Page 77 of Lucky Star

“You made me promise to say something the next time you decided to do something that could jeopardize your relationship. You guys just put things to rights, and I don’t want you springing something like this on her. I know being decisive is your thing and all, but if you don’t do this right, she might take a page out of your old playbook and head for the hills.”

I wasn’t going to let on that I had the same fear. And maybe that’s why I was rushing things, but when I considered the coming weeks, months, and years, I didn’t realistically see a wedding fitting into my schedule. Between initial shoots, promotion, re-shoots, publicity, the premier, and then going directly into shooting for the second movie, I didn’t see where we’d find the time to get married. Sure, we could march our asses down to the courthouse and get hitched that way, but I didn’t want to do anything that resembled trying to marry her on the sly. After what I’d already put Sarah through, I wanted to stand proudly in front of our friends and family and commit myself to her. Running off to the courthouse in between my scenes felt a bit too much like trying to hide for my tastes.

“I’m not stupid,” I told him. “I know she’s going to be shocked, but I’m hoping it’ll be the good kind of surprise. She was leery when I first proposed, but once she knew I wasn’t fucking around, she was fully on board. I expect the same will happen with this.”

“And you really think you can pull it off?”

“You get the gang up here, and I promise it’ll be a wedding you’ll never forget.”

He fell quiet for a few beats, and I heard him flipping through his calendar. “New Year’s Eve?” he asked, clarifying my timeline.

“Yup.”

“Hmm,” he mused. “Yeah, I’ll make it happen on this end. I have to move some things around, but I’ll definitely be there. I’m pretty sure I can get a few others on board, but there might be some difficulty with Charlie and James since they’re heading to Vegas.”

“Whoever you can wrangle, I’d appreciate. And if this messes up some hot date you had lined up for New Year’s Eve, feel free to bring her along as well.”

“Is Carly coming?”

“A herd of wild elephants couldn’t keep her away.”

After a brief pause, he said, “I think I’ll come solo then. Hannah will be pissed, but she’ll find someone else easily enough.”

I didn’t comment on the fact that him bringing a date seemed to hinge on whether Sarah’s friend Carly was attending or not. Sarah and I were pretty sure they’d hooked up at least once, maybe twice, and we were waiting for them to come clean about it. So far Carly had adamantly denied she’d had sex with Mike, and for his part, my best friend had had remained completely mum on the subject. That alone told me something was up between them.

Carly was exactly the type of woman he was secretly into—so far removed from the silicone-enhanced blondes he normally dated—but not once had he asked me to put in a good word with her. Neither had he ever joked about how he’d like to tap that ass. I didn’t want to jinx anything, but it was almost like he respected her, and that was pretty fucking major because Mike, as much as I loved him, was a dog.

“Thanks man. I knew I could count on you.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Mike kept a running tally of all the times he’d saved my ass over the years, and vice versa. It was a weird quirk that had started when we were just kids and he’d wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t a charity case. Not that my family was rich or anything, but his was downright poor, and he’d carried a chip on his shoulder his whole life because of it.

He’d first started the list in seventh grade when he’d distracted the teacher so that I could sneak into class, having missed the bell because I’d been kissing Susie Winters behind the backstop. “That’s for last night’s dinner,” he’d whispered, sitting down at his desk a few minutes later.

And so it had gone for the rest of our lives.

If he managed to help me pull this off now, I’d make sure he never felt like he owed me anything else ever again.

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