Page 62 of Bridesmaid to Bride

Hmm. This is hard for me to believe, as my dad is an upfront person, and he deals with things head on. But right now, I don’t think there’s anything more to say here besides calling Kat a liar, which I will not do. “Okay,” I say, sitting up in my chair. “I understand. But remember, Paige is very jumpy, so please handle her with kid gloves.”

“Understood.” She nods earnestly.

“Good.” I muster a smile.

“Then let’s toast.” West is ever the opportunist. “To new beginnings.”

“And a drama-free weekend ahead.” I clink glasses.

Please. Let there be no more wedding bombs I have to diffuse.

29

The Work Date

EVA

We’ve made it to the rehearsal dinner—alive—and the scene is storybook. The ocean waves lap softly against the dock as the sun dips toward the horizon, casting an orange glow over the restaurant patio. I dart between tables like a pinball, ensuring every napkin swan is fluffed, every centerpiece is centered, and every candle is lit.

A rogue gust of wind sends a menu card skittering across the deck. I lunge for it, saving it from a plunge into the ocean—a perfect metaphor for my life these past few days. Luckily, today’s photo shoot went smoothly—thank the wedding gods—and the snapshots are sure to be FaceSnap gold.

“Looking good, Eva!” Hayes calls out, his camera slung around his neck like always. He’s here to capture magic, which I hope I’ve created with sweat, tears, and a bit of my soul.

“Thanks, Hayes. Please don’t shoot my bad side,” I say, though I’m not even sure I have a good side right now.

I glance over as Paige makes her entrance—the stunning bride-to-be. She’s glowing like those light bulbs promising eternal luminescence. The full set of cameras is rolling, catching her laughter, her waves, her everything. She’s in her element, and I can’t help but feel a swell of pride. My sister is about to get her happily ever after.

“Everything looks gorgeous, Eva.” Paige’s smile rivals the setting sun. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Stop, I can’t smear my mascara.” Inside, warmth spreads through my chest. This is why I do it—to be the rock she can always lean on.

“Oh, careful with that centerpiece!” I call out to a server who’s a millisecond away from toppling a floral monstrosity. Disaster averted, I let out a breath, rushing over to straighten the blooms. Things have to be perfect—tonight, Foster’s father, Senator Schmidt Easel, will be here. Bridesmaid to Bride had to sign special documentation to not air any footage of him in order for him to agree to come. Admittedly, I’m nervous to have someone so high profile in attendance. Not to mention, I want to impress the man I’m dating.

That’s right—I texted him and asked if he’d be my official date for tonight, and he happily agreed.

As the first guests trickle in, a symphony of hellos and air kisses fills the air. I hang back, watching the scene unfold, a silent conductor of this orchestra. Then I snag a champagne flute from a passing tray, allowing myself a small celebration: here’s to surviving what’s left of this week without losing my mind.

In steps Foster, looking sharp in his navy suit, and next to him is his father, Schmidt, who I haven’t seen in years.

“Hey, Foster, Senator Easel,” I say, rushing over to them with a smile.

After we exchange pleasantries, I usher Senator Easel to the seat next to my father and Kat, then bring Foster to the seat next to mine, saying, “You’re stuck with me tonight.”

He turns, that smile of his beaming at me. “Stuck? I’d say I’m the luckiest guy here.”

“Aren’t you Mr. Charming?”

He pulls out my chair. After I thank him, he says, “Look at that sunset.”

“It’s incredible.” I take it in, fighting to quiet the million and one thoughts pinging through my brain.

Foster sits. “As beautiful as the maid of honor. And the bride-to-be.”

“I don’t know about that.” I stare at Paige and her cream dress flowing in the breeze. How does she do it? I sip my champagne, letting it calm me. Tonight’s about Paige, family, and commitment—and… oh my God.

I swear I just felt West step onto the patio. I turn my head, and sure enough, West is approaching to take his seat next to Zach at our table. After a polite smile and hello, I can’t shake the image of him naked and hovering above me, the perfect mix of alpha and sweetness. But I have to forget about that.

“So your dad told me you’re close to a big settlement.” Foster’s voice snaps me back to reality.

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