Page 133 of Champagne Fizz

Her eyes snap to me, and there’s a waiver of understanding in her gaze, followed by a flicker of hesitation. She doesn’t want to trust me.

“Simon, that’s very nice, but—”

“I’m invested in this wedding too,” I interrupt. “Not only that it’s beautiful and can be in a magazine, but that it’s beautiful and heartfelt for Olivia and Ned. They’re my friends. And the least I can do is walk back into that bar and make sure Connor isn’t a complete dipshit to his brother. Go home and sleep, Kendall. I’ll text you when Ned gets to his suite tonight. You don’t need to wait here and babysit.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course,” I affirm, “and it’s much less suspicious than you lurking out here like you’re going to mug someone.”

“You know why I’m out here.”

“Yes,” I agree, “but they don’t.”

Kendall crosses her arms again, her defenses flaring.

“Do you have a picture of what Ned’s mom looks like? Or a description?” I ask. “I’ll make sure he gets to his room without her seeing him.”

“She’s in room 3035, and Ned’s in 3037,” Kendall explains. “Mrs. Voss is in her sixties, brown hair, looks like Nurse Ratchet from that movie, only wearing diamonds and brand names instead of scrubs. It was so stupid to book her at The Atlantis. It seemed like an easy choice, but now I wish I’d booked her a beach house on the far side of the island where nobody knew where she was.”

Tension starts to knot her arms and shoulders again.

“Actually, I might have a solution for that,” I offer. “Esme’s friend Naomi has a beach house on the north side of the island near Laie. It’s her parent’s house, but they never use it. I bet it’s empty and we could put Mrs. Voss there.”

“Really?” Kendall perks up. “Is it a nice place? Mrs. Voss is very particular. If the China isn’t sparkling with the spit of indentured children, she’ll probably throw a fit.”

“It’s gorgeous, modern, spotless—with an amazing view. Naomi’s family must come from money because the location is incredible. Do you think you could convince Mrs. Voss to change accommodations? If so, I’ll set everything up with Naomi.”

“If I pitched it as her own ocean-side oasis, I could probably get her to consider it.”

“You could also throw in the bonus that Naomi and Esme are masseuses,” I add. “Tell her personal spa treatments are included to sweeten the deal and keep her occupied.”

“That would be incredible!”

“Consider it done.”

Kendall looks at me like I really am Superman, and if everything weren’t so messed up between us, I’d lean over and kiss her. Every cell of my body knows I want to.

Kendall’s eyes flick to my mouth, and that desire she can’t hide is plain on her face. If she was anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate. But I can’t touch Kendall.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asks, biting her lip unconsciously.

I toss her a smile. “Because I’m crazy about you, Kendall,” I say honestly. “I know I can’t touch you, and I know I messed it all up, and you definitely deserve better. But I still want this wedding to turn out well. I still want you to believe you’re amazing—at wedding planning, or at just being you. So if you ask, I’m going to help. It’s as simple as that.”

“Nothing is as simple as that,” she says cautiously.

“This is,” I say, standing up and walking toward the bar entrance. “Get some sleep. I’ll text you when Ned’s home, and I’ll set up Naomi’s beach house tomorrow.”

“You’re too nice,” she says.

“Nah,” I say, shrugging off her comment. “If I was the nice guy, you and I would still have a chance.”

I walk into the bar before I see her reaction to that, because I know her expression will confirm it. Instead, I let the blaring music and the chants to “Drink! Drink! Drink!” overwhelm me, because the truth is I’ll never be able to regain the trust I broke with Kendall, and she deserves someone a thousand times more patient than I am. I may have the Clark Kent glasses, but I have no delusions of being Superman.

37

KENDALL

Ishow up on Flambé’s doorstep at eight am to set up the reception.

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