Page 110 of The Best Men
Maybe he’s in the living room or kitchen, though I don’t hear him.
But I hope I’ll find him there.
I pull on clothes and glasses and head into the empty kitchen where Asher has left me a love note on the counter. It’s written on crisp white stationery with a palm tree in the corner. Something supplied by the property management company probably. Maybe for secret trysts. I pick it up and read.
Have some coffee, nerd boy.
Your suit is hanging in my bedroom closet. You will look hot in it.
Aren’t you glad I didn’t make you try on the salmon one?
I will find you later to check for love bites.
Pictures start at 10 a.m.
My heart kicks. No one would ever accuse me of being sentimental, but I fold the letter and tuck it safely into my pocket. This is the kind of note I’ll read more than once.
An unformed idea tugs at my mind, and since I’m not quite ready to dress for the wedding, I take the kernel of an idea along with my mug of coffee and head into the mansion to see how my sister is holding up after last night’s freak-out.
I find Hannah on the second floor, where Flip has been kicked out of the master suite. Not for bad behavior, though—for wedding preparations.
My sister stands in front of a three-way mirror, trying on her newly fitted dress to show my mother.
Happiness is everything I could want for my baby sister on her wedding day.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hannah croons. The light in her smile tells me that she and Flip must have had a good talk last night. Hopefully I can get her alone later and ask. “Some women put off their weddings because they don’t want to look pregnant when they’re walking down the aisle. But I don’t care! The baby bump is glorious, and I wouldn’t change athing!”
I guess that answers that. And yup, only good things happened here on Star Island last night. There is nothing Titanic-like about Hannah’s wedding. Not a damn thing is doomed.
“So what happens now, Banana?” I ask. “You need anything?”
“Not one thing,” she says. “Hair and makeup are next, although Asher snuck off with the hairdresser after he checked the wedding cake delivery. You can eat some breakfast and then get dressed before the photos.”
“Will do.” I step closer and kiss her cheek. “You’re beautiful today.”
“I know.” She beams.
“And humble,” I tease. “And—most importantly—happy.”
“I am all those things.” She squeezes my hand. “Thank you for . . .” She glances at my mother. “. . . chatting with me last night. I needed that.”
Funny, but I needed it too. That talk did something for both of us, and now, an idea starts to take shape in my mind. There’s room for it at last.
But first, Hannah. “No problem. Glad to help. Are you sure I can’t do anything? Like look for the florist?”
“They’re already here and decorating the tent. Don’t worry, Mark! You did exactly what I asked you to do, and it’s going great. I’ll never forget this.”
“Good,” I say, squeezing her hand.
“I know I sprung it on you,” she continues. “I asked you to fly twelve hundred miles and collaborate with someone you don’t really like.”
And now I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Because I do like him.
God, I like him so much. And we’re done. As in, finished. Because I wanted it that way.
But now? I don’t want that at all.
I take a deep breath and blow it out.
