Page 10 of Without a Hitch
The bartender places a glass of water in front of me, so I remove my earbuds. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” He winks. He’s a shameless flirt and has the dimples to get away with it. He might be a perfect person to interview for my next post.
I’m about to ask him when my thoughts are interrupted by a screeching banshee to my left. “You’re telling menowthat my boyfriend can’t come to your wedding? It’s tomorrow, Jenna. To-mor-row! He’s already here. What am I supposed to tell him?”
“O-liv-ia!” someone else says dramatically. “If you’d told us who your boyfriend was months ago, Jenna would have told you then. But you didn’t because you obviously knew it would be an issue.”
Angling myself on the barstool so I can spy on the action, I try really hard not to make it obvious that I’m watching the show, but they’re so close I could easily pass for a member of their party. I think Olivia is the one with her back to me, but there are four women huddled together facing her.
“It isn’t my fault he didn’t want you, Melinda,” the maybe-Olivia hisses.
Ouch. Olivia’s bite is as ruthless as her bark.
“Do you even hear yourself?” another woman, presumably another bridesmaid, chimes in. “You slept with Melinda’s fiancé, and now you think it’s okay for him to attend her sister’s wedding? You can’t be that dense.”
Oooh, the drama! Where’s the popcorn when you need it?
The maybe-Olivia stands with a drink in her hand, and in slow motion, I see what she’s about to do. Without thinking, I reach up just in time to stop her forward motion and remove the drink from her hand. I’m pretty sure it was headed toward the bride-to-be.
“You probably don’t want to do that. Olivia, is it? If the wedding is happening in this hotel, one or both of the betrothed have money. This can only end badly for you.”
“Who are you?” She scowls as the bridal party watches, some in shock and some with bemused expressions that would concern me if I thought I’d ever see them again.
“I’m just a friend watching out for everyone’s best interests. I work in PR, and I can promise you, this would be a disaster of epic proportions. My advice? Fulfill your duties to the bride, then skip out on the reception if youmustbe with your boyfriend. But”—I lean in conspiratorially—“in my experience, once a cheater, always a cheater, so make this decision carefully.”
They all stare at me, wide-eyed and shell-shocked. I covertly check my wine glass.How many have I had? Am I drunk?I try really hard not to get involved in other people’s drama without their permission! Most of the time. Ugh!What have I done?But of course, I know that answer. I’m a sucker for brides, weddings, and all things happily ever after.
Because your biggest, deepest wish is to be loved for who you are. Scars and all.My sister’s voice rings in my head. Unfortunately, it may sound like her, but it’s my fear of never being enough that has the words lancing my heart.
Olivia steps away from the bar. “Fine. I’ll see you all tomorrow, but don’t expect me to be happy about it.” She glares at me, then back at the group. “And I wouldn’t be caught dead at the reception anyway.”
As soon as she’s out of sight, the maybe-bride closes in on me, her eyes unblinking, and she doesn’t speak right away. She watches me with an intensity that has my cheeks heating.
“Ah, are you the bride?” I’m suddenly nervous that Bridezilla will show her teeth because I definitely overstepped. I grab my wineglass for liquid courage and take a giant gulp.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I am.” She nods emphatically, but a huge grin appears on her face. “I’m Jenna. You just handled my stepsister in a way I never could. How did you do it? And more importantly, will you do it again?”
“Ah, sorry.” I giggle nervously. “I’m not in the habit of interrupting sibling rivalries. Plus, I doubt she’s coming back tonight. She was pretty pissed.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Her eyes plead with the girl on her right. The two of them have a silent conversation I recognize can only happen between sisters. Their expressions go through a myriad of feelings, then they turn on me with so much excitement I fear they’ll explode. “I want to hire you for the rest of the weekend.”
I laugh nervously and place my wineglass on the bar. I’m going to need both hands to hold me up for this. “Hire me for what, exactly?”
“Whatever you want to call it, but I need a bridesmaid babysitter. I’ll pay ten thousand dollars for you to be in my wedding, all expenses paid, and all you have to do is attend the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night and the wedding on Saturday. I’ll literally pay you to keep Olivia in check.”
I gape at Jenna. Surely, she’s joking, but as I stare at the bride's hopeful smile and kind eyes, I know she’s one hundred percent serious.
“I’ll pay you in cash if that helps.”
“Jenna, you don’t even know me. Why on Earth would you want me in your wedding?”
“Because Olivia is a bitch who has ruined every good thing I’ve had in my life since my father married her mother when I was six years old. I can’t let her ruin my wedding too.” Her lip quivers, and my arguments fade.
Lifting both hands, I rub small circles around the migraine that’s trying to form in my temples. I sneak a glance at their table, expecting it to be littered with champagne bottles, but it’s not. It’s empty.
“Have you been drinking?” There must be a reasonable explanation for her outrageous offer.
