1
aubrey
Trivia night at Joystick’s would never be the same.
Not like it was a normal affair to begin with.
All of my friends were gathered around Sylvie, congratulating her. It seemed everyone forgot Sawyer’s spectacular hand in helping our trivia team lose a tiebreaker, when my little sister walked in the door and announced she was moving back to Haddarville for the next month, to plan her wedding.
I couldn’t stop hugging her. Congratulating her. Smiling about the news. Sylvie looked so happy.
In the back of my mind, I was concerned that she’d flown out here impulsively—not telling anyone she was coming—and she’d been in such a hurry to get here that she’d paid too much for a driver, rather than rent a car. My plan everything and do it all by the book sister didn’t do impulsive.
But she was so happy.
Questions came at her from every side. She was only two years younger than me, so my friends all knew her. Some of them had been in her class in school. Everyone wanted to know who he was, what he did for a living, where they met, and how he proposed.
We had all pulled our chairs around a single table, or tried. It was more like we’d built a messy circle of a dozen or so chairs around Sylvie, and were lovingly interrogating her.
Everyone joined in except Sebastian. He had sneaked out within moments of her showing up. The two were a couple when his tech company went sideways, and he still blamed her for being a part of the backstab that lost him his creation.
“How did you convince a big city broker to come back here for a wedding?” I added my own question to the list.
Sylvie hadn’t stopped grinning since she walked in. “He wanted to elope. The night he proposed, he wanted us to hop a plane to Vegas and tie the knot. It was so romantic.”
“Whoa, back up,” I said playfully. “Who the hell is this guy that he made Sylvie-fucking-Lantrey want to be impulsive?” I loved my sister, and all her quirks, including the fact that she was organized to the point of obsession, and doing something like changing her coffee brand required a twenty-page slide show for herself, to weigh the pros and cons.
“He’s helped me with a lot of things, like learning to be more impulsive.”
Which would mean a ten-page slideshow instead of twenty.
“Besides, I didn’t agree to elope. There was no way I was doing this without my family. Without you and Marianne. You have to be there. You have to help me plan all this in the next month and find the perfect dress and be my maid of honor?” Sylvie ended on what sounded like a question, and fixed me with a pleading look.
Me? She didn’t have a super best friend back in Seattle who would be here in a few days to take over all the planning? Not that I’d ever heard her mention anyone. But… Me?
“I’d love to.” I squealed and pulled her into another hug.
The group of us stayed and talked for a few more hours—long past closing time. Joystick never said a word, but his partner Eli was looking tired. Neither of them knew Sylvie, and it wasn’t fair to keep them here this late.
I stood and pulled Sylvie to her feet. “You’re staying with me, of course.” Which meant I could keep talking to her tonight.
“Are you sure? I can get a room at the motel.”
I scoffed and pretended to be offended. “No. My guest room is yours for as long as you need it.” I lived in the apartment above my vintage clothing store, and while it wasn’t a big place, it was better than shoving her in any motel room.
“Okay.” Sylvie grabbed the handle of her rolling suitcase. “I should get to bed early anyway. I still have to wrap up some work in the morning.”
“You’re not on vacation?” Maddox asked.
Sylvie’s laugh was one of disbelief. “Sort of? There are still things that need to be done.”
Which meant she hadn’t dropped everything to be here. That was more like my sister. There was a reason she was the youngest Senior Vice President at the company she worked for, and next in line for the position of Chief Operations Officer.
She gave everyone goodnight hugs, extracted a group promise to help her as needed with planning, and she and I were on our way.
I tugged her rolling suitcase, and a smaller bag over my shoulder, while she had her laptop and purse. Because we tended to drink a lot on trivia night, and even the people who had houses instead of apartments above their shops didn’t live far away, most of us tended to walk. There weren’t many cars around.
But my place was only a couple blocks from Joystick’s. Probably a shorter trip to haul Sylvie’s luggage than any she’d taken through the airport.