Page 49 of The Lovers
And probably doesn’t know anything about Kit’s onetime dalliance with pussy.
I press my fingers against the point in my temple where most of my headache is localized, when I smell a familiar scent.
Bitter, herbal, and smokey.
Oh great.
“I just need to add some more rose quartz hearts to the tables,” Healer Arynne says, huffing past me. I’m nearly knocked down by her beefy entourage, dressed in matching shorts and freshly oiled.
Zoe appears in a stunning twist of perfect timing, directing Healer Arynne and her band of merry men to a corner of the room that’s out of earshot of the mothers. God, I hope she stays out of the way this time.
Blythe pinches her features like a dried prune, her focus trailing after Healer Arynne, but fortunately she’s not given any more ammunition for her cannon of disdain.
One more careful redirect and I’m out of here.
“I’ve set you both up with a day at the spa, tailored to your individual preferences, to get you rested and relaxed for tonight’s festivities.”
That focuses Blythe, livening up her features. All distraction evaporating with the promise of a massage. She focuses back on the list.
I pull my walkie from my waistband, calling for one of the spastaff to come retrieve the mothers. Zoe steps back into my eyeline, giving me a meaningful glare and moving away from the guests.
“I need a dark room and a tranquilizer to get rid of this headache,” I say when I reach her.
“That’ll have to wait,” she says, anxious energy emitting from her like a force field. “Millie has arrived safely at the picnic location ahead of the food. The staff set everything up to your specifications, it’s gorgeous—we got some great shots for socials—”
“Why do I feel like you’re burying the lead, Zoe?” My voice is sharp with agitation I shouldn’t be directing at Zoe.
“Because I am.” Zoe sucks in a deep breath like she’s prepping to hold it underwater. “The groom and his groomsmen are a no-show.”
“What do you mean they’re a no-show? They were supposed to be picked up—” I twist my wrist to check the time on my watch. “Half an hour ago.”
“The driver just called.”
“To say he was on his way to the picnic site?”
“To say the dudes are passed out in their tents.” She pauses, correcting. “Except for Cash Kim, who was vomiting into the firepit.”
I quickly dispel that image from my brain.Focus, Kelley.A fuckup like this could have a domino effect.
I’ve seen it before. The groom and groomsmen miss a pivotal prewedding event. They make excuses, but the bride doesn’t buy them. She starts to tug at the threads of their relationship, question the validity of his claim on her heart. The groom makes an offhand remark, she spirals it into more, and before we know it the wedding implodes.
I can’t let that happen here.
“Cover Homebase,” I say.
“Way ahead of you.” She hands me my wallet and a bottle of water plus two ibuprofen. The essentials. Zoe never misses. “Got the valet to pull your car around already.”
I ignore my pounding head and the rumble of hunger in my stomach, yanking my phone out of my back pocket to put the address of the bachelor party festivities into my GPS as I book it across the venue to my car.
Chapter Nineteen
Kit
I ate my bodyweight in homestyle potatoes and huevos rancheros. The tableside guac was to die for, but the real scene-stealer was the pineapple peach agua fresca. I do a quick check of my clothes to make sure nothing got on the white tank and cutoffs in my enthusiasm, before paying my bill and leaving through the side entrance. Stuffed, happy, ready for a relaxing day until the rehearsal dinner festivities.
A daynotspent obsessing over the wedding planner.
“Oof!” I exclaim with a gasp.
