“Fine. Why?” My voice is pitchy, and I spit the words out too quickly. I can also feel my face heating up.
Harley chuckles knowingly. “Your poker face needs a lot of work.”
Now that the orgasm is over, and I’m no longer riding the high, I can see how this could be a new level of complication for Declan and me to deal with, particularly since he’s currently my primary caregiver. But I’m starting to get my mobility back, little by little, so I won’t need to rely on him quite as much.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means your face is all red, and you look like the cat who ate the canary.”
I debate whether I want to say anything to Harley about what happened this morning. The three of us don’t generally keep secrets from one another, and I’m not entirely sure I’ll be able to keep it from either of my sisters, even if I wanted to.
“Maybe it should wait until we get to Spark House. What kind of mood is London in this morning?”
“Oh my God! Does this mean you two hooked up?” Harley’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas baking day—which incidentally is her favorite time of year. Any time she can make cookies and tarts, she’s a happy camper.
“Do I look like I’m in any kind of condition to entertain a hookup?” I motion to my half-casted form.
“Something happened though, right? Like something had to have happened. Did you make out? Did he kiss you? Was there groping?”
“I’m answering none of these questions right now.”
She hits the brakes a little harder than necessary when a light changes yellow—she’s been driving extra cautiously on my behalf, aware I’m still nervous. She glances in the rearview mirror and claps excitedly. “Something totally went down! Your face is so red right now. This is so exciting!”
“You sound like you’ve been waiting for this to happen,” I mutter.
She gives me an incredulous look. “Seriously, Ave?”
“Seriously what?”
“Oh come on, you two have been friends for years and you freaking live together. I sort of expected something to happen a lot sooner, but times of crisis have a way of either pulling people apart or bringing them closer together.” Her expression turns wistful for a moment.
“I don’t think London is going to be nearly as excited about this as you are. And you never answered my question about what kind of mood she’s in.”
Harley glances at me briefly before she focuses on the road again. “She’s a little stressed out.”
“Is that why it’s just you picking me up, or is there more to it?” I press. “Did something happen with that photographer guy she’s been seeing?”
“It’s not about Daniel. They’re still seeing each other.” Harley taps the wheel with a sigh. “I need to tell you something.”
“This doesn’t sound good.” Anxiety makes my throat tight. “Did something happen?”
“It’s more like something didn’t happen.” She makes a face. “We didn’t get the alumni account for your university.”
“What? Why not? It was practically in the bag; my meeting was supposed to be a formality.”
“Yeah, I know. But it was a formality when you were involved. We pitched your ideas, but without your knowledge to back it all up, and with the uncertainty of when you’d be able to work on the project, they didn’t feel good about making the commitment. London was crushed, and she’s been afraid to tell you because she doesn’t want you to be upset with her.”
“Why would I be upset with her?” Am I disappointed? Sure. But it’s not her fault it didn’t work out.
“Because her pitch flopped. She’s really struggling, Ave. And I don’t want to put this on you because you have enough to deal with, but I don’t think either of us realized exactly how much weight you pull at Spark House until you weren’t there to pull it. This is your passion and it always has been. You live and breathe Spark House. You make everything look so easy and effortless, when really it’s not.”
She’s not wrong. Until this accident, the only thing I did other than work was hang out with Declan and the guys and play rec soccer. Even now, with my being stuck at home, I’m still trying to get stuff done, although it’s not as easy doing it remotely. Still, I don’t want my sisters to feel like losing the alumni account means they’ve somehow failed. “I just talk a good game.”
“Uh, that’s absolutely not true. You have an incredible presence and people are drawn to you. That’s a fact.” She blows out a breath. “So yeah, that’s where London’s at this morning.”
“So maybe I should keep my mouth shut about Declan, then.”
“You can try, but I doubt you’ll be successful. London will pick up on something, and if you keep it from her, it’ll hurt her feelings. You and I both know how sensitive she is.”
Harley’s not wrong. London is incredibly sensitive. She just hides it well.
Harley makes a right onto the long, winding driveway leading to Spark House, the massive mansion-style hotel we’ve turned into a unique event space. Pink ribbons adorn the lampposts and huge, tacky metallic pink unicorns are interspersed between them.
“It looks like we’re prepping for a six-year-old’s birthday party, not a bachelorette,” I remark.
“Just you wait until you see the food and cake designs. I have never met an adult woman so in love with pink and unicorns, makes me wonder if she was either deprived as a kid or totally overindulged.”
“Maybe both?”
“Probably. In the past few days we’ve learned that she’s a bit of a hypochondriac, and her love of sports was an exaggeration. Apparently, she and her sister don’t always see eye to eye on things.”
“Oh man, this sounds like it’s going to be messy.”
“It’s possible. According to the maid of honor, our lovely bride threw her sister’s bachelorette party. She invited a hundred people, most of them her friends, not her sister’s, and took her to a dance club and got her super shit-faced.”
“Oh no.”
“It gets better.”
“Do you mean worse?”
“Absolutely. So when the bride-to-be’s sister was getting married, she had asked for a weekend getaway with her closest friends because she hates bars. And her sister, the current bride, didn’t bother to invite any of them.”
“Which makes this a revenge bachelorette party?” This could be a complete nightmare. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything to me about this until now. No wonder London is so stressed.”
“Well, we just found out about the previous bachelorette party over the weekend. Apparently, the sister has been keeping the maid of honor from saying anything because she’s got some dirt on her. Anyway, it’s a total soap opera, but I think we’ve got it mostly under control.”
“Is all the pink part of the revenge or what?”
“Oh no, that’s legitimately what the bride wants. She actually asked if we could dye a white horse pink and put a horn on it so she can ride it like a magical unicorn princess.”
“You told her no, right?”
Harley gives me one of her famous looks. “I informed her that we couldn’t do that to a horse, but if she’d like to take her dog to the salon and see if they’d be willing to take on that challenge, we would happily find him a unicorn costume.”
I give my head a shake. “And what does the groom have to say about that?”
“Not a lot, really. He has the backbone of an amoeba. It’s very clear that she’s the dominant one in that relationship.”
“I’m so sorry you and London have had to deal with this on your own. I’m glad I’m finally back, at least in some capacity. You two are going to need a vacation when this is all over.”
“We’ll be fine. And London has managed the stress surprisingly well. Although, she has made about five million of those star things. I’m literally finding them everywhere. It’s almost like the sky is falling. But it would be great to have your input on some of the events coming up later in the fall.”
“All I want is to be productive again. I wish I could help London with the creative stuff, but I’m not great at it with two hands, let alone one.”
“That’s London’s Zen place anyway. She would spend all day making centerpieces if she could.” She parks in the spot right in front of Spark House and reaches over to squeeze my hand. “I’m really glad you’re on the mend. I can’t tell you how scared we were.”
“I know.” I squeeze her hand back. “Me too.”
Her eyes go all soft and watery. Out of the three of us, Harley is the most prone to showing emotion. If she starts to cry, I’ll probably end up doing the same. “I put mascara on today and I have no idea if it’s waterproof or not, so don’t you dare get weepy on me.”
She waves me off and gets out of the car, grabbing my chair from the trunk. I’d love to be able to crutch around, but thanks to freaking Declan with his don’t-overdo-it speech, I doubt Harley will make it that easy for me. Besides, she and London have already been through a broken, pinned ankle with me before, so it’s not as though they don’t know what I’m like during recovery. As soon as I’m given the go-ahead, I tend to push myself too hard, too fast. Since they know that, they’re bound to put up a few roadblocks so I don’t overdo it and set myself back.
“What about the crutch?” I ask as I pull myself out of the back seat and pivot so I can drop down into the chair.
“You can have that later.” She wheels me up the ramp and hits the button, so the door opens automatically for us.
I inhale a deep breath and exhale on a sigh as I take in the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of Spark House and then frown. “Does it smell like cotton candy in here?”
“Indeed, it does.”
“Does that mean there’s also a cotton candy machine somewhere around here?”
“Also, a yes.”
In addition to the gaudy pink and unicorn theme, there’s a carnival-style component to this bachelorette party that will continue through the wedding theme. Because that’s where these two met, at a carnival, on the Ferris wheel.
It really sounded like a fun, sweet, meet-cute. Her friend chickened out because she’s afraid of heights. His date got sick on the Tilt-A-Whirl and ended up going home, so there they were, in line together, ready to look over the cityscape alone, until the ride attendant made the assumption that they were a couple and forced them into the same carriage. And the rest is gaudy pink and carnival history.
Which we are fully embracing this weekend for what may be an epically hellish bachelorette party. “The weirdness of this might be on par with the hobbyhorse expo.” It’s a full-on assault to the senses.
“I think it might surpass it, if I’m going to be honest. I can’t wait until you see the cake.” She wheels me across the foyer, past a massive Pepto-Bismol pink flower arrangement to the dining and event room.
We head for the office, where I’m sure we’ll find what is likely to be a very stressed-out London based on what Harley has told me this morning. I don’t think we ever planned for a scenario like this, and maybe I didn’t do a good enough job setting things up in the first place to make it easy for Harley and London to manage.
Harley wheels me into the office. We don’t spend much time in here during events, but when we’re in the planning stages, it’s the hub of Spark House. We each have a desk arranged in a way that makes it look more like a chilled-out library than an actual office.
I don’t particularly love having to sit behind a desk all formal-like, so beyond my desk is a set of huge, comfy chairs close to the windows that overlook the sprawling gardens outside. There’s also an adjustable standing desk facing the windows and a yoga ball that I can sit on when the chair isn’t working for me and neither is standing.
Harley’s space looks like it belongs to a very organized teacher, and London’s has a placard that says LADY BOSS on it. We got it for her as a Christmas present. While I tend to be the face of events, London manages all the things behind the scenes: liaising with companies to get great deals on supplies, coming up with cool ideas to complement the theme of whatever event we’re hosting. Very lady boss behavior, even though she doesn’t necessarily like the title.
London is sitting at her desk, a pile of tiny stars in front of her, which after hearing Harley say how many there are around their house, tells me that this is her way of coping with stress. “I’m sorry, but that’s not what we agreed upon. I have the email right here. If you’re not going to honor the price, I’m happy to negotiate with another vendor. We have five weddings planned through the end of this year and we’re looking at least another fifteen next year, so I’m not interested in working with a company that says one thing and then does another. Especially when it puts our reputation on the line.” She spins around, eyes going wide when she sees me. She holds up a finger. “I’m more than happy to forward you the email citing the price. There’s been no miscommunication on my end. Maybe it would be wise to speak with Claude, as I’ve dealt with him on the past two events.” She picks up a star and drops it in a glass jar where it joins its sisters. “I’ll need an answer by the end of the day, or unfortunately I’ll have to go with a different vendor. I’m sure you understand how delays such as these can impact the success of an event.”
Her smile holds strain, but her tone is sweet. Almost admonishing. London is very good at getting what we need at a very fair price. “Of course, I sincerely appreciate you getting to the bottom of it so quickly. I’ll speak to you later. Have a lovely afternoon.”
She ends the call and rounds her desk, leaning down to give me an awkward hug. “I cannot tell you how much we miss you around here.”
“I miss being here.” Although based on the way London schooled that supplier, she’s holding her own.
“Netflix bingefest getting old?” She leans against her desk and crosses one heeled foot over the other.
What I wouldn’t give to wear a pair of shoes right now, even heels. I’m currently sporting a single Birkenstock. My toenails could really use a fresh coat of polish. “It was fine when I was medicated and my brain was firing on one cylinder, but now that I’m not in a complete fog and my brain is actually functioning, binge-watching shows is not all that exhilarating. On the upside, I can use a crutch to move around now, so I’m not completely reliant on Declan for every little thing. At least when I’m not being monitored by the crutch police.” I thumb over my shoulder at Harley.
“Just making sure you don’t overdo it on your first day back.”
“Since you’re moving around so much easier, why don’t you come stay with us for a few days? A change of scenery.” London frees a strip of pink paper and starts folding it.
“It’s really fine. We’re not getting on each other’s nerves.”
“Sort of seems like it might be the opposite, based on what I witnessed this morning.” Harley smirks.
London’s eyes narrow. “What does that mean? What did you witness?”
“She didn’t witness anything.” I can feel my face turning red, though, just like it did in the car with Harley.
“Lies. You said you’d spill the beans when we got here. We’re here, so start talking.” Harley drops into the chair across from me and cocks a brow expectantly.
I sigh. I don’t want to keep secrets from my sisters, but London’s continued disdain for Declan is a problem. One I can’t ignore forever. I guess this is a reasonable test. “Declan walked in on me while I was masturbating this morning.”
Harley slaps her palm over her mouth and mumbles, “How mortified were you?”
“Exceedingly,” I say dryly.
“That has to be difficult with your left hand.” Leave it to London to focus on the technical challenges.
Harley props her chin on her fist. “What did Declan do?”
“He apologized.”
“That can’t be all that happened.”
“Well, I couldn’t finish, because as London pointed out, I only have the use of my left hand.
So obviously I was bitchy about the whole thing. And he felt bad about walking in, so I made a comment about him helping me out.” It seemed offhand at the time, but now, with a little distance and perspective, I’m aware this has been building for a while.
“You did not!” London’s voice is an ear-piercing shriek.
“Oh yes, you did!” Harley slaps the arm of her chair, eyes lighting up with excitement while London’s shutter with concern.
“I did.”
“And? Did he take you up on the offer?” Harley waves a hand around in the air. “Never mind, your face totally says it all. How was it?”
“It was nice to get some relief.” It was more than nice, and more than just relief. It’s been ages since I’ve connected with anyone the way I did with Declan this morning. I think about the way he whispered in my ear, how it felt to have him kiss me, how I’d been nervous at first, thinking it was going to be awkward and weird, but it wasn’t either of those things. It felt amazingly natural and right. Kissing him wasn’t strange, it was euphoric, and just thinking about it makes my thighs clench.
“Oh, come on, Ave! It was nice? I need some details. This is Declan we’re talking about. He’s gotten around more than a joint at a high school party.”
She’s not wrong. He was the worst during college and has settled down some, but his love life has always been prolific. “He’s very skilled with his hands.”
Harley leans forward in her chair, knees bouncing with her excitement. “Is he a good kisser?”
“Seriously? Why are you revved up about this?”
Harley gives me her get real look. “You’ve been friends forever. I honestly thought you two were finally going to acknowledge you have feelings for each other when you moved in together, but that didn’t happen. Until now.”
“Whoa, whoa.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I have no idea where this is going, if anywhere.” Although based on what he said this morning, at the very least Declan would like to explore the chemistry we have, and so would I.
“Uh-huh, okay, whatever you say.” Harley crosses her arms and smirks.
London’s brow is furrowed with worry. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Ave? I mean, I understand we all have needs, but is he only going to be taking care of yours or is this going to be a mutual exchange?” In the very short time we’ve been talking about this, London has amassed a small collection of rainbow stars on her desk.
When Sparks Fly Page 14
