Page 57 of Bridesmaid to Bride

I inhale the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans in the air as a realization settles in. I have a duty to do whatever it takes for my family, which means returning to the firm in-person.

“Go back to New York.” My voice is steel now. “We can’t lose him, Paige. Not to another heart attack, not to anything.”

“I know,” she says simply. “But, hey—we’ll get to live in the same city again.”

“I’d love that.” I smile for real.

“If anyone can handle this, it’s you. You’ve got more guts than a fish market.” She bumps my shoulder. “You’ll take New York by storm, and Dad’ll be able to breathe easier, literally.”

“Right, but I’ll need help.” Which Dad and Paige know—I’m nowhere ready to take over a firm myself, or even close to making partner. My years away doing the food business didn’t help.

As if reading my mind—I swear Paige actually can—she says, “Foster really knows his stuff. Believe me, I’ve gone up against him in court.”

But what about West? I remind myself that there’s nothing real with West, and what we have is just for this weekend. We reaffirmed our agreement last night. Pact partners by day, lovers by night, and it all expires on Sunday when this weekend is over. There’s nothing to be sad about because you can’t lose something you never had.

“Okay.” I stand up, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. But it’s a weight I’m ready to carry. This is how things are meant to be, and it will all work out. I know it. I have to believe it can because if I don’t, I’ll completely fall apart.

I smile and say, “I’ll invite Foster as my official date to the rehearsal dinner tonight. And I’ll ask Kat if she can meet me for lunch.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

Skye hands me my coffee. “And Foster won’t know what hit him today.”

“He won’t,” Paige agrees.

I allow myself a genuine laugh. Because if I don’t, I’ll cry. And there’s no time for tears—not when there’s a father to save and a legacy to secure.

27

The Unrefusable Offer

WEST

Early morning, Darren ushers me into the empty conference room that smells like lemon polish and mahogany.

“Take a seat, West. Got some killer news for you, man,” he says, slapping the table.

I sink into a chair, hesitant because I know what’s coming next, and all I can think about is last night, with Eva.

“Drumroll, please,” he pauses for effect, no actual drumroll. “You, my friend, are the next star of Groomsman to Groom!”

It should be a gigantic victory—it’s everything I’ve been fighting for, but there’s this clench in my gut, a tangle of wires short-circuiting my system. “Wow, Darren. This is huge, man.” My voice sounds like it’s dragging through gravel.

I’m supposed to whoop, punch the air, or do whatever the hell a soon-to-be reality star does. Instead, I’m sitting here faking a smile and trying not to sweat through my tee.

“This is big time, West. Big-time.” Darren’s oblivious to the chaos in my skull.

“Totally.” I continue plastering on a smile.

He claps his hands together. “We’ve got to get you prepped for your journey. We’ve got an image to craft, social media hype to build, and contestants to bring in.”

“Right.” My head bobs. I play Eva’s words in my head. No thoughts of the future. And that’s because she and I don’t have one to think about.

Darren’s already on his feet, tapping away at his phone, probably texting the news to the masses. And I’m sitting here, trying to figure out how to keep up with this plan as I’m losing myself.

He grins, eyes gleaming. “You ready for the next surprise?”

Shit, no. “Hit me.” My stomach knots tighter.

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