by Cheryl Holt
“You could finish your degree too. Why not? You’re not dead.”
Ms. Kildare’s jaw dropped, as if the notion had never occurred to her. “I could, couldn’t I?” She chuckled in a pretty way. “There must be a magic tonic in the water up here. Or it might be the clear mountain air. I’ve been stuck in a rut for so long, but since I arrived at the Inn, I’ve been thinking of implementing all sorts of changes.”
“Good for you. I’ve been thinking the same, so let’s blame it on the champagne.”
They clinked their glasses again, and when Rachel tried to pour them another serving, Ms. Kildare waved her away.
“I have a date,” she said, “so I should behave myself.”
“A date! That sounds fun. Have you caught wedding fever? Is a romance blossoming?”
“Yes, it’s blossoming, and I’m debating whether it should continue after the wedding is over.”
“Who is it with? Or would you like me to guess?”
Ms. Kildare hesitated forever, then she scowled. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“If I invited your dad to visit me in Malibu, do you suppose he would?”
Rachel gasped. “My dad?”
“I know he rarely takes time off work. How hard would it be to coax him down for a California vacation?”
“Are you hooking up with my dad?”
“I shouldn’t have mentioned him.” Ms. Kildare smiled a sly smile. “I must have had too much to drink.”
“But . . . but . . . my dad! I’m totally stunned.”
“Don’t you dare tell anybody about this. I would hate to embarrass him.”
“I won’t tell; I swear, and I doubt he’d be embarrassed if people discovered he was being friendly with you. It’s just . . . wow.”
“He’s so protective of you kids. He might not like me blabbing, and I should sober up.”
“You don’t seem too bad to me.”
“Yes, but I have the rehearsal dinner this evening, and my ex and Crystal will be there, so I plan to over-imbibe then. I can’t be completely wasted before I stumble in or I’ll likely pass out in the middle of the toasts.”
She stood and left, and there was a bit of a stagger in her stride. Rachel watched her go, then Amy came over and slid onto the chair she’d vacated.
“I saw you guys chatting,” Amy said, “but I’ve barely spoken to her. What did she want?”
“We gossiped about her ex-husband and Crystal Benjamin, both of whom she despises. And we discussed how the wedding was stirring new impulses.”
“What kind of impulses?”
“Well, you might leave the commune and move home, and if so, I could move out and get my own place.”
“Would you?” Amy asked.
“I might.” Then she said, “I found out who Dad spent the night with.”
“Who?”
Rachel grinned. “You know who.”
Amy blanched. “He slept with Ms. Kildare?”
“Apparently so.”
Amy clucked her tongue. “We probably shouldn’t tell Jennifer.”
“No, definitely not. She wouldn’t like to hear that Dad is hitting on her mother-in-law. That might be more of a wedding surprise than she needs to receive.”
When the text initially arrived, Kyle didn’t bother to look at it. It wasn’t sent from anyone he knew, and he figured it was spam. But it came again, three more times, and finally, he picked up his phone.
As he read the message, he grimaced with distaste. His first impulse was to ignore it, but he didn’t like to ever be a dick. His second impulse was to wonder if he shouldn’t find an adult to deal with the situation, but who would it be? Who would care? He couldn’t think of a single person.
He was in the family’s suite at the Inn, and for once, he had it all to himself. Everyone else was down at the rehearsal dinner.
He could have attended too, but he’d bagged out, preferring instead to hide in the room and stare at the TV. He couldn’t wait for the wedding to be over, for Jennifer to leave on her honeymoon, so he could head home to Oregon.
Another text pinged, nagging at him to pay attention, to do something, and he sighed and wrote back, What’s the address?
Directions were provided, and he responded, I’ll be there as quick as I can. Half an hour?
He scolded himself for being an idiot, then he grabbed his jacket and marched out. They didn’t have a rental car; they’d had a chauffeur, hired by Mr. Benjamin, bring them from the airport in Aspen, but the Inn furnished rides down into the village of Cross Creek.
He went to the bell stand out in the driveway, and a few minutes later, a bellman was whisking him down the hill.
The main street was busy, and there were tourists everywhere. The bellman pulled up in front of a bar, so they were blocking traffic, and the cars behind them began honking. There were no parking spaces, so the guy said, “I’ll circle around the block until I see you.”
“Thanks, man,” Kyle told him.
The place was packed, the windows open wide. A band was playing, and country music pounded out. Customers had spilled onto the sidewalk, and apparently, there were no laws about drinking outside because they all had liquor in their hands.
There was a bouncer at the door, and Kyle approached him and said, “Your manager texted me.”
“We’ve been watching for you. I appreciate you getting here so fast.”
A second bouncer escorted Kyle inside, to a dark corner, and . . . ?
There was Lindsey passed out at a table. She was with a group that was Jennifer’s age, or maybe even Amy’s, but they weren’t guests from the wedding, so he couldn’t imagine where she’d met them.
“We didn’t dare boot her out in this condition.” The bouncer had to shout in Kyle’s ear to be heard over the loud music. “She had us contact you.”
“What happened to her?” he asked.
“They were doing shots.”
“And you kept serving her?”
“Hey, it’s a free country,” the bouncer claimed, “and I’m not her nanny.”
“Do you know who she is?”
“I guess she’s famous, but it doesn’t matter who she is. Just take her up to the Inn, so we don’t have any trouble.”
“She’s only nineteen.”
The guy blanched, then defensively said, “We card everybody, so don’t blame me. If she was admitted, she had a fake ID that appeared very real.”
“Don’t let her in here again,” Kyle angrily fumed, “or I’ll call the cops on you. She’s the kind of person who could get your liquor license revoked.”
Kyle would never call the cops, and he had no idea how a liquor license was revoked, but underage drinking was a huge issue in his family, and he was livid.
He shook Lindsey awake. The others, who were much older than her, were laughing, banging their glasses in an annoying rhythm, and taunting him for ruining their fun.
“She can’t go now,” one prick said. “The party’s just starting.”
“Fuck off,” Kyle caustically seethed.
He’d been following Internet stories about her all day. The comments had been cruel and vicious, and he’d wondered how she was handling the attacks.
Obviously not very well.
She finally noticed him and groggily said, “Kyle? What’s up?”
“You had the manager text me.”
“I did?”
“Yes, and we’re heading back to the Inn.”
“But I’m with my new friends.”
“You can’t stay. You’re too obnoxious, so you’ve been kicked out.”
She frowned. “I couldn’t have been. I’m really popular. Ask anyone.”
“You drank so much that you have to leave. They have a rule about it.
”
“If I was in Hollywood, they wouldn’t kick me out. They’d be glad I was a customer.” She was slurring her words, and—as if he hadn’t heard her the first time—she repeated, “I’m popular.”
“Yeah, you’re a regular pageant queen.”
He jerked her to her feet and slid an arm around her waist. Her legs were like jelly, so he had to balance her on his hip. He stood on one side, and the bouncer on the other, and they dragged her out. She could barely walk; she was that intoxicated.
People were aware of who she was, and cameras were snapping pictures as they went by. They weren’t being furtive about it either.
Lindsey looked awful. Her hair was tangled, her makeup smudged, her clothes askew, so there would be more negative stories. He worried about how she’d survive it. Literally.
She was so screwed up, and this would dump more disgrace on her than what she’d already endured. What would her mother think? What would her stepfather do? The whole Benjamin family was selfish and oblivious, and he didn’t suppose any of them would intervene to help her.
The bouncer elbowed a path through the crowd, and as they burst onto the sidewalk, every phone camera was aimed at them.
Luckily, the bellman rolled up as they exited the building. They guided her to the vehicle, and Kyle lifted her into the backseat. She collapsed onto her side and passed out again.
He opened the passenger door to the front seat. When they’d driven down the hill, Kyle had filled the bellman in on their mission. He’d been cool about it, but then, the Inn catered to the uber-wealthy of the world. He’d probably witnessed many embarrassing things.
He glanced at Kyle, peeked at Lindsey, then said, “All set?”
“Yes. Get us out of here.”
In the crush of spectators, someone said, “Hey, wasn’t that Lindsey Holliday? Man, she was totally wasted.”
Kyle tsked with disgust, climbed in, and slammed the door.
“You’re what?”
“We’re having a bachelor party. It’s no big deal.”
Jennifer glared at Eric and said, “No, no, no. We’re hanging out at the Inn tonight—in the bar with our guests.”
“Most of the guys are coming with us, so it will be pretty quiet in the bar.”
“Who is us?”
“Me and Josh?”
She peered around, but Josh was nowhere to be found.
“You never mentioned this,” she said.
“We just decided.” His expression was irked, as if she was being a pest. “Our engagement was so short that there wasn’t time to gather my buds in Vegas or some other fun spot. Josh pointed out that we hadn’t scheduled one, and I thought we should fit it in.”
He shrugged, as if he’d just explained the mysteries of the universe, and she nearly hit him.
“I’ve scarcely seen you since you arrived,” she said. “You can’t run off like this.”
“You had your bride’s lunch this afternoon. Why can you have a party, but not me?”
She bristled with fury. “My bride’s lunch wasn’t a drunken brawl. We told stories and unwrapped gifts, but we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you and how you’re sneaking off again.”
“Well, we’re marrying tomorrow, so if I want to have a bachelor party, I have to hold it while I’m still a bachelor. It’s tonight or never.”
“Why can’t it be never?” She definitely sounded like a bitch, but she didn’t care. “When were you intending to tell me about this? Why are you only raising it now, when you’re scooting out the door?”
“I’m not hiding it from you.”
“You conveniently neglected to apprise me, and you can’t leave. You have to stay with me.”
“No can do, babe,” he said, making her gnash her teeth.
“Where will it be? Down in the village?”
“No, it’s in Aspen, at a private club.”
Her temper had been on a slow boil, and it bubbled over. He expected her to believe he’d booked—at the last minute—a private club in Aspen. In July. In the middle of the summer tourist season. The place had just happened to have an opening?
She was biting her tongue so hard that she was surprised she hadn’t gnawed it bloody. She glanced around to ensure no one had noticed that the bride and groom were about to have a knock-down, drag-out fight.
They were on the rear patio. The rehearsal dinner had just ended, and it had been lovely, with no problems, glitches, or awkward encounters. People were chatting, laughing, heading to the bar.
She’d assumed she and Eric would hang out there too, then she’d return to her room, reminisce with her sisters, and fall asleep so she’d be well-rested for her big day. She’d figured Eric had a similar agenda for the evening. But he was going to Aspen? To a private club? With reckless, irresponsible Josh Taylor?
She’d had mimosas with Eric at breakfast, and he’d been so hungover that he couldn’t take off his sunglasses. Would he and Josh grow that wild again? Would he be so wasted that he couldn’t stagger out of bed in the morning?
In the brief period they’d been acquainted, they’d been a happy couple. They hadn’t had a single incident pop up that would have caused a quarrel, but then, they were only together when he was free and available.
She hadn’t moved in with him, and her possessions were still stashed at her small apartment in Studio City. She was planning to bring her things over after their honeymoon. She’d never so much as left a toothbrush at his glitzy, huge home in the Hollywood Hills, and she wouldn’t have presumed to bluster in and make space for her clothes in one of his closets. And he hadn’t ever asked her to do that.
While she’d frequently spent the night with him, it was usually when he’d whisked her off to an exotic locale on the spur of the moment, but those expensive excursions weren’t real life. The trips had been fantasies and had given her no indication of how they’d interact on a daily basis.
They’d floated along in a sort of dream where normal concerns weren’t allowed to interfere.
What was up with him? They occasionally drank alcohol, but never to excess, so she’d never seen him intoxicated. Was he a secret drunk? Or was his behavior the sign of a deeper issue? Didn’t he want to get married? Was he anxious to forget he was about to be a husband?
In light of his aversion to socializing with their friends, it seemed as if he was playing a part, as if he’d been cast in one of his dad’s movies, and he was merely pretending to be a groom rather than being about to wed.
She was totally bewildered and really, really angry. What should she do?
“When will you be back?” she asked.
“I suppose we’ll be gone all night.” She must have looked horrified because he hurried to add, “I won’t be late for the ceremony.”
Josh walked up and said to Eric, “The valet texted me; the limos are out front.”
She scowled at Josh. “Limos—as in plural?”
“Yes.” Josh didn’t realize he’d stepped into the middle of an argument. “There are sixteen guys coming. We needed two cars.”
She was completely stunned. Sixteen men were accompanying them, and that was most of the male guest list. She could barely stop herself from grabbing Josh, shaking him, and demanding, When did you actually arrange this?
Aspen was a small, busy tourist town, so she was certain it hadn’t been a recent idea. More importantly, why hadn’t they told her about it?
The sole possible answer was that they knew she’d be aghast at what they’d organized, and their furtiveness meant it would involve conduct that would enrage and offend her.
She’d like to wrap her fingers around Josh’s throat—Eric’s too—and squeeze until he was dead on the floor, but instead, she smiled a tight smile and said, “Well, then, don’t let me keep you.”
Eric studied her, then frow
ned. “Are you pissed?”
“Yes, I’m pissed. You’re being a prick again, and to my great consternation, I’m wondering why I would proceed with the wedding.”
“It’s just a bachelor party,” Eric claimed. “Every groom has one.”
“Yes, grooms have them, but they don’t lie about them and hide them from their brides.”
Josh winced, and Eric said, “We’re not hiding it. Don’t be so hysterical.”
The flippant remark incensed her, and while she didn’t like to use crude language, she said, “Fuck you.”
He’d rarely heard her curse before, and he was too astonished to reply.
“We won’t be there that long,” Josh said, attempting to calm the situation.
“Fuck you too,” she caustically retorted.
Josh’s cheeks heated as if he was embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I hate that we’ve upset you.”
“Leave me alone,” she said. “Have your friggin’ party. At the moment, I don’t care. Party. Don’t. Get wasted. Don’t. Return in time for the wedding. Don’t. I don’t care.”
Eric had never previously witnessed her in a temper. Their relationship always cruised on a smooth surface, and his expression became placating. “We’ll be back shortly. I promise.”
“Fine. Whatever.”
“Don’t be like this, babe.”
“I’m not your babe.”
She whipped away, and when he reached for her arm to stop her, she shrugged him off and stomped out without another word.
“Aren’t you Jennifer’s brother? What’s your name? I can’t remember.”
“Kyle.”
“Why are you lurking outside my suite?”
Crystal had just escaped from the rehearsal dinner. It had been as tedious as she could have predicted, but she hadn’t considered skipping it. She’d been eager to flaunt herself at Sharon, but the blasted woman had hardly noticed her, so much of Crystal’s enjoyment had evaporated.
The food had been bland, the stories stupid, and the toasts ridiculous. She’d been seated next to Dennis, and they’d ignored each other. She’d spent the entire meal, contemplating the petty revenges she could implement to drive him insane.