Page 40 of Married With Lies

In between all the sniveling and the howling and the demand for some unseen party on the other end to refill her wine glass, Hadley reveals that her intended maid of honor has bailed on her wedding duties. Something about an argument over a bikini while on a yacht in the Caribbean.

“She KNEW I’d just shared that photo to my Instabook page and I’ve worked so hard to build my audience and then ten minutes later she posts her own photo.”

“I see. And she was wearing the same swimsuit?”

“Yes, well it was almost the same except it was blue instead of black and hers tied in the front. But she even paired it with a wide-brimmed beach hat that came from exactly the same collection as mine and she also used two of my hashtags. When I called her out she didn’t even apologize. She just said my lip fillers were crooked and excessive.”

This is so stupid my head is starting to hurt but I simply made a vague noise of sympathy that sounds like, “Mmmm.”

Hadley spends the next ten minutes ranting about the cardinal sins committed by ex-maid-of-honor Kylie and then she gets to the point of her call, which isn’t just to cry on my shoulder. “So you’ll do it.”

That didn’t sound like a question. “Do what?”

“Be my maid of honor. You have to. There’s no one else I can ask on such short notice. The wedding is in six weeks.”

I hadn’t planned on attending Hadley’s latest wedding. I figured the fact that I haven’t even received an invitation yet would give me an excuse.

“What do you mean you don’t have anyone else to ask? You have a million friends.”

“Of course, but you’re my sister. And you’d never steal my hashtags, would you? Listen, I have no idea what size you are so I’m sending you the link for the dress. You have plenty of time to get it properly altered. The color is peach, which I know doesn’t really match your look but that can’t be helped at this point unless you’re going to dye your hair. I’ve always known you would look far less unhealthy and washed out as a blonde.”

I try to picture myself as a blonde maid of honor in a peach dress. I fail.

“Hadley, I don’t think-”

But she just keeps trucking right ahead. “Oh, you don’t have to if you’re going to be a baby about it. We’ll just hide your hair in a tight French twist. Completely doable.”

She’s not going to take no for an answer with grace. But that’s too bad because there’s no way I’m agreeing to her demands.

Then she utters a word I have never once heard from my sister and must have pained her to part with.

“Please,” she says, rather meekly.

I should say no. I have every right to say no. The word ‘NO’ is right on the tip of my tongue, begging to be unleashed.

“All right,” I sigh. “Count me in.”

Once Hadley receives the answer she wanted, she no longer has any use for the conversation. She reminds me to order the dress and warns that I’ll need to keep an eye on the delivery truck so the locals don’t steal the dress when it arrives. She ends the call without saying goodbye.

I would describe my mood as shellshocked as I change into a flannel nightshirt and finger comb my wet hair. If I had any guts I’d call her right back and say I couldn’t make it to the wedding after all because I forgot I had plans to shovel rocks that weekend.

Then again, standing up as Hadley’s maid of honor might be a key to solving the current cold war between me and my family. I don’t expect us to be close. But it would be nice if my father looked my way with something other than profound disappointment. And I wouldn’t mind receiving a phone call now and then from my brother.

I’ll give it some thought. At the moment the only thing I can think about is the need for sleep. Zeus and Apollo have relocated to their cushy dog beds on the floor so I’ve got the whole king-sized mattress to myself.

“Sweet dreams, boys.” I yawn as I switch off the bedside lamp and turn on my sound machine.

Now that I’m cozily snuggled into my bed and surrounded by darkness I finally understand just what I’ve gotten myself into.

There’s more than a family wedding waiting for me in New York. I happen to have a husband there too. I assume I’ll be expected to bring him to the wedding. It would be odd if I didn’t. My family thinks I’m married. I’ll have to act married, husband and all.

My last troubled thought before I drift off to sleep is that if I have to see Cale Connelly in the near future (and it seems I do) at least the event will take place over a thousand miles away in his world.

Not here in mine.

That prospect might actually keep me up at night.

11

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