Page 69 of Bridesmaid to Bride

“Would ya look at that?” Buck nudges his wife with an elbow.

“Y’all were having a good ol’ time,” Bonnie says.

I shoot them a tight smile, my insides twisted in a knot.

West scrapes a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

“Language!” Bonnie smacks his hand.

The screen’s glow feels like a spotlight, singeing my cheeks with the heat of a thousand suns. I want to evaporate.

Tyson, you asshole. I envision his smug face, probably high-fiving himself for catching that ratings-gold moment between West and me. I hope to God my father is asleep.

My eyes are stuck on the horror unfolding before me on the screen. “They can’t show this! Can they?”

“Actually, yes,” West says. “We contractually agreed that any public place is fair game for filming this weekend.”

“Dammit to the moon,” Buck mumbles, eyes bulging. “This’ll be the talk of the town.”

And that’s all I can take. “If you’ll excuse me.” I slide out of my seat, walk off the patio, then sprint back to my room.

34

The Shove Off

WEST

After Eva stormed away, my parents announced they were heading to bed. I took off after Eva, but she told me she needed time alone. I don’t blame her—words can’t describe how it felt to sit there, watching everyone watch us in the most private, intimate moment of our lives. Now I’m in my room, pacing back and forth when a text notification pings from my phone. I check it.

Neil Steinberg: Meet me in my room Now!

Oh, fuck. I’m sure this is going to go well.

Dragging my feet across the manicured lawn of the resort, I can still hear the echoes of my parents clashing with Shitweasel. The airing of my and Eva’s kiss. Now, Neil has summoned me to meet with him privately in his room.

I let out a sigh that feels like it’s been building up since high school because I’m public enemy number one. I mean, it’s not every day you can upstage your parents getting into a fight with a senator during a rehearsal dinner.

Each step’s heavy with the weight of old insecurities. I don’t know what Neil’s going to say to me, but I know. It’s going to be something along the lines of “Go away, Weirdo West.” Maybe Rebecca Hammond had a crystal ball because here I am, living up to the name in high definition.

I knock on Neil’s door, and when he opens it, his glare could scorch paint off the walls. Right now, it’s aimed straight at me. He ushers me into his penthouse suite, not offering me a word or a drink. Just a simple point to where I’m supposed to sit. I follow his instructions, but he stays standing, his knuckles white, like he’s mentally preparing to wring my neck.

“West.” He takes a drag of his whiskey on the rocks before saying, “I’ll cut to the chase. I don’t like you.”

Right. So this is how this is going to go. “I’m sorry, sir.” I have no idea what else to say.

He leans forward, eyes narrowed. The tension in the room thickens. “I’ve tolerated your presence because Eva cares about you. But make no mistake, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever let you into our family.”

“Look,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck, “I get it. You want what’s best for Eva.”

“Exactly. And that’s not someone who—” He cuts himself off, jaw clenching like he’s got more to say but thinks better of it.

“Someone who what?” I fish for where this is headed.

“Let’s just say your choices haven’t exactly instilled me with confidence.”

“Fair enough.” My voice is tight. “But can’t we agree that Eva makes her own decisions?”

“Decisions influenced by people around her.” Neil points a finger in my general direction. I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass in the afternoon sun. “Eva deserves the best.” His voice is laced with a special brand of disdain.

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