Page 63 of Bridesmaid to Bride

“Here’s hoping.” I cross my fingers. I don’t love talking about work, but tonight I’ve got a role to play—the dutiful daughter, the successful lawyer, the woman who has her shit together. The woman who’d make a great business partner and wife.

“Absolutely.” Foster nods, eyes bright.

The clinking of a glass interrupts us, and I swivel toward the front, where my sister stands, champagne flute held high. She clears her throat, and the patio hushes. Every pair of eyes locks onto her.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining us on this amazing adventure. We’re so glad you could make it, especially those who have traveled great distances to be here. Okay, so...” her voice wavers, “I’m not usually the mushy one—but here goes nothing. Despite our occasional sibling rivalry,” her gaze lands on me, “I scored the jackpot in the twin department.” My throat tightens, and I refuse to cry two lines into her speech. “Eva orchestrated this whole shindig, making it more beautiful than I ever dreamed. She’s my rock, the person who I can count on, no matter what.”

A tear escapes, traitorous and warm down my cheek.

Paige nods, her eyes shiny. “And Dad—thank you for always being an example of how to go after my dreams and do what it takes to achieve them, supporting me the whole way. And although we wish Mom could be here, I know she’s here in spirit. I love you, Dad and Sis.”

“I love you too,” I mouth back, and Dad nods, his eyes misty.

The crowd collectively sighs. I blink rapidly, trying to keep the dam from breaking.

“Thank you, everyone.” Paige lowers her glass, and I flash her a look, mouthing, “Zach” to her.

“Oh, God, sorry!” She covers her mouth. “And a toast to my fiancé, Zach.” She turns to him, her face red. “You’re my real-life Flynn Rider. Our story could be a Rapunzel retelling—well, the X-rated version minus the tower—if you know what I mean.” She barks out a laugh.

Awkward chuckles proceed, and someone yells, “TMI!”

Then real laughter bubbles up, breaking the emotional tension.

“Anyway, cheers to love, family, and my badass sister!” Paige lifts her glass higher.

“Cheers!” The word echoes around us, and everyone is all smiles.

As the applause dies, Foster leans in, his strong cologne like leather and cedar. “Touching speech, huh?”

“Definitely.” I dab my eyes with the edge of a napkin.

“So,” he says, a little too eagerly, “we never finished discussing your big settlement.”

“Well, it was riveting,” I joke. “I basically talked so much I wore them down. The old filibustering tactic.”

“Right! So last year, I had a client who—”

“Excuse me, Eva.” I turn to see Aunt Myrna standing there. “Do you know if they are using the same pan to fry my food as the ones that have shellfish? Because I can’t even have the smallest amount.”

I use the moment to stand. “Yes, Aunt Myrna. They know that your meal has to be cooked separately. I just spoke with the head chef about it a half hour ago.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

“No problem. It’s good to see you.” I wrap my arms around her, and she gives me a pat.

“You too, dear.” Then she pulls away and shuffles back to her seat.

I can feel the warmth of the setting sun on my skin, but I turn all my focus on the man beside me. Foster’s got this way of making law talk sound exciting. And tonight, I’m determined to figure out if he could fit into the intricate puzzle of my family’s life. Of my life.

“Paige looks happy,” he says, and there’s something in his voice. Possibly a note that suggests he gets it? The weight of love, the gravity of commitment.

“Yes, she does.”

We fall into an easy silence, the kind where you don’t need words because the background chatter fills it up just fine. Giving Foster my undivided attention is working like a charm, and I just have to keep at it. I turn to face him fully. “Tell me what you’d do if you took over Steinberg Law.”

And just like that, I’m locked in and focused.

“Well, first off, we may need to change the name to Steinberg & Easel Law.” He chuckles.

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