Love the One You're With (18 page)

But she didn’t seem to think that was a crazy question at all. “Think in the city? You get used to it. I don’t know. I guess
you just have to find people you can talk things out to and go from there.” She shrugged and gazed out at the water.

“I’m trying to make sure my buddy Rhys is having a good time,” Owen finally said. That wasn’t really the whole truth, but
it was a good start.

“You shouldn’t be so concerned about other people. It only fucks you up. Starting with this trip, I’ve decided I’m
only
going to do what makes me happy for the rest of the year,” Jack said definitively. “What makes
you
happy?

Owen considered. Swimming made him happy. So did kissing, Pop-Tarts, a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich from the deli down
the street, and summer thunderstorms. But all of that sounded sort of dumb.

“I guess life makes me happy,” he said finally.

Deep.

Jack cracked a smile. “Life?” she asked skeptically.

“What about you?” Owen asked. He really did want to know. He knew she was a dancer and her mom was French, but other than
that, he really didn’t know much about Jack.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She sighed, sounding so world-weary that Owen was taken aback. “Ballet for sure. Summer, parks, traveling,
Paris… It’s like I don’t know when I’m happy until I look back on it afterward.”

Owen nodded. He knew what she meant. Back in Nantucket, he’d breezed through life, winning swim meets, getting all the girls,
and not really thinking about any of it. It was only after he got to New York, and saw how complicated life could be, that
he realized how good he’d had it. Not that he wanted to go back to the way things had been before. Nantucket had been great,
sure, and he definitely missed his island home from time to time. But to return there would somehow feel like backtracking.
He’d been through a lot of friend and romantic drama since they’d moved, but he was none the worse for wear. And things were
certainly looking pretty good right now.

“What was the best day of your life?” Owen asked randomly. He leaned down and drew a smiley face in the sand with his finger,
then brushed it away. It was kind of nice to just talk to a girl. That was the thing. Whenever he’d begin to get close to
a girl, he’d become frustrated when he tried to talk about
real
things besides clothes and parties with her. Like Kelsey. She’d been super-artistic, and Owen had wanted to hear what inspired
her. Instead, she’d always giggle and initiate a make-out session, as if the only thing that mattered between them was sex.
But Jack seemed… different.

“I don’t know.” A smile played on Jack’s lips. “Maybe it’ll be today.”

“Yeah?” Owen arched a blond eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Jack shrugged. Looking into Owen’s bright blue eyes, a lot of things suddenly seemed possible. He wasn’t so set in
his ways, like so many guys back in New York. She tried imagining a future with Owen. Maybe they wouldn’t go to college. Maybe
they’d backpack through India, or maybe they’d sail around the world. The possibilities seemed as endless as the ocean stretching
before them.

“You want to go swimming?” Jack asked, untying the sea green pareo at her hip. She bit her coral-colored lip, as if waiting
for an answer.

Owen found himself distracted by the curve of Jack’s lips.
Calm the fuck down, Carlyle.
Owen reminded himself that Jack had a boyfriend. And while he couldn’t deny that it had been exciting to hook up with Kelsey
while she was in a relationship—the thrill of secrecy, and all that—look at where it had gotten him. He’d already been down
that road before. He needed something simple and no-drama. Like Elsie, maybe. She’d been calling him all day. Maybe he should
call her back.

“You coming?” Jack asked, already skipping into the water, playing in the waves. She looked graceful, with her dancer’s legs.

Yeah, Owen decided, getting up and following her. He’d call Elsie back.

Later.

Avery marched authoritatively through the lobby of the hotel that afternoon, not even noticing the parrot that practically
flew into her dress. She couldn’t believe her mother was getting married
tomorrow
. There was so much work to be done! She had to find appropriate clothing for her and the girls, make sure the guys had suits,
had to find music that wasn’t too hippietastic, find a party planner… and then there was the food, the champagne, the officiant…
Avery felt dizzy just thinking about it as she marched toward the front desk.

“I’m planning a wedding and I need to speak to a wedding planner immediately,” Avery announced to the pretty woman behind
the reception desk.

“Congratulations!” The receptionist’s expression changed from pleasant to surprised as she gave Avery a once-over. “You’re
going to need to speak to Yvette. She does all our bookings. Now, she has some availability tomorrow…”

“The
wedding’s
tomorrow!” Avery screeched. “I mean, is there any way to speak to her today? It’s a small wedding,” she pleaded.

The woman appraised Avery, seeming to sense she was the type of girl who wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Well, if it’s an
emergency… I’ll just be a second,” she said to the man sitting at the computer next to her. “Come with me, darling. No tears,
we’ll make this a dream wedding.” She squeezed Avery’s upper arm reassuringly. Avery nodded. Why had she even gotten herself
into this? She could be on the beach with Jack or Rhys, her new boyfriend. She couldn’t help but smile when she thought about
him.

She was escorted into a glass-enclosed office that reminded Avery of the offices at
Metropolitan
, the magazine where she’d interned. A harried-looking woman was barking into her cell phone. She had honey-colored hair,
red cat’s-eye glasses, and obvious Botox. Despite the heat, she was wearing a black St. John’s suit.

“Well, I don’t
care
if Rihanna doesn’t do private parties. My clients want her to perform. It’s the goddamn most important day of their lives,
they don’t really care about the money. Just tell her to make it work.” She slammed down the phone and glanced curiously at
Avery.

“She has a rush wedding,” the receptionist explained, then scampered out, clearly terrified of Yvette.

“Tomorrow,” Avery clarified, looking around the windowless office. A plate of multicolored macaroons sat on Yvette’s desk,
the only color in the sea of blacks and steel grays. It didn’t look very celebratory.

“You young girls getting married.” Yvette shook her head. “Well, we do charge additional for a
rush
ceremony, but stick with me, kid. I’ll give you the wedding of your dreams. And you’re in luck, because we just had a cancellation.
Goddamn prick was cheating on her with her tennis instructor. Her
male
tennis instructor,” the woman clucked. “You play tennis?”

“Um, no.” Avery shuffled from one pink Miu Miu pump to the other. “I’m actually not getting married. It’s my mother,” she
clarified.

“Oh.” For a brief moment, Yvette looked disappointed. “Well, okay. So, religious?”

“No,” Avery said quickly. Edie had gone through a pagan phase where she’d thrown parties and praised various earth goddesses,
but thankfully, that was in the past.

“Number of guests?”

“Um, thirty?” Avery said, rounding up since she knew her mom’s penchant for inviting random people to parties. “And we’re
staying over at the villas, so I was thinking we could do everything there. Maybe the reception by the pool? And I’d really
like a lot of whites and candlelight. I want it to be low-key but romantic. I want it to be like a dream version of a desert
island. But not cheesy. Orchids, not roses. And no crappy DJ. A jazz band, maybe.” Avery nodded. Now that she thought about
it, an island wedding
was
romantic. She imagined Rhys in an off-white suit and her wearing a mermaid-cut white dress, standing barefoot on the beach.
Actually, not barefoot, she’d wear an adorable pair of Christian Louboutin slingbacks so Rhys would pick her up and carry
her…

“Done!” Yvette was typing some things in the computer, yanking Avery back to reality—she wasn’t planning
her
wedding, she was planning her mother’s wedding.

“Honey, relax. I’m the professional. I’ll give your mom the wedding she wants. Now, for payment…” Yvette trailed off. Avery
fished in her voluminous straw Marc Jacobs bag and threw down her black AmEx card. Yvette grinned like a three-year-old on
Christmas morning. “Terrific. So, you trust my judgment?”

Avery nodded. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice. “What about dresses?”

“I’m calling Jasmin and having her close down the store for you. It’s a big time in your family’s life. Enjoy it,” Yvette said, noting Avery’s skeptical expression.

Ten minutes later, Avery was standing on a pedestal in the rear of the resort boutique. She’d ignored the store every time she’d walked past, sure it was full of resort clothes for middle-aged women. But it was actually sort of cool, and she loved having the whole place to herself. She sipped from a glass of champagne and glanced at the side table next to her that was covered with a fruit and cheese plate and a platter of crudités. It’d have been more fun if
anyone
was here to help her—she’d texted Jack, but with no response; she didn’t have Layla’s number; and when she’d called she’d gotten Baby’s voice mail. Not that Baby had any interest in wedding planning. Still, there were worse ways to spend a few hours than being fawned over by an adoring salesperson.

She should tell that to her sister.

“You make the perfect bride,” Jasmin, the pretty, tiny salesperson murmured.

Avery turned in the three-way mirror and examined her butt in the purple silk Chloé dress she was trying on. “I think I mentioned, it’s my mom who’s getting married?”

“Forgive me!” Jasmin’s dark brown eyes widened. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful in that. You
would
make a perfect bride.”

“Thanks,” Avery said. The dress was pretty, but it was impossible to know if it was the
right
maid of honor dress to wear for her mom’s wedding. She really wanted Jack’s opinion, and wished her friend would pick up the phone. Of course, she could call Rhys, who would only be too happy to come. Since yesterday, they’d been texting nonstop. Last night, at the hotel bar with Jack, Avery had blushed and tried not to giggle as he sent her flirty text after flirty text. As the night wore on, their flirt-texting became a little more… intense. Make that sexual. Which got Avery excited, but also made her a little nervous. She’d never done
it
before, because she’d never met the right person. Rhys had had a girlfriend for years, so surely he had more experience. Avery wasn’t worried, though. Rhys was a total gentleman. Sex was the last thing on his mind.

She took out her phone to invite him over here, but hesitated. She sort of wanted her dress to be a surprise. Wasn’t it bad luck for the bride to see the groom before the wedding?

Ahem, bride and groom?

“I guess I’ll take it. Actually, three of them. Two in this size,” Avery decided, guessing that, even though her chest was slightly bigger and her waist was a little bit smaller, she and Layla were roughly the same size. “And one in a zero.” Baby.

“Okay.” Jasmin nodded. “And the wedding dress? We have one Ralph Lauren Collection piece that I think might be perfect.” She led Avery to a gorgeous, flowing silk georgette dress. It wasn’t a wedding dress; instead it was a knee-length cocktail dress one might wear to an elegant outdoor party. Avery fingered the slightly sheer, whisper-soft ivory material. It was perfect for her mom.

“That too.”

“Great. I’ll do the alterations tonight, once your mom can come in. Do you think she’ll be able to make it here soon?”

“Yes,” Avery said. They only had a matter of hours, but she’d just have to drag her mom to the boutique. Edie would have to tear herself away from island basket weaving, or whatever she was doing.

“Perfect.” Jasmin smiled and clapped her hands. “You can really tell you’re surrounded by love. You’re even better than working with a bride.”

Avery blushed. “Thanks!” She pushed the glass door of the boutique open and practically ran up the hill toward the villa complex. She needed to call Yvette to confirm all the details, plus she wanted to squeeze in a quick manicure, too.

“Hello?” Avery called as she yanked the door of the villa open a few hours later, dresses in hand. The villa was a total mess, with clothing and bikini tops scattered in a path toward the sliding patio door. After her whirlwind afternoon, during which she’d dragged her mom to the boutique for her alterations and basically gotten the
entire
wedding in place, she wanted a shower and a nap to rest up before the rehearsal dinner tonight—which, of course, she’d also organized. “Guys?” she called again.

“Outside!” Avery heard Owen’s muffled voice through the paned glass. She could just make out two figures sitting in the hot tub, their heads tilted close to one another.

Avery made her way outside. Owen was lazing around in the hot tub, glasses of what looked like homemade dark and stormies scattered around its edge. And with him was…
Jack
? They were sitting close beside each other, looking awfully cozy.

Suddenly, Jack’s words when she first arrived repeated on loop in Avery’s head:
“I missed you so much! New York was so boring without you!”
Avery narrowed her eyes. So Jack got bored in the city, and decided to come to the Bahamas to flirt with
her
brother? All the while lying to Avery and playing the friendship card? So not cool.

“Where have you been?” Owen asked, cocking his glass tumbler toward her. “Come hang out!”

“Um, getting ready for our mother’s
wedding.
Why didn’t you guys answer your phones?” Avery asked hotly. She felt like stomping her foot and having a temper tantrum.
Until she saw Owen’s face, totally drained of color.

“Wedding?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yeah,
tomorrow
. They decided at lunch today. She didn’t tell you guys?” Avery shook her head in disbelief. What the hell was her mother
doing? Edie Carlyle had always been flighty, but failing to mention her rapidly impending wedding seemed a little extreme,
even for her.