“But you’ve got no problem chucking me?”
Her breath caught. She had a huge problem with it. So big it was going to swallow her alive. “If you had any interest in… settling down some day… even theoretically…” She looked deep into his eyes, tilting on the edge.
“You want a guarantee, Lucy. I can’t give one. I won’t.”
“Not a guarantee, just a possibility. Can you imagine…” She trailed off, finally realizing how angry he was. His jawline was rigid, clenched.
He can’t imagine. He can’t because it’s not what he wants. From me or any woman.
Ever.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” she said dully, stepping away from him. “Before we go home.”
Chapter 23
THERE WAS NO BACHELORETTE PARTY. Fawn decreed the evening free of any obligations and insisted her friends go and enjoy themselves—after the four of them shared a last meal in the Snowy Egret.
“But it’s bad luck not to have a party the night before!” Krista said. “We’ve been planning it for months.”
“The whole week was all about me,” Fawn said, toasting each of them with her chardonnay. “I want all of you fresh and happy in the morning. Not sick of me. Or hung over. We’ll be posing for lots of pictures.”
Lucy, who’d been struggling to put Miles out of her mind, looked up at her. “Don’t you get enough of that at work?”
Somebody kicked her under the table. Probably Krista, given the constipated look on her face.
“We’ll keep it simple, don’t worry,” Krista said, putting her hand on Fawn’s arm. “Just a little drinking and a few games and I promise we’ll get to bed early.”
“I’m so sorry, but no,” Fawn said. “I love you guys but I’m spending tonight all by myself. I arranged it with the staff an hour ago. I’ll have my own cabin and nobody will know where I am. I’ve got a hot tub, my music, a nice book, lavender oils, and the stars. The real ones, not the famous kind.” She smiled at each of them. “I’ll see you first thing tomorrow at seven. No makeup—I’ll take care of that. Hair, too, and dresses. And I want to give each of you a little something.”
“Tux. You promised a tux,” Betty said.
“Of course. You and Huntley’s sister both.” Fawn grinned. “I can’t wait to see how Dear Old Mom reacts when the two of you walk down the aisle arm in arm.”
“So long as we don’t have to get ceremonially hitched at the altar in some kind of straight liberal guilt fest, I’m cool with it,” Betty said. “Is she as hot as her brother?”
“Touch her during the service and you die,” Fawn said.
Betty laughed.
Pushing the gratin around on her plate, Lucy tried not to think about having to endure the ceremony at Miles’s side. All day, having to smile and act happy for Fawn and Huntley when all she wanted was to get the hell out of there and forget the disgusted look on Miles’s face when she suggested a future together.
“Come on, girls,” Krista said, looking around the table. “We had a plan!”
“Now you sound like Lucy,” Fawn said.
“We’ve wrapped the party favors and everything!”
Lucy lifted her drink. “It’s just chocolate. In obscene shapes.”
Another kick. This time it was obviously Krista, because she followed it up by taking away Lucy’s gin and tonic. “Stop drinking. Save your meager tolerance for the party.”
“There isn’t going to be a party.” Lucy snatched it back so roughly it spilled over her knuckles. “Because that’s what Fawn wants and we love her.”
“Fawn’s just saying that because some of us have made such a mess of our lives we can’t handle being with other people.”
“I’ll be fine,” Betty said. “Jaynette will be psyched I’m free tonight.”
“I meant Lucy!” Krista cried.
“Oh. Well, she’s earned a little sexcapade, don’t you think? Being engaged to that gay guy all those years.” Betty ran her hand through the green side of her hairdo. “If she wants to spend another night with a straight man, I say we let her. Hell, I’ll set up the mood lighting.”
“Dan was not gay,” Lucy said, wondering if that was true. “And I’m not sleeping with anyone tonight.”
Fawn gave her a sharp look.
“His eyebrows were skinnier than mine are,” Betty said.
“He was fastidious, that’s all,” Lucy said.
“Wouldn’t go down on you, would he?” Betty asked.
“Betty!” Krista gasped, looking around them at the restaurant. Betty’s voice tended to carry. Especially when she was talking about female reproductive organs in public. “Just because you have a unibrow doesn’t—”
“I do not. Look. Asian girl here.” Betty gave Lucy a knowing nod. “He was gay. Have fun tonight.”
Lucy focused on her halibut alfredo, not wanting to talk about how little fun she was going to have.
“Before I go, I need to tell you all something,” Fawn said suddenly.
Lucy stopped chewing. Fawn looked nervous.
“Back when Huntley and I planned this wedding,” she began, “we were afraid his parents would never really accept me. So we figured we’d move into my place in Berkeley for a while, take a break from our jobs, plan our life together.” Fawn dropped her gaze to her wine. “And then, when his parents came around, we’d move to New York.”
Lucy forced herself to swallow the lump of potato in her mouth. “You’re moving to New York?”
Full of concern, Fawn’s eyes met hers. She nodded.
“Cool,” Betty said. “Can we visit?”
“Definitely. I insist,” Fawn said.
Lucy smiled, but she felt hot tears threatening. “Right after the honeymoon?”
“I wanted to break it to you more gently, but all of a sudden Rosalind and Huntley are really nice and talking about buying us a place—in Manhattan!—as a wedding gift, and there was no time.”
Krista had the nerve to nudge Lucy under the table again before reaching across the table to Fawn. “We’re happy for you.”
After returning Krista’s kick in the shin, Lucy lifted a glass to the bride. Fawn travelled a lot, but her home base had always been in California. Now, with both her career and her new family on the East Coast, they’d grow apart. They’d learn about their lives from Christmas cards and emails, birth announcements. People magazine.
She would not cry. “To Fawn,” Lucy said. “The most beautiful person I know, inside and out.”
They all clinked glasses and drank, even Krista. Everyone was sniffling.
Fawn jumped up and went around the table to kiss each one of them. “I’d better go before I change my mind. On everything. I love you guys so much.” She got to Lucy and whispered, “We’ll talk later.”
“I’m fine. Enjoy yourself,” Lucy said, squeezing her arm.
When she was gone, Krista told Lucy, “This is all your fault.” Then she scowled at Betty. “And yours.”
“Make up your mind.” Betty pulled out her cell, studied the screen, looked back at Krista. “Uh, any chance I can have the cabin tonight? Jaynette’s roommate is back.”
Krista rolled her eyes. “I swear, you are such a frat boy. What next, hanging your underwear on the doorknob to warn me you’re busy?”
Lucy gulped down the rest of her drink and felt the fire course down to her belly. Clearing the air with Krista wasn’t something she wanted to do, but it was on her to-do list. And it might help her feel better. “You can sleep in my cabin, Krista,” Lucy said. “Obviously Fawn won’t be there.”
“What about the big guy?” Betty said.
Lucy shrugged, trying to look casual. She’d tell them all about it later when her feelings weren’t so raw. “Not tonight.”
“Actually, I don’t need either cabin,” Krista said softly. She glanced at Lucy before taking a big gulp of her wine. “I’ll be with Alex.”
It shouldn’t have bothered Lucy, but it did. Everyone pairing up, moving
on.
“What about the bachelor party?” Betty asked.
“After that. They’re making it an early night, too.”
“Sure they are,” Betty said. “Watch him show up drunk and missing a front tooth.”
“No, Huntley insisted he wants to keep it mellow.”
“And you’re not sleeping with Miles? Not even for one last fling?” Betty asked Lucy.
Both of them looked at her. They wouldn’t be alone tonight, wondering if they’d done the right thing, if they were brave or a coward. She forced a smile and shook her head.
“Ah, well,” Betty said. “There’s always tomorrow night.”
Chapter 24
MILES STOOD UNDER THE ROSE arbor in a flood of sunshine. The ceremony was only moments away, not on the beach but in a courtyard of an old Mediterranean-style villa that predated the spa by a hundred years. Only a half mile east of the Greeting Lot, through the forest and over a ridge, the villa and original vineyard was the spa’s acknowledgement that wealthy guests would want convenience and glamor, not just rustic eccentricity, for their biggest events.
Golden stone walls surrounded them, semi-ruined but picturesque, overrun with vining jasmine and wild roses. Artful ruin was good ambiance, Miles supposed, though in his opinion the faux-distressed bricks were overdone. They could have used the cheap new kind and just bombed the place.
Shielded from wind and bathed in warm sun, he had to admit the courtyard was an idyllic spot for a famously photogenic pair’s wedding. The guests sat in curved rows of white lattice-back chairs hung with floral garlands, their eyes fixed on the groom and his best man, waiting for the fun to begin.
The elder Sterlings sat in the front row, looking as pleased as Miles had ever seen them. No doubt relieved by the classy setting. Or maybe they were actually happy for their son.
In a row behind them, Miles’s father sat next to Heather, who wore an enormous yellow hat. His dad looked tired and old in a gray suit, his body leaning away from his brightly colored wife. But for a moment, he glanced up and met Miles’s gaze, and something vivid and affectionate passed between them. Remembering their night at the bar, maybe, or acknowledging the irony of celebrating another marriage when his fourth was in trouble.
And then he pointedly glanced at Heather and rolled his eyes. Miles swallowed a smile.
The groom, however, wasn’t enjoying himself. Rigid and silent, Huntley stared down the aisle with his hands clutched in a vice grip in front of him.
Thinking of Lucy, Miles sank back into his own misery.
“She’s not coming,” Huntley said.
“Of course she is.” Miles felt around in his pocket for Fawn’s ring to confirm for the tenth time it was still there. Their little ring bearer, one of Huntley’s cousins, had panicked and thrown up over the elder Huntley’s shoes. He’d been mercifully relieved of his duties.
Though Miles would have appreciated a wild night of bar hopping, strip clubs, gambling, and other celebratory vice, Huntley insisted on dinner (one beer), a movie (French), and an early return to the spa. Alex enjoyed it (he chose the restaurant and the movie), but Miles would much have rather sat it out, alone, in his cabin.
To scheme.
He still couldn’t understand where he’d gone wrong with Lucy. And how to make it right.
Sitting near a fountain near the back, the string quartet switched from Bach to Handel. Heads turned, bodies shifted, gazes moved up the aisle to capture the first glimpse of the bride.
“I’m going to be sick,” Huntley said, smiling through a clenched jaw.
His skin did look a little green next to his slicked-back pale hair. Keeping the groom from upchucking at the altar was probably top of the best man’s List of Duties.
Betty and Courtney, Huntley’s sister, began walking down the aisle, arm-in-arm in their tuxedos. A mumbled reaction rippled through the crowd but the women were up for it. They approached with their chins high, dead serious.
“Not going to make it,” Huntley muttered.
“Knock knock,” Miles said quickly.
Next, Krista and Alex appeared. The two looked good together. Quite comfortable with each other, actually. Their hips brushed against each other’s while they walked, and both looked happier than they had all week.
Guess Alex made a late night of it after all.
“Who’s there,” Huntley replied.
“Orange,” Miles said.
“Orange who?”
“Orange I cute in a tuxedo?”
Huntley let out a little breathy laugh, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Is it too late to move this to the beach?”
“I’m game,” Miles said.
Then Lucy appeared and he forgot about Huntley. Just the other day he’d had her. The perfect woman. He’d always thought she was beautiful, but now—now she was breathtaking. Red hair, green eyes, pale skin, a knockout dress that plunged and curved in all the right places.
It hurt to look at her.
Give it up. She wants an aquarium-loving sperm donor, not you, he told himself.
“Knock knock,” Huntley said.
Lucy’s dress was pale pink, almost white. Like a bride. “Who’s there?” Miles barely managed to say.
His bride.
He told his heart to calm down. It wasn’t his wedding. Lucy was wearing pink. Everything’sfinedeepbreath.
Lucy looked nervous. She didn’t have the carefree good humor of a bridesmaid. With her eyes fixed on the ground, she walked unnaturally slowly after Alex and Krista, a fixed smile on her face.
Everyone else faded away. His chest felt tight. Her cheeks were flushed with color.
His little redhead.
No, not his. Not anymore.
“Banana,” Huntley said.
Her hair gleamed like fire.
Huntley nudged him in the ribs. “Banana.”
Miles glanced at him. Sighed. “Banana who?”
“Banana I cute in my tuxedo?”
He turned his gaze back on Lucy. She was only a few feet away from them now, and apparently wasn’t going to lift her eyes from the ground. “Very banana,” he said vaguely.
“You’re worse off than I am,” Huntley said, just as the flower girl burst into the aisle holding her white basket.
Got that right.
They didn’t go home until tomorrow. He still had a chance.
* * *
The wedding attendants flanked the bride and groom, three on each side, facing the important couple and the middle-aged woman who was officiating the vows.
Don’t cry, Lucy told herself.
She was a capable, sensible person. It didn’t make any sense to cry just because her friend and her friend’s chosen mate were saying a few words to each other in front of hundreds of people.
“You complete me,” Fawn said.
Oh, God, even worse. She was going to lose it with a cliché.
“You had me at hello,” Huntley said right before he kissed her.
I give up, Lucy thought as the tears broke over her eyelashes, artfully lacquered with waterproof mascara, and trailed down her cheeks. At least she’d had the brains to smuggle a few tissues inside her bouquet. She pulled one out during Fawn’s reciting of an e.e.cummings poem and dabbed at her eyes.
She risked a peek at Miles. Unfortunately, he wasn’t absorbed with the ceremony and crying into a tissue.
He was staring right at her. Electric shocks tingled down her spine.
She’d always liked how he looked. Ridiculously out of proportion to her, his action-figure girth, the height that shrunk doorways—he was attractive. A fun adventure.
Not anymore. Now he was scary.
First of all, he was wearing a black tuxedo. Not the kind she was used to, the ill-fitting Hefty bags rented at the mall, but a gorgeous ensemble of perfectly tailored inky sleekness that turned him into a broad-shouldered, sophisticated god.
She’d always been a sucker for black. And now, with her heart all stirred up and her bod
y remembering every inch of his? A body she’d never touch again?
It hurt to look at him.
Focus on Krista. Put him out of your mind.
But when she looked at her beautiful friend she saw the over-caffeinated brightness of a woman who’d had a hot and sweaty night. Good for her. No, really. They looked great together.
I wonder if Alex still has that picture of me in his wallet.
Alex’s gaze slid away from the bride and groom and settled on Krista. Teeth that Lucy had never seen before flashed in his face as he smiled at her. Bright, lusty happiness shone in his face.
That picture was in a garbage can somewhere by now. No—a recycling bin.
She shoved the tissue back between the Peruvian lilies and godetias in her bouquet. Good riddance. She was happy for Krista, or would be if it was what she wanted. If he completed her.
Pfft. Nobody was going to complete anybody, that was bullshit. Everyone was alone and needed to accept that. As soon as you started thinking you needed somebody else in order to be a whole person, you put an impossible burden on the relationship. Anchoring it to the ground, preventing either of you from moving forward, growing, living.
Like Fawn. Her best friend. Lucy would miss her, but she had a new life to begin. New York was far, but Fawn had spent many months of each year there since she was seventeen. With the Sterlings and her career, of course she should settle there. Lucy would just have to fly more often. Maybe get a frequent flyer credit card, work the system to accrue lots of points.
Her mind was already making the spreadsheet, tallying the dollars and points and months.
“You are my sunshine,” Huntley said with a straight face. In fact, his voice cracked.
Lucy pulled out her tissue again just before they kissed. Unable to help herself, she glanced at Miles.
He was gazing at her, his own eyes shining.
Chapter 25
THE RECEPTION WAS IN THE same courtyard as the wedding, though the white chairs were cleared away and replaced with the spa staffers in white uniforms carrying trays of food and drinks. Shawn had spiced up his outfit with a polka-dot bow tie and a big grin.
The Supermodel's Best Friend Page 26
