Page 46 of Kissing for Keeps
She taps her phone, and the display wakes, showing the time. Behind is a picture of Siena and Madi. They’re resting their chins on their hands at the edge of a pool, their faces tanned, their smiles bright. They’ve been the best of friends for a long time, and that’s a good reminder for me.
“Shoot,” she says, hurrying to her feet. “I need to check out the grounds and ballroom.”
“Again?” I ask.
She rifles through her backpack, tucking her hair behind her ear when it falls into her face. “Yeah. I’m going to sketch out where things will go—what way the chairs will face during the ceremony, where to hold the cocktail hour, stuff like that.” She pulls out a notebook. “Want to come? You could lend yourexpert eye.”
I absolutely do.
But I shouldn’t. I can feel myself entering dangerous territory with Siena, and yet, if Idon’tgo, I have no doubt Philippe’s minions will let him know there’s abeautiful, single woman on the loose, and he’ll pounce.
“Enough with the begging, Sheppard,” I say, pretending to be totally exhausted by the request. “I’ll come, but it’ll cost you.”
She slips a pencil into the notebook, then shoots me a sympathetic grimace. “Take it up with my bankruptcy lawyer.”
I school my expression into something threatening. “Oh,I will.”
* * *
The groundsof Chateau Vidal are especially beautiful without Philippe draping cardigans all over Siena’s shoulders. Whether the trauma-bonding I joked about is real or Siena’s just happy to be free of her parking garage cage, the way she’s talking to me has shifted. Not a big shift. Just less bite to her comebacks, maybe. More willingness to laugh.
It makes me extra glad I came along. We discuss time of day, direction of sunlight, where the wedding party will be coming from, and more as Siena roughly sketches how things will look during the wedding ceremony.
“Yeah, I think this will work best,” Siena says. “That way, Madi can keep away from the eyes of the guests—and Rémy—while she makes her way to the aisle.” She frowns. “Who’s walking Madi down the aisle? You?”
I laugh. “Uh, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because Madi barely tolerates me. Trust me. There’s no way she’d ask me to do that. And I’m fine with it. She’ll probably have Rémy’s dad do it. Or maybe my mom.”
Siena looks at me like she wants to probe into things more, but she goes back to her sketch instead, and the topic shifts. I’m grateful for that. I don’t really want to get into things right now. I’ve spent my life making sure nobody thinks I’m trying to take my dad’s place in our family. Walking Madi down the aisle is about as literal as I could get to stepping into his shoes. Aside from actuallywearinghis shoes, which I wouldn’t because they were a size smaller than mine.
It takes an hour and a half to get through the ceremony, cocktail hour, and reception sketches. By then, the sun is going down, and our stomachs are grumbling. It’s been a long day.
“What’d you say that movie was called?” I ask as we pass under the vine-draped archway on our way to the cottage. It’s a warm night, and a couple of the brighter stars are twinkling in the dusky sky. “Forever and Always?”
She laughs. “Ever After?”
“Same difference. We should watch it tonight. Take a break from all the wedding stuff. It’s been a long day, and you deserve a breather.”
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy?”
“My personal motto.”
“Really? When you have so many others to choose from?”
I shoot her a look. “You want my personal motto to be Jack of all trades, but master of none? Jack be nimble, Jack be quick? Jack Sprat could eat no fat; his wife could eat no lean?”
She shrugs. “I was thinking more along the lines of Hit the road, Jack. Or Jack squat. Or even Jacka—”
“Hey!” I bump into her on purpose. “Watch your language, young lady.”
She laughs and retakes her place next to me, walking shoulder to cardigan-less shoulder.
“Fine,” she says. “Let’s watch the movie.”
17
