Page 94 of Love is a Game

I let Jess handle the logistics and turn my attention to the guest list—including reaching out to Mason’s mom, Virginia. She’s always been a little standoffish, and honestly, I’m relieved when she politely declines the spa portion, citing her “sensitive skin”, but agrees to join us later for cocktails on the bar deck.

Susan was touchingly excited when I invited her, and agreed to duck out of school early to attend. Nora, unsurprisingly, is fully on board. Misha is out—she’s already on her way back to LA.

So, along with the obvious inclusions: Mia, Jess, Violet, and Vivian, that just leaves Mia’s mom, who, according to Jess, hopped a private jet to get here. I’ll try extra hard not to judge her for the frivolous carbon emissions.

And happily, it seems Tuck has forgiven me for stirring up Mia’s wrath. Our interlude last night proved that. And today, he volunteered to chauffeur Susan, Vivian, and me to the spa.

His laser focus on the road keeps my backseat driving to a minimum. Meanwhile, Vivian spends most of the ride glued to her phone, triple-checking that Brady, the suppliers, and the restaurant manager can survive without her.

“I can still be there for service, if you need,” she offers for the third time.

Then, after a pause, she lets out a hearty laugh, finally relaxing. “Fine.” She sighs, flashing a playful look. “I’ll say it—Brady is supremely capable. I should stop stressing and have fun. I deserve it.”

A flush creeps up her neck as she presses the phone to her ear. “No, Brady, I’m with Susan, Pen, and Tuck. I’m so not saying that out loud.”

They evidently progress from Brady’s X-rated talk, and she pulls the phone aside with an eye roll. “Brady wants to know why you’re tagging along on a bachelorette trip, Tuck. And what color you’re getting your nails done?”

Tuck barely glances over. “Remind Brady he has some chicken to brine, or something, will ya?”

But when we pull up to the spa, it’s evident Tuck is set on a total avoidance strategy. He makes a quick getaway, clearly eager to stay off Mia’s radar.

Then, in synchronized precision, two sleek black SUVs roll up outside. Mia’s security detail steps out first, scanning the area before the doors open and the rest of our group spills out.

Mia emerges first, draped in head-to-toe black, dark glasses shielding her expression. Behind her, Nora has aced the resort-wear dress code in a flowing cream-and-white caftan. Violet looks polished as ever, in tailored striped trousers and a rose-pink blouse, while Jess practically radiates sunshine, in lemon-yellow shorts and a white camisole.

Then comes a cascade of auburn waves and a flash of blood-red lipstick, accompanied by rich laughter that has the security boys lowering their sunglasses for a better look.

She strides in, statuesque and unapologetically glamorous, her snake-print bodysuit clinging to curves that defy gravity, the sheer wrap skirt doing little to conceal the full hourglass of her hips. Effortless confidence. The kind of beauty that turns heads and keeps them there.

This can only be—

“Hi, y’all! I’m Mia’s Mom!” she strides into the lounge, her husky Boston accent filling the space like a jazz singer stepping up to the mic. She flashes a megawatt smile, her manicured fingers splayed wide in greeting. “Raquel Madson. Are we gonna have a frikkin’ ball today, or what, ladies?”

“Maybe bring it down to just shy of shattering glass, huh, Mom?” Mia sighs. “And what did I say about no drugs?”

“That little thing in the car?” Raquel waves a dismissive hand. “Baby, a teeny tiny joint to take the edge off, is hardlydoing drugs.”

“Mom, you basicallyhotboxedus the entire drive!”

“Geez Louise, lighten up!” Raquel scoffs. “Nora didn’t mind, did you, Nora? And no offense, Violet, honey, but it’s gonna take more than a puff of indica to get you to loosen up.”

Violet offers a tight smile. “Maybe after I pull off the biggest celebrity wedding of the year, I’ll consider working on that.”

“Should we get started with the treatments?” I suggest, eyeing the spa staff, who seem momentarily entranced—either by Mia’s undeniable star power, or Raquel’s sheer force of personality.

“Of course!” The strawberry-blonde attendant steps forward, clasping her hands together with enthusiasm. “Welcome, Ladies! I’m Kelly. I’m your guide for this truly restorative experience. Your immersive treatment is inspired by ancient Korean spa traditions, designed to release tension, detoxify the body, and leave you feeling completely renewed.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be the benchmark for that,” Violet quips, casting a thinly veiled look in Raquel’s direction.

Raquel, unbothered, lets out a throaty laugh. “That’s right! If you can pry Violet’s shoulders down from her ears and melt that subzero facade, you’ll be miracle workers.”

Violet lifts her gaze to the ornate ceiling, as if instantly regretting every decision that led her here.

I feel a stab of unease. Why the hell did I put myself—someone fundamentally lacking the gene for effortless female friendships—in charge of pulling off a successful bachelorette event? This might crash and burn worse than Tuck’s event. And that was almost a fatal disaster.

Kelly smooths her linen uniform and offers a serene smile. “These treatments are rooted in centuries-old Eastern wellness traditions. The combination of mineral saunas, herbal therapies, and hydrotherapy pools helps improve circulation, relieve muscle tension, and promote full-body relaxation. You’ll move between steamy saunas infused with healing herbs, crystals, and clay; followed by the rejuvenating contrast of hot and cold baths.”

“Love it!” Mia flashes me an approving smile.

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