Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Delicious, right?” Betsy says.
“It is good.”
“Let’s get you one.”
“I don’t know…”
“I understand. Never mind.” Betsy jingles the ice in her glass. “Maybe you’ll feel more comfortable when we toast Skye.”
She’s right. We have to toast Skye soon, and as the maid of honor, I’ll be leading it.
Old Tessa would’ve written everything out, had a lot to say, including a little bit of a roast, talking about all the trouble Skye used to get into in college—which was none because she was always a control freak. Old Tessa would have been jovial and jolly and would have had all the women laughing and crying and nearly peeing themselves.
“You know what, Bets? I’ll try the Skye.”
“If you’re sure.”
I nod, and a moment later, Betsy brings me a Skye cocktail.
It is a beautiful shade of light blue, much like the blue sky above me—which I guess is the point.
“What’s everyone else drinking?” I ask.
“Kathy’s drinking bourbon shots.” Betsy looks over at Kathy, who’s sitting next to Daniela, several empty shot glasses in front of her. “That girl can hold her alcohol. And Daniela is drinking Skyes.”
“What about champagne?” I ask. “Shouldn’t there be champagne for a toast?”
Betsy laughs. “I have no idea. You planned this, Tess. Did you plan for champagne?”
Warmth slides into my cheeks. I’m sure I’m growing red. I didn’t plan any of this. Ben did. Surely he’d think of champagne.
Wouldn’t he?
I take a sip of the drink and look over at the bar. Terry motions to me. “Excuse me,” I say to Betsy.
I walk over to Terry. “Yeah?”
“Are you ready for me to pour the Dom Perignon for the toast?”
Okay. Ben did think of champagne. Or the resort event planner did. Whoever it was, I say a silent thank you to them.
That means I need to think of something to say.
“Or you could do the toast after dinner,” he says.
Yes! Saved by dinner. “After dinner, I think. Thanks, Terry.”
“Not a problem.” He eyes my drink. “I see you decided to try the cocktail after all.”
“Yeah.” I force out a laugh. “I mean, it’s a party, right?”
“It sure is.” He turns to Daniela, who’s ordering another drink and acting pretty giggly.
I sigh. I’m filing that under the heading of not my problem. What can I do? Daniela is over twenty-one, and it’s an open bar. It’s not like anyone has to drive anywhere.
I look toward the beach, and I’m surprised to see Skye there, holding a cocktail. She looks lovely in bright pink.
I approach her. “Doing okay?”
She smiles at me. “I should be asking you that.”
“Skye, come on. We’ve had this discussion. This weekend isn’t about me. It’s about you and Braden. We’re going to give you a great sendoff.”
“This party is gorgeous,” she says. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Guilt gnaws at me. I did nothing.
“How did you come up with this cocktail? It was a wonderful idea.”
“TikTok,” I lie.
I hate lying to her, but you can find anything on TikTok.
“I love the idea. I think maybe we’ll do this at the wedding, too. Have a Braden cocktail and a Skye cocktail.”
“It’s all the rage these days,” I say, hoping I’m right. I bring my cocktail to my lips without actually taking a drink. “I was thinking about saving the toast until after dinner. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course,” she says. “I like that idea. We’ll all be sitting down, and I don’t want to miss one word of what you’re going to say.”
I give her a weak smile. “Whatever you want, Skye.”
Ugh. Now I really need to think of something to say.
The truth of the matter is that Skye and I had a difficult time when she and Braden were getting serious. I was being a brat and feeling left out of her life. Betsy and I got close, but then Garrett happened… And at first, I was thrilled. Garrett and I seemed like a match made in heaven.
We met at a MADD gala that Skye attended for her employer at the time, mega-influencer Addison Ames. For some reason, I was drinking daiquiris that night. Banana daiquiris instead of my usual margaritas.
I’ll never drink a banana daiquiri again.
…
Several months earlier…
The band is playing Latin music, which I love, and I’m aching to dance and make a spectacle of myself in this gorgeous red dress, so when the handsome, dark-haired man approaches me, I’m ecstatic.
“Care to dance?” he asks.
“Sure.” I give him a dazzling smile. “Watch my drink, Skye.”
Skye always says that’s her job at clubs, to watch my drink. She hates clubbing, but we’re not at a club tonight. We’re at a charity gala, the music is awesome, and my legs want to move.
“What’s your name?” he asks once we hit the floor.
“Tessa!” I say loudly. “What’s yours?”
“Garrett.”
“Nice to meet you.” I take his outstretched hand.
He knows the basic moves and the side-to-side, and we move in synchrony to the Latin beat of the drums. Once we’re warmed up, Garrett leads me in front of him, in the cross-body move. I slide into each step, following his lead like a pro. I love to dance, and Garrett knows his stuff. The red dress is formfitting, but with each move I execute, I wish I were wearing something with a flowing skirt that I could twirl around in. We dance through three numbers before Garrett wipes his brow.