“If he didn’t have Taylor, he’d be begging to be your maid of honor.”
Heather barked out a laugh. “He would. He’d be stabbing you in the back, trying to get that position from you.”
“He could have it. I hate weddings.”
I cringed, realizing what I’d just said. The words slipped out before I knew I was even going to say them.
Heather paused mid-fold. “Are you serious?”
I looked around, making sure no one else had heard my flub. Then I shrugged, leaning forward. “Maybe.”
“This is the wrong summer for you to be saying that. You know that, right?”
I nodded. “I’m not proclaiming it or anything.”
“Becky got engaged. Channing’s been bringing it up more and more with me, and your mom is actually getting married very soon.”
“I’m aware. It’s all around me.”
She lowered her voice. “Has Mason mentioned the M-word to you?”
I shook my head, feeling some relief. “No. I think it’s just overkill. That’s all.”
“Bullshit.” Heather continued to watch me steadily. She wasn’t giving me any room to breathe. “The whole wedding thing is usually contagious for girls. If you’re around it, you suddenly want to do it, too.” She studied me. “You look ready to bolt just having this conversation. You really hate weddings, or you hate your own wedding?”
I hated this conversation. “I’m not engaged, so this is a conversation I don’t need to bother with.”
“But he will ask you.”
My heart jumped to my throat. “You know something I should know?”
She shook her head. “No, but it’s Mason. He loves you—like, really loves you. He’s going to want a ring on your finger.”
I knew that, but the thought of marriage sent ice through my veins.
“I’ll deal with it,” I told her.
The look in her eye said bullshit.
“It’s not a big deal.”
She snorted. Again. “You need to talk to Mason about that. For real, Sam. It’s a big deal. It’s on the same level as when a partner doesn’t want to have kids and the other does. It’s a deal breaker.”
She wasn’t helping. I felt a headache forming. “I know. I’ll talk to him.”
“Promise?”
I nodded.
“No, you have to say the word. I know you, and you’ll try to get out of it somehow. Promise me, Sam.”
I didn’t understand the problem. Mason never brought up marriage or weddings. We hadn’t talked about it, and he came from the same background as me. He’d understand. Right? But I remembered the fear I felt when I first realized how much I didn’t want marriage.
I didn’t want to promise, but Heather was waiting, watching me like a hawk. “I’ll talk to him,” I heard myself say.
She let out a sigh of relief. “Good.” She squeezed my hand. “It’ll be fine. I know it. That guy worships the ground you walk on. There’s nothing he wouldn’t deal with for you.”
Yeah…I hoped so.
Heather went back to reading the questions and groaned. “Honestly? ‘What’s your idea of a perfect weekend?’ Please. Hers is probably when there’s a slight breeze in the air, walks on the beach, and cuddling in front of the fireplace. His is probably a blow job to wake up, a blow job at lunch, a backdoor rally in the afternoon, and a good scotch after dinner.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand when couples like them get married.”
I laughed, wondering just how far off her answers were from Becky and Adam’s truth.
Then Becky walked in with Adam right behind her. They were holding hands and smiling, but the terror in her eyes and forced lines around his mouth were what caught my attention.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Heather said. “Since when does the groom come to these things? This completely blows all of my white trash stereotypes about what rich folks do.”
Malinda went over to greet them. As Adam hugged her, Becky glanced at me, and I stood.
“Something’s not right,” I told Heather.
“What?”
I was across the room before Malinda had finished gushing over the couple. She had an arm around Becky’s waist and beamed at me.
“One of these days, this will be you and Mason, Sam. I can’t wait.”
“Yeah.” My cheeks were hurting, my smile was so forced. I reached for Becky’s hand. “Can I have a minute?”
An emotion flickered in Malinda’s eyes, and she glanced down. I know she saw how tightly Becky held onto my hand, but she continued to exude warmth. She turned, pulling Adam over to where Cass and some other girls were helping put up the decorations. “Come on, Adam. I need your opinion about where we should put the cake.”
Becky overheard. “There’s a cake?”
I pulled her past everyone, motioning for Heather to follow, and tugged her downstairs.
We found Mark on the couch playing video games.
“Hey, wha—” he started to say, but I cut him off.
“Get out. This is girl time.”
He paused his game. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“Logan’s determined to create a new drink. Go over and be his guinea pig.”
He groaned, but turned the game off. “I’m going to get wasted off my ass, aren’t I?”
Heather patted him on the back as he moved past us, going upstairs. “Just have fun doing it. That’s the trick.”
He muttered something under his breath, but then the door shut behind him.
Becky bit her lip, hugging herself. She eyed Heather.
“Heather’s fine.”
“She’s your friend, not mine,” Becky said.
Heather snorted, sitting where Mark had just left. “If you want to start a fight, keep reminding me of that.”
“Heather’s loyal to me, and as long as I’m loyal to you, so is she.”
Becky continued to stare at Heather, doubt evident in her gaze. Then she turned to me. “You pulled me down here. What’s going on?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“I know. What’s up?”
“No.” I shook my head, sitting on the couch next to Heather. “With you and Adam. What’s going on?”
Becky seemed to shrink as she sat on the couch across from us. “You noticed that, huh?” She rubbed her hands together, sticking them between her knees. “I thought I’d perfected the plastic look.”
Heather laughed. “The fact that I know exactly what you mean makes me think Sam’s not all that crazy for liking you again.”
Becky looked up, warily, and shrugged. “Plastic and shiny. It’s the fake look we rich people offer, isn’t it?”
Heather lifted a shoulder. “It’s the equivalent to the tough, I-don’t-give-a-fuck look we not-rich people have.”
A cloud came over Becky’s features. “Adam might not be able to go to law school. We might have to stay here after we graduate. He’s going to have to take over his dad’s business.”
This.
This was the moment—I could feel it—what Mason had been searching for since James had sicced him on Adam. I tried to quell my adrenaline.
I leaned forward, keeping my voice casual and steady, “What do you mean?”
Heather sent me a look.
Becky shook her head. “It’s so messed up. I don’t even know what to say.” She looked at the ceiling. “It’s nothing Adam’s done. It’s what’s being done to him. His dad’s fucked up in a major way.”
Heather leaned forward slowly. She softened her voice. “What’s he doing?”
“He’s breaking the law.”
“How?”
“He broke down and told Adam this morning. It’s all complicated, but from what I understood, when he has to get permits to develop land somewhere, he bribes whoever gives him the permits. He found a copy of the emails on a computer somewhere. He doesn’t know who made the copy, but he knows it’s out there and everything could blow up in our faces. He’d go to jail.”
Heather barked out a laugh. “He would. He’d be stabbing you in the back, trying to get that position from you.”
“He could have it. I hate weddings.”
I cringed, realizing what I’d just said. The words slipped out before I knew I was even going to say them.
Heather paused mid-fold. “Are you serious?”
I looked around, making sure no one else had heard my flub. Then I shrugged, leaning forward. “Maybe.”
“This is the wrong summer for you to be saying that. You know that, right?”
I nodded. “I’m not proclaiming it or anything.”
“Becky got engaged. Channing’s been bringing it up more and more with me, and your mom is actually getting married very soon.”
“I’m aware. It’s all around me.”
She lowered her voice. “Has Mason mentioned the M-word to you?”
I shook my head, feeling some relief. “No. I think it’s just overkill. That’s all.”
“Bullshit.” Heather continued to watch me steadily. She wasn’t giving me any room to breathe. “The whole wedding thing is usually contagious for girls. If you’re around it, you suddenly want to do it, too.” She studied me. “You look ready to bolt just having this conversation. You really hate weddings, or you hate your own wedding?”
I hated this conversation. “I’m not engaged, so this is a conversation I don’t need to bother with.”
“But he will ask you.”
My heart jumped to my throat. “You know something I should know?”
She shook her head. “No, but it’s Mason. He loves you—like, really loves you. He’s going to want a ring on your finger.”
I knew that, but the thought of marriage sent ice through my veins.
“I’ll deal with it,” I told her.
The look in her eye said bullshit.
“It’s not a big deal.”
She snorted. Again. “You need to talk to Mason about that. For real, Sam. It’s a big deal. It’s on the same level as when a partner doesn’t want to have kids and the other does. It’s a deal breaker.”
She wasn’t helping. I felt a headache forming. “I know. I’ll talk to him.”
“Promise?”
I nodded.
“No, you have to say the word. I know you, and you’ll try to get out of it somehow. Promise me, Sam.”
I didn’t understand the problem. Mason never brought up marriage or weddings. We hadn’t talked about it, and he came from the same background as me. He’d understand. Right? But I remembered the fear I felt when I first realized how much I didn’t want marriage.
I didn’t want to promise, but Heather was waiting, watching me like a hawk. “I’ll talk to him,” I heard myself say.
She let out a sigh of relief. “Good.” She squeezed my hand. “It’ll be fine. I know it. That guy worships the ground you walk on. There’s nothing he wouldn’t deal with for you.”
Yeah…I hoped so.
Heather went back to reading the questions and groaned. “Honestly? ‘What’s your idea of a perfect weekend?’ Please. Hers is probably when there’s a slight breeze in the air, walks on the beach, and cuddling in front of the fireplace. His is probably a blow job to wake up, a blow job at lunch, a backdoor rally in the afternoon, and a good scotch after dinner.” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t stand when couples like them get married.”
I laughed, wondering just how far off her answers were from Becky and Adam’s truth.
Then Becky walked in with Adam right behind her. They were holding hands and smiling, but the terror in her eyes and forced lines around his mouth were what caught my attention.
“Wait, wait, wait,” Heather said. “Since when does the groom come to these things? This completely blows all of my white trash stereotypes about what rich folks do.”
Malinda went over to greet them. As Adam hugged her, Becky glanced at me, and I stood.
“Something’s not right,” I told Heather.
“What?”
I was across the room before Malinda had finished gushing over the couple. She had an arm around Becky’s waist and beamed at me.
“One of these days, this will be you and Mason, Sam. I can’t wait.”
“Yeah.” My cheeks were hurting, my smile was so forced. I reached for Becky’s hand. “Can I have a minute?”
An emotion flickered in Malinda’s eyes, and she glanced down. I know she saw how tightly Becky held onto my hand, but she continued to exude warmth. She turned, pulling Adam over to where Cass and some other girls were helping put up the decorations. “Come on, Adam. I need your opinion about where we should put the cake.”
Becky overheard. “There’s a cake?”
I pulled her past everyone, motioning for Heather to follow, and tugged her downstairs.
We found Mark on the couch playing video games.
“Hey, wha—” he started to say, but I cut him off.
“Get out. This is girl time.”
He paused his game. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“Logan’s determined to create a new drink. Go over and be his guinea pig.”
He groaned, but turned the game off. “I’m going to get wasted off my ass, aren’t I?”
Heather patted him on the back as he moved past us, going upstairs. “Just have fun doing it. That’s the trick.”
He muttered something under his breath, but then the door shut behind him.
Becky bit her lip, hugging herself. She eyed Heather.
“Heather’s fine.”
“She’s your friend, not mine,” Becky said.
Heather snorted, sitting where Mark had just left. “If you want to start a fight, keep reminding me of that.”
“Heather’s loyal to me, and as long as I’m loyal to you, so is she.”
Becky continued to stare at Heather, doubt evident in her gaze. Then she turned to me. “You pulled me down here. What’s going on?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“I know. What’s up?”
“No.” I shook my head, sitting on the couch next to Heather. “With you and Adam. What’s going on?”
Becky seemed to shrink as she sat on the couch across from us. “You noticed that, huh?” She rubbed her hands together, sticking them between her knees. “I thought I’d perfected the plastic look.”
Heather laughed. “The fact that I know exactly what you mean makes me think Sam’s not all that crazy for liking you again.”
Becky looked up, warily, and shrugged. “Plastic and shiny. It’s the fake look we rich people offer, isn’t it?”
Heather lifted a shoulder. “It’s the equivalent to the tough, I-don’t-give-a-fuck look we not-rich people have.”
A cloud came over Becky’s features. “Adam might not be able to go to law school. We might have to stay here after we graduate. He’s going to have to take over his dad’s business.”
This.
This was the moment—I could feel it—what Mason had been searching for since James had sicced him on Adam. I tried to quell my adrenaline.
I leaned forward, keeping my voice casual and steady, “What do you mean?”
Heather sent me a look.
Becky shook her head. “It’s so messed up. I don’t even know what to say.” She looked at the ceiling. “It’s nothing Adam’s done. It’s what’s being done to him. His dad’s fucked up in a major way.”
Heather leaned forward slowly. She softened her voice. “What’s he doing?”
“He’s breaking the law.”
“How?”
“He broke down and told Adam this morning. It’s all complicated, but from what I understood, when he has to get permits to develop land somewhere, he bribes whoever gives him the permits. He found a copy of the emails on a computer somewhere. He doesn’t know who made the copy, but he knows it’s out there and everything could blow up in our faces. He’d go to jail.”
