Page 89 of Calamity Rayne Gets Hitched

I hesitated. “I wish I hadn’t seen you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. And you looked really pretty in your dress.”

The truth was, I couldn’t deliberately do anything that might hurt Barrett. He was a slut but he was also a big softy. I growled, frustrated that I now had knowledge I couldn’t openly share without Elle wondering how I acquired it. “Fine. I’m sorry I punched you in the meat and veggies.”

Doing the Dirty

IN MY MOJO DOJO CASA PENTHOUSE

New York was manageable when a girl had half a dozen handlers. Devyn made all of my appointments. Josette scouted the best delis for the most delicious New York bagels—I told her we were testing them for the wedding. Quinn handled my timeline. Seraphina ordered my wedding attire, Percy kept me hydrated and fed, and Marty drove me anywhere I needed to go.

I had called Elle the day I saw Barrett, careful not to bring up anything wedding-related, but she still made no mention of the other guy or her breakup. Since she was clearly avoiding the topic, I decided not to bring it up. I just didn’t understand why we were suddenly keeping things from each other. Her secrecy hurt my feelings as much as it pissed me off.

Every day, when I talked to Hale over video chat, he sounded more groggy than the last. The jet-lag from so many short trips from one opposing time zone to the next was wearing on him.

His schedule was almost twelve hours behind mine so it always felt like I was delivering old news. We talked every morning, Tokyo time, which was usually around dinner time in New York.

I told him about my dress and the salon trips and how I’d caught Barrett making out on the street. Hale, the picture of diplomacy, saw nothing wrong with the situation.

“They’re both adults, Rayne.”

Just once I’d like him to respond to drama like a regular irrational person. Instead, he remained unshakably calm and acted all lukewarm whenever I had hot tea to spill. “That may be true, Hale, but Elle lied to me about it.”

“Lied or exercised her right to privacy?”

“Um, hello? She’s my best friend. There is no privacy.”

“Well, maybe in this case there is.”

I scoffed. “Don’t confuse things with logic. She should have told me.”

“If you’re so upset about it, maybe you should confront her and ask her why she didn’t tell you when it happened?”

Confront my problems head-on? Ick. No, thank you.

I turned the focus back to Barrett. “I’m actually a little worried about your brother. He seemed oddly…sensitive about the whole thing.”

“Barrett? He’s usually pretty casual about his dating life. I wouldn’t read too much into it.”

“I don’t think I am. Trust me, he’s not himself.”

“You caught him kissing a beautiful woman. That sounds pretty typical for Barrett.”

“Hale.”

“Okay. I’ll give him a call.”

Elle, on the other hand, seemed so unfazed by their breakup she hadn’t even mentioned it. Five days in New York, six phone calls, and God knew how many texts, and not once did she bring it up.

My concern morphed into resentment the longer her avoidance continued. I trusted Elle with every little detail of my life yet she, apparently, trusted me with nothing. Like a dog with a bone, I couldn’t stop wondering why this was, so the next day, after I finished all my bride tasks, I called Barrett. Not something I usually did, but I was desperate to understand why my bestie was being shady.

“Meyers?”

“Hey, are you still in the city?”

“Why?” He sounded so suspicious.

“Because I’m bored, avoiding studying, and I need a few hours that have nothing to do with wedding plans or sizing. Want to get some lunch?”

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