lexi achieves her task, I’ll hand out the next mission. Now, let’s get this party started!” Sophia says, then whoops again.

The group lifts their arms in unison and whoops back. They’ve officially become the annoying girls who whoop and squeal together.

I halfheartedly join in, but I’m nervous about committing to the rest of the evening. When I recall Nathan’s advice, have fun, dance my heart out, and pretend to be Sophia’s best friend, I remind myself of the horrific new beef shop commercial. I decide to leap, even if I’m not sure I can swim. It’s the only chance I have of reaching my goal.

A limo delivers us to an exclusive club in Fort Lauderdale. We bypass the red velvet rope while others wait in line.

The interior is dark with blinking lights and roaming lasers. Our party is VIP, sitting on a sofa bank near a DJ spinning upbeat pop music. A double staircase wraps around his dais, while a dance floor spreads out before him. Skyboxes with onlookers, three stories up, tower above.

Lexi achieves her scavenger-hunt mission quickly. For the price of a kiss, a handsome man shimmies out of his pants. When he hands over the coveted prize, a victorious Lexi stands on a barstool and waves the boxers in the air like she won a game of capture the flag. Cameras flash. The bartender blows an air horn. Everyone at the bar cheers.