by Fields, MJ
“El, we’ve both had a lot to drink,” I explained, trying not to wince as the words left my mouth. It was true, but I had a feeling I would’ve wanted to feel her lips on mine with or without the aid of alcohol.
She nodded, slipping on a mask of indifference. “You’re right. Uh, I’m sorry, that was…I don’t really know what that was,” she babbled with an awkward laugh while she fumbled to unlock the front door.
“It’s not that—”
“Bryce, it’s fine. Really,” she said with the kind of fake smile worn by the runner-up in a Miss USA contest. She dropped her voice and turned after walking into the house. “I should get to bed before Nana and Pops hear us. I meant what I said though; not many people can live their dreams, Bryce. This is your chance.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave her a smile. “Do me a favor? Call me to let me know what happens with Helen.”
She hesitated, dropping her eyes from mine. “Okay. And, hey, let me know what you decide about staying.” She looked up, a smile pulling one side of her mouth up. “Let’s suck less at keeping in touch this time around.”
“Deal.”
I wish I’d known that we were both lying that night—to each other, to ourselves.
Two
Elliot
NOW
Bryce - 27, Elliot - 24
“Someone want to tell me why I smell like I took a vodka and champagne shower?” I asked, sitting up slowly and trying not to gag at the pungent stench of alcohol. I blinked my friends into focus and brought my left hand up to rake through my day-old curls.
Neither Milo nor Carleigh made an attempt to answer right away. Instead, they stood at the foot of my bed, trading looks of uncertainty.
Their hesitation gave me a second to take in my surroundings. A black and white polka dotted quilt draped over me. A poster of Yellowstone National Park on the wall to my right. A photo on the dresser across from the bed of Nana, Pops, Sophia, and me smiling.
My childhood bedroom.
Okay, so I obviously slept here last night after the party.
“Guys. What happened? And for the love of God, why did y’all apparently let me drink enough to lose chunks of my memory? I remember sending Pops and Nana off in the limo, then getting Sophia to do shots with us after everyone else left. Things get a little fuzzy after that.”
Last night was my grandparents’ ‘do-over’ wedding in honor of their fiftieth anniversary.
I had poured my heart into planning it, and up until my memory went blank, everything had gone off perfectly. They adorably pledged to spend another fifty years together (I’d be dubious about them living to see the age of 119, but my grandparents were the type who never aged, so I wasn’t taking that bet), everyone danced and partied at the elaborate backyard reception, and they’d given me crushing hugs of appreciation before jetting off for their mystery honeymoon destination.
Milo plopped down on the bed next to me. “First things first,” he said, handing me two ibuprofen tablets with one hand and a glass of water with the other.
I swallowed the tablets and turned my full attention to my best friend, knowing he’d give it to me straight. Milo, Sophia, and I had lived together for a couple of years now, so he was no stranger to our sisterly spats.
“We were hoping you could tell us. After you finally got Soph to do a tequila shot you decided we should play stack cup. You also said we should ‘make things interesting’ by making the last cup a cocktail of vodka, tequila, rum, and a healthy dose of mimosa. One guess how that ended for you.”
Well that explains a lot. Sort of. “Did I drink it or bathe in it?”
Carleigh cleared her throat. “Uh, well, after stack cup, Sophia pulled you aside. We didn’t think anything of it, but then you both started shouting. She stormed back over, grabbed her phone, and walked into the house without looking back. You tried to go after her, but you tripped and dumped your whole drink all over yourself.”
As kids, my sister and I had our fair share of sibling brawls, but these days we were mostly civil and rarely argued about anything other than things like why she raided my closet without permission, why there were fifteen episodes of Millionaire Matchmaker filling up the DVR, whose turn it was to do the dishes—superficial, everyday things of little consequence, for the most part. The only time things got remotely heated between us had occurred almost a decade ago—the last time we tried to have a conversation about our mother. Helen had always been the biggest point of contention between us.
Even now, thinking about her summoned a ball of dread deep in my stomach.
I frowned and pushed the quilt off, suddenly feeling hot. “And y’all have no clue what I said? I didn’t mention anything after Sophia left?”
Milo shook his head, sending his shaggy brown locks cascading across his forehead. “Nope. One minute y’all were shouting and slinging insults in that delightful sisterly way y’all do, the next she was running off. All you would say is that you were just looking out for her, and she didn’t need to take things so personally.”
“Great. Why didn’t one of you interfere?” I groaned.
Milo shrugged. “Because that would’ve been like trying to stop a train from derailing after it’s already veering off the tracks.”
“Fair enough. Is she…still here?”
“No, she went back to the apartment, and I’m pretty sure she’s not coming back to help clean.”
I sighed and slung my legs over the side of the bed.
Carleigh watched my sluggish movements and eyed me skeptically. “Are you going to be able to make it to the open house this afternoon? I could cancel my plans and go for you.”
Carleigh and I had lost touch after she moved when we were in middle school, but reconnected via Facebook when she moved back to Austin last year. The timing couldn’t have been better. We were catching up at happy hour when I realized she’d be the perfect one to take over my assistant position at Forget Me Knot Weddings. When Jade and Jasmine agreed and offered her the job, she accepted on the spot.
“No, don’t do that. I’ll be fine. Just need a shower and some food.”
Truthfully, going to an open house for a new wedding venue sounded like torture. But a hangover wasn’t going to prevent me from doing my job. I’d spent the last year working my butt off to prove to Jade and Jasmine they’d done the right thing by promoting me from being their assistant to handling my own weddings. Letting them down wasn’t an option.
* * *
The Rose House, an old Victorian mansion in downtown Austin, was hosting an exclusive open house for event coordinators to showcase its recent renovations. One of the oldest homes in the city, its location in the heart of downtown and historic charm made it a perfect venue for weddings. Until recently, The Rose House had been a private residence and wasn’t available to the public. Which made it all the more puzzling that, as I stood on the curb waiting for Jade, I was positive I’d been here before.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and used the front camera to quickly scan my face. Satisfied my makeup semi-cloaked my exhaustion, I flipped the camera and focused on the house in front of me. After snapping a couple of pictures, I caught sight of Jade speed-walking toward me from across the street.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I completely lost track of time at the office.”
“Don’t worry about it, Jade. I only just got here a couple minutes ago. Hey,” I said, turning toward her. “Why were you at the office? I thought you only had the Capps wedding on Friday, then you and Emmett were going to have some time off together.”
“We were, but there was some kind of work emergency that he had to deal with. He spent the night at the office last night, and I got restless at home without him, so I figured work would be a good distraction.”
I came to an abrupt stop on the path leading to the steps of the entrance. “Jade…”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. I swear. I mean, it sucks that Emmett and I have basically been ships passing in the
night lately, but I knew he was a workaholic when I married him. And, really, I’m being dramatic. We’re together all the time, usually, and he’s been good about keeping his work hours under control. We’ve both just been stressed out, I guess.”
She didn’t have to elaborate. They’d been trying to get pregnant for a while now. The fact that it hadn’t happened was slowly driving her crazy.
I gave her hand a squeeze and offered a sympathetic smile. “Isn’t your anniversary coming up? Maybe you could plan a surprise mini-vacation. Get out of town for a few days.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about planning something. Surprising Emmett is impossible, though. The man knows exactly how to get me to sing like a canary. It’s incredibly frustrating,” she huffed.
Her words said one thing, but the smile on her lips said another.
“Oh, sure. Must be so frustrating to have such a loving, devoted husband who bends over backward for you.”
She laughed and started up the steps leading to the porch, pausing to take a brochure from a table by the door. “Whatever. You know what I mean. Enough about me. How was yesterday? The pictures looked incredible.”
“Fantastic. The garden was the perfect setting for the ceremony, and the reception went off without a hitch. Nana was so beautiful, and seeing Pops brought to tears by watching his bride walk down the aisle was the sweetest thing ever. I’m so happy they finally got their fairytale wedding.”
Jade smiled. “After fifty years of marriage, they certainly deserve it.”
I mumbled an agreement, but my attention quickly shifted to the ‘before’ photos in the brochure I was holding. That déjà vu feeling was back and impossible to ignore. I peeled my eyes from the photos to look up and take in our surroundings as we crossed the threshold into the house.
The front door led straight into an open living area with a view all the way to the French doors leading to the back yard on the opposite side of the room. There was a narrow hallway to the right with three doors off of it, spaced about eight feet apart. A staircase to the left of the hall had a sign on the wall next to it listing the upstairs features—a bridal suite dressing room, bathroom, and access to a balcony overlooking the back yard.
We wandered deeper into the living area, taking in the details and features of the space. Although not an expert on design or architecture, even I could appreciate the time and dedication someone had put in to the place. A wall had been removed to open up the downstairs area, while maintaining the twentieth-century charm that made the house special. The hardwood floors looked original, like they’d been sitting underneath a layer of carpet all along. Crown molding had been added, its dark shade almost matching that of the hardwood, providing a striking contrast against the white walls and highlighting the high, coffered ceiling.
Jade and I both ambled through the house separately and met back up in the veranda off the living room.
“Wow,” she mumbled. “This place is gorgeous. They’ll be completely booked for next year in no time. C’mon, let’s go check out the back yard.”
Even the outdoor space had been given a facelift. Large pavers covered the ground beneath a dozen tables set up in a manner perfect for a wedding reception. Although the lots in this part of Austin tended to be small, the space available was used to its best effect by added shrubs and vines along the back fence, making the area feel cozy instead of cramped.
“I’m going to get a drink. Want one?” Jade asked.
Visions of Millie-mosas sprang to mind, and I silently swore off of ever drinking orange juice again.
“Not even a little. I, uh, got a little carried away last night. Alcohol and I aren’t on good terms right now.”
“Ah, gotcha. Okay, I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll grab a table.”
I settled into a chair and began scrolling through the photos I’d taken inside. Within seconds, a familiar figure dropped into a chair across the table from me.
“Damn. Why do you look like the one of us who was up till dawn?” Jasmine asked, tilting her aviator sunglasses down to scan my face. “You look like hell, but I love your top.”
I was convinced Jas had never in her life even attempted to develop a filter when it came to being blunt.
“Is that why you’re late? Why were you up all night?” I deflected.
A brow lifted as her lips curled into a sly grin. “Why do you think?”
“You were binge watching Parks and Rec again?”
“Jesus, El. You really need to get out more. Celibacy is turning your brain innocent. I don’t even want to know how long it’s been since you got laid.”
I rolled my eyes in lieu of an answer.
“And yes, that’s why I’m late. Dean’s flight didn’t get in until almost midnight, and we had a lot of catching up to do. And by catching up, I mean the sweaty, naked kind that involves—”
“Ew. Ew. Ew,” Jade groaned as she sat down and realized what kind of conversation she’d walked into. “Do not finish that sentence. This is crossing a line I do not ever need to cross when it comes to my brother. You know the rules about bringing up the details of your sex life around me.”
Jas huffed out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. You want a clear warning and copious amounts of alcohol in your system.”
“Seeing as how I’m not at all intoxicated and this is technically a work function, maybe we just try to keep it professional for once?” Jade asked, lifting a brow and moving her gaze from Jas to me.
My hands shot up. “Hey, don’t look at me. According to Jas, my brain is innocent now anyway. I’m totally fine with redirecting this into a work conversation.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re still deflecting, El,” Jas insisted. “Answer the question, then we can switch to work mode. What happened last night—or should I say, who happened last night?”
I sighed and resigned myself to spilling the beans. Jasmine was annoyingly persistent, and I knew she’d get me to fess up eventually.
“Sophia and I got into a big argument last night after Nana and Pops left.” I hesitated and darted my eyes across the yard to the food truck parked in the corner serving Korean barbecue appetizers before redirecting my attention back to Jade and Jasmine. “I'm a little fuzzy on the details because I lost a game of stack cup and had to drink my own idiotic concoction of vodka, rum, and tequila mixed with a mimosa. In addition to the tequila shots we did before the game.”
Both of their faces twisted in disgust.
“Damn, no wonder you’re looking a little rough today,” Jas exclaimed.
“Gee, thanks. Okay, now that y’all are up to speed on the disastrous turn my night took, can we switch into work mode? Wasn’t that the deal for answering Jasmine’s question?”
Jas shrugged. “Fair enough. I was thinking we should compile a list of all clients whose tentative dates align with The Rose House’s first few months of availability, and get them out here ASAP because this place will pique more interest than Milo’s head shots on Tinder.”
She shot me a wink and pulled out her phone, already looking at her calendar.
We spent the next twenty minutes comparing calendars and schedules and making a list of clients to bring here for a tour.
“So,” Jas said eventually. “I overheard some ladies talking about the architect who did the renovations. Judging by the way they were talking, he’s hot and he’s single.”
I offered a hum and kept my eyes on my phone, ignoring the implication in her tone.
“Oh, come on, El. Aren’t you a little curious?”
“No. Is it so hard for you to believe, for the first time in a long time, I’m happy being single? I swear, marriage has turned you into a hopeless romantic, Jas.”
She balked. “Jesus, relax. Never. I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. Anyway, apparently he’s some young hotshot from Seattle. He’s Rose’s nephew—as in the Rose who owns this place.”
My head snapped up.
Young hotshot architect
.
From Seattle.
Whose aunt was named Rose.
No way.
I would’ve heard if he had moved back. Nana and Pops would’ve mentioned it. Wouldn’t they?
“Did they say what his name is?” I asked casually.
“Brian? Brad? No, not Brad. Some hot guy name that starts with a B, though. Why? Thought you weren’t interested?”
I was too busy scanning the area to answer her question. Too busy searching for a face I hadn’t seen in over five years.
“I, uh, I’ll be right back,” I said, pushing up from my chair and ignoring Jade’s questions about my sudden urgency and weirdness.
My eyes swept across the back yard, seeking the mop of dirty blonde hair he’d always had as a kid. Of course, five years ago it was cut short and stripped him of that boyish charm I’d taken for granted when we were growing up.
Maybe he’s not here.
Maybe Jas misheard.
Maybe it’s not him.
Bryce McKnight had been an integral part of my childhood. My earliest memories of the summer I came to live with Nana and Pops all included Bryce. He was the first person I spoke more than a few words to after my mother dumped me with grandparents I’d never met. He brought me out of my shell and showed me how to be a regular kid.
Bryce was my first friend. My lifeline.
But those days were long gone.
He was a stranger now.
At the exact moment I decided to give up my search and go back to the table, I turned and ran right into a waiter carrying a tray full of food. Honey-glazed chicken and fries smothered in caramelized kimchi rained down on me and stuck to my hair and my shirt as the tray clattered to the ground, garnering the attention of everyone around us.
“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry, miss,” the waiter stammered, instantly helping me back to my feet and pulling a chunk of chicken out of my hair.
