Page 80 of Blue Hawaiian
Marc waved the suggestion away. “Nah. When she’s this mad, the best thing to do is give her some space. I’ll wait a while, then I’ll text her and apologize. She’ll come back, and we’ll talk it out rationally.”
He could hardly believe how calm Marc seemed. “Does this happen a lot?”
“Only over the big stuff. The last time she walked out on one of our arguments was when we were planning the wedding. I didn’t want a destination wedding. I wanted to have it at the Blackwood Cellars Estate in Temecula or at one of our Napa vineyards so more of our family could come.”
“What happened?”
“Gabi left for a couple hours, drove around, probably called Jess. Then I texted her and said I was sorry. I asked if she could come back so we could talk it out. And we did. Like two rational adults.”
“Why’d you give in?” He drained the rest of his glass and refilled it from the bottle.
“Because Gabi wanted it so badly. She’s obsessed with having the perfect wedding, partly because her mom had a crappy courthouse wedding and her marriage ended in divorce. Gabi doesn’t want the same thing to happen to her.”
Connor kept quiet. A fancy wedding was no guarantee a couple would stay together. Or that they’d have a good marriage. He’d seen photos of his parents’ lavish wedding, but he wouldn’t call their marriage “good” by any stretch of the imagination. His father had been unfaithful to his mother for years and routinely cheated on her during his business trips. Connor suspected his mother knew about it but resigned herself to looking the other way.
“While you’re here, you want to help me finish the wedding programs?” Marc said. “Gabi was going to ask Luisa and Jess to come up after dinner, but that’s not going to happen now.”
“Aren’t the programs fine, as is?”
“Nope. We have to get them done tonight, as per Gabi’s specifications.” Marc walked over to a small table in the corner of the suite.
Connor topped off his bourbon, then joined Marc at the table, which held the box of programs he’d picked up from Lahaina.
Marc rifled through a shopping bag on the floor, then pulled out a large Ziploc bag filled with blue and purple ribbons. “I already punched holes along the edge of the programs. Gabi wants these ribbons woven through the holes. Like this.” He held up a finished one. “Got it?”
Connor nodded. The bourbon was giving him a buzz, but he’d give it a shot. His first attempt was a disaster. As he looked around at all the wedding paraphernalia—menus, lists, photos of flower arrangements, bags filled with votive candles and bags of shells—his stomach curdled in shame. Marc was dealing with all this shit himself, and Connor was partly to blame.
“Hey, man, sorry if I fucked things up for you, even temporarily.”
“Don’t apologize. What happened at dinner was Brody’s fault. Gabi overreacted.”
He stared as Marc wove his ribbons flawlessly. “Yeah, but you asked me not to get involved with Jess, and I did it anyway. That’s on me.”
“I shouldn’t have asked in the first place. It’s your vacation. What you do with your free time is your business.” Marc blew out a long breath. “The only reason I brought it up was because Gabi insisted on it. But, if you think about it, she wanted Jess to have fun on this trip, and obviously, she did. Right?”
“Right.” He and Jess were both consenting adults. If Gabi hadn’t demanded they stay apart, they wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hide their fling.
“I’m not even mad at Brody,” Marc added. “Poor guy got his nuts handed to him on a platter. And I’m not mad at Jess either. She didn’t want this.”
“But she brought it on herself.”
Marc gave him a look of genuine confusion. “You’re mad at her? Why?”
He bristled with anger. “She lied to me. About everything. Fed me all this bullshit about her great life in Chicago.”
Marc took Connor’s program and unwound the ribbons. “Not good enough. Try again.” He handed the program back to him. “Maybe Jess’s lies had nothing to do with you. Maybe she was ashamed to be seen as a failure.”
“I wouldn’t call her a failure. She took a risk, and it didn’t work out. That’s not her fault.” Like Jess, he’d made his share of mistakes, but he didn’t want them to define him.
“I’m not so sure,” Marc said. “Gabi was so excited when Jess got that job in Chicago because it seemed like her luck was finally changing. But instead of succeeding, she ended up with nothing. No boyfriend. No job. No apartment. Now she has to come home and start all over again. So, it wasn’t about you.”
Connor grunted. If Jess felt like a failure, she should have told him. She knew how much he was struggling, trying to decide whether to leave the security of Blackwood Cellars for the risk of starting a new business. Given all the hours they’d spent talking—not just fucking, but actually talking—he assumed she was comfortable sharing anything with him.
Obviously, he’d been wrong.
He finally got the ribbons to weave the correct way. He showed it to Marc. “Here. Nailed it.”
Marc smirked and pointed to his pile. He’d already completed five.
