by JB Salsbury
“It’s a wedding, not New York fashion week.” I roll my eyes.
The bartender clears his throat, or maybe chuckles. All I know is when I look up, it seems as if he’s holding back a smile.
“Maribeth is so embarrassed about it,” she says from behind her champagne glass.
I drop my chin and groan only to have my attention called to my drink as the bartender tops it off with another shot of whiskey. “Thanks, man.”
He lifts a brow toward Anaya, who’s studying the guests for her next fashion victim. “No problem. Looks like you’re gonna need it.”
I laugh and shake my head. “No shit.”
“Oh my gawd, Tanner’s aunt is wearing white shoes—”
“I’m going to go say hi to… someone.” I grab my drink. “I’ll be back.” No I won’t.
“But—”
I lift my chin to the bartender and mouth Good luck, and he grins and shakes his head. I actually feel sorry for him. Good-looking guy like that stuck behind an open bar with Anaya? She’ll have her claws in him before dinner is served.
I’m grabbed by Tanner’s grandmother, who looks in desperate need of an interruption. When I see who she’s talking to, I understand why. Pete McMillan from our advertising firm loves the sound of his own voice.
“Jackson, it’s lovely to see you.” Her eyes are wide in a save me way.
“Mrs. Haute, it’s nice to see you too.” I hook her hand around my elbow before addressing Pete. “If you don’t mind, I need to steal the grandmother of the groom for a bit.”
I don’t wait for him to okay it before I guide her to the table where Tanner’s family will be seated.
“Thank you,” she says under her breath. “I love my grandson, but I can’t stand these uppity rich people.”
That makes me laugh. Tanner’s family has money, but after his mom died of cancer, his grandmother moved to Vegas to help out. His dad threw his grief into work, moved to New York, and only saw Tan on holidays. Even though Tanner’s grandmother had plenty of money, she still shopped at Walmart and Target and clipped coupons. I always respected her for that.
“I’m with you.” Except I’m working to become one of those rich people, minus the uppity part.
“How are your parents?”
“Good. Still working together at the UFL. My dad’s training fighters and my mom basically runs the place. Happy as always.”
“Send them my love when you see them.”
“I will.” I frown, trying to remember the last time I saw them. I’ve been meaning to get home but haven’t been able to take the time to do it.
“And your sister?”
“Axelle’s good. She and Killian have three kids. He’s still with the UFL, and she does her massage therapy stuff.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Her gaze slides around to take in the room’s abundance and settles on the garden hanging from the ceiling. “This is… over the top.”
“That’s Tanner for you.”
Her warm gaze settles on mine. “And how about you? Any wedding bells in your future?”
I sip my drink and chuckle. “Nope. Not unless it’s possible to marry your job.”
“Nonsense.” She squeezes my forearm. “Life is way too short. Don’t be like Tanner’s grandfather looking back at seventy and realizing he forgot to live.”
I do that thing where I take an intentional breath and realize Mrs. Haute is right. I don’t want to be that guy, but I’m only twenty-three years old. I’ve got plenty of time to live after I make my millions.
The image of one particular brunette shoots through my mind without permission, but then, she always does when I think about any kind of future that involves marriage and kids. Because she was the last woman I loved and the only woman I swore to love forever.
Funny how time changes everything.
Sadie
I pull the Kleenex out of my nose and toss it into the employee bathroom trash before checking my reflection one more time. My eyes are still glassy and the skin around them puffy. My nose is red, but at least I can breathe and my headache has dulled a little.
I finished setting up the reception hall as the lilies waged a take-no-prisoners war that left me a snotty, sneezing, puffy-faced mess. Ricky insisted I go to the gift shop for some allergy meds and told me to hang out until they kicked in because “the last thing we need is you dressing the salads in your snot.” He had a point.
Thirty-eight minutes later, I smooth my ponytail and make my way back to the party. I cinch my apron tighter and straighten the cuffs of my button-down. My bow tie is centered, and when I push through to the reception hall, the place is filled. I head to the bar where I left Ricky. He’s listening to a woman talk—one of the bridesmaids, I assume, judging by her dusty rose dress that matches the room’s accent décor.
Ricky’s eyes catch mine and he excuses himself from the conversation. “Hey, you feeling better?”
“Much.” I grab a tray and load it with champagne glasses before filling them each carefully. “Let’s just hope the meds hold. How many of those death flowers do you think are in this place?”
“Besides the ones dripping from the ceiling, I counted thirty at each table, so three hundred.”
My nose twitches at their mention. “I’m going to dose up again in a couple hours.” I hoist the drinks on one hand to take them around and offer them to guests. “If I don’t forget.”
Ricky winks and uncorks a bottle of red wine. “I won’t let you forget.”
I head off to the right and make my way around the edge of the room. I’m a little late with the champagne—most people already have a drink in hand—but this crowd seems to be the partying type. Most everyone takes a glass of champagne anyway.
I spot an older lady sitting at a table alone and without a drink. I head over to offer her champagne before I realize she’s not alone. A man standing nearby is talking with her, seeming to block her from the rest of the party with his tall body and broad shoulders.
I scoot around to her opposite side. “Can I offer you a glass of champagne?”
She smiles at me and there’s something familiar about her face. I just can’t put my finger on—
“Sadie?”
My posture stiffens. She didn’t say my name, but the voice that did makes my skin tingle, leaving no question as to who he is. My heart pounds a little harder, my stomach flutters, and my palms sweat.
The older woman’s gaze narrows on me. “Sadie Slade, is that you?”
I stand to my full height, some part of my higher reasoning taking over and telling me that yes, indeed, I have crashed headfirst into my past and there is no way to avoid it. So I tilt my head and smile. “Hey, Jack. It’s been a long time.” Why is my voice so high?
Jack steps close as he puts his hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “Sadie. I can’t believe it. I haven’t seen you since…” His smile falls a little.
He’s only gotten more beautiful with age. The angles of his face are more defined, what was once a boyish twinkle in his eye is now a seductive glint, and that smile. Well, he mastered the crooked, cocky smile in kindergarten, and it seems he’s been perfecting it ever since.
My hand holding the tray shakes, so I set it on the table and clear my throat. “Christmas. Over a year ago.”
He flinches, and his eyes narrow. “Really? That long ago, huh?”
Nice to see our last in-person interaction left an impression. I ball my fists and my teeth grind together as I bite back a shitty response.
“I’m Debbie Haute,” the older woman interrupts, as if sensing the tension. “I’m Tanner’s grandmother.” She offers her hand.
I take it to be polite, though I want to run like hell. “I thought you looked familiar.”
“Tanner stopped having people over to the house once he got to high school, but I remember you came to his thirteenth birthday party.”
“I did. Yeah.”
Debbie’s gaze jumps between Jack and me as an uncomf
ortable silence builds.
“I better get—”
“You work here?”
There’s nothing wrong with the way Jack asks the question, but I can’t help but hear condescension drip from the words.
“No, I like dressing in shirt-and-tie to crash fancy weddings.” My eyes wander the room, searching for an out, anything to get me away. “Call it a hobby.”
He frowns. “How did I not know you work here?”
Last he knew I lived in San Diego and worked cleaning brushes in the art department at my community college. He’d never expect to see someone like me in a place as upper-class as Perle de la Mer in Del Mar. Clearly he’s never even asked about me or my parents would’ve told him.
I shrug. “How would you know?”
The better question is how did I not know this was Tanner Haute’s wedding? I gather my tray back into my arms, handing a glass of champagne to Debbie then Jack. He takes the glass and our fingers brush, leaving a tingling that makes me want to wipe them on my apron.
“Dinner service is starting soon.”
“Wait!” Jack scampers around me so my choices are to stop walking or smack my forehead on his chest. He has a drink in each hand, but doesn’t seem to notice or care as his green eyes refuse to let go of mine.
I’m grateful when someone walks by so I can pull my eyes away and smile. After all, I’m the one working. I’m just doing my job.
“Are you upset? Your eyes. Have you been crying?” His eyes travel around my face, and I imagine what he must be seeing.
He’s forgotten. I guess I can’t expect him to remember tiny details like my allergies since we broke up. “Of course not. I’m fine.”
“Are you upset with me?”
“What? No.” My sinuses burn. My chest aches. “I have to get back to work.”
“We should get together, you know, to catch up?” He acts casual, unaffected, but I see a flicker of hope in his green eyes.
No. We shouldn’t. I have zero desire to take a stroll down memory lane. “I’m pretty busy this week.”
“It would have to be tonight. I leave for New York in the morning.”
“Oh, you’re still in New York?” Yep, totally knew that, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I’m working until late. I don’t think—”
The band announces it’s time for the guests to take their seats for dinner service.
“What time do you get off?”
Dammit. “I’m usually done at three.”
That’s a lie. We shut things down at midnight.
“I’ll wait up. Where can we meet? In the lobby? Or you could come to my room and—”
“Jack.” I’m already shaking my head. “I’m not going to come to your room, and I’ll be exhausted.”
“Fine, tell me where you’ll be and I’ll meet you there.”
“I—”
“Sadie, please.” He steps closer, and I get the feeling if he didn’t have a drink in each hand, he would try to touch me. “Even if only to walk you to your car.”
A flicker of anger stirs in my gut, chasing away any excitement or nervousness I felt when I first saw him. “We haven’t spoken in over a year. Now you decide you want to talk to me and it has to be tonight?” Everything has always been about Jack on Jack’s terms. Well, not anymore. I’m not the same girl he once knew. “No. I’m sorry.”
The woman I recognize from Ricky’s bar pushes up next to Jack, linking her arm in his and plucking the glass of champagne from his hand. “Jackson, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk.” She leans into him, lustful eyes on his lips.
He blinks, his shoulders straighten, and he clears his throat as if replacing the mask he’d let slip unknowingly. “Anaya—”
“I’m not that easy.” She winks and slips her hand into his, interlacing their fingers. “Come on, let’s go grab our seats.”
I always wondered what kind of woman Jack would move on to after we broke up. What kind of woman would attract him? I thought he’d go for a blonde—
“Hello, do you speak English?” She snaps her fingers in my face. “Can you please bring Jackson another whiskey and Coke?” She mouths each word like if I wasn’t an English speaker, her slow speech would help me understand.
I glare at Jack as he leans toward her and mumbles, “It’s okay, Anaya. I’m good.”
“No, you’re not. You need another drink.” She lifts a brow at me as if to ask which part of her demand I did not understand.
Jack looks at me apologetically.
I storm off and leave him to his female barnacle.
God, she’s beautiful. Probably graduated with some fancy degree from some even fancier college. I’m sure her and Jackson sit around talking about microeconomics and rocket science and… other academic shit. I’m not even smart enough to come up with legitimate hypothetical smart stuff!
Stupid Sadie.
I head toward the back and grab plates for the first of five courses.
It’s going to be a long night.
Jack
“This food cost a fortune and you’d rather drink your dinner?” Tanner drops his fork on his plate and glares at mine, which hasn’t been touched.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Dude. You’re always fucking hungry.”
I don’t want to eat because that would mean I’d have to lower my eyes to my plate rather than watch Sadie as she moves around the room. I had forgotten how much I loved watching her. It sounds creepy, I know. But watching Sadie move and interact with people is like watching waves roll to shore or the dancing flames of a fire. Relaxing. Mesmerizing. Her fluid movements and genuine smile always managed to soothe my frayed edges. I keep thinking she’ll eventually look up, catch me watching, and we’ll share a moment that’ll end in me calling her over. She’ll grin and blush and when she—
“Holy shit, I thought I recognized that look on your face. Is that Sadie Slade?”
Sadie is clearing plates and laughing with guests.
“She hasn’t changed much,” Tanner says.
That’s a lie. She has changed. The angles of her cheekbones and delicate jaw are more prominent. Even pulled back in a ponytail, I can tell her hair is shorter than I remember. Tanner wouldn’t notice the most obvious difference—that the bright innocence I always saw in her eyes when she looked at me is gone and replaced by a guarded skepticism.
“Did you talk to her yet?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“And how did that go over?”
She darts through a door with two armfuls of dirty dishes. I was hoping she’d be serving our table so I could talk to her, get a closer look at her, be near her, but she’s stayed to the farthest side of the room.
I sip my drink and shake my head. “Not as good as I’d hoped.”
“What did you expect?” He laughs and gulps his wine. “You promised the girl the world, then left and never looked back.”
I glare at him. “That’s not true. I looked back. A lot.”
“Did you?”
I stare at the door, waiting for her to come back out and thinking about the last time we spoke. “I did. Until the day I looked back and she was gone.”
The reception is coming to an end. The guests are drunk and swaying off beat to the music, and dirty cake plates have been cleared from the tables. I know this because it was the last time I saw Sadie.
With my back to the bar and a whisky—minus the Coke—in hand, I continue to peruse the room. Did she leave? My pulse pounds at the idea that I missed my opportunity to see her again tonight. I tug on my open collar and check my watch. It’s been over thirty minutes since I watched her disappear behind the Staff Only door.
“We’re about to do last call,” the bartender says behind me.
I turn around and face him. “Then make it a double.”
He grins and fills a fresh glass with ice. “You got it.”
“Can I ask you a question?” My speech is lazy, and my tongue feel
s as if it weighs ten pounds.
He doesn’t seem to notice or care that I’m buzzed as he hands me the glass. “Sure.”
“You know Sadie?”
His eyes narrow and the friendly expression he wore disappears. “Yeah. I do.” His answers seem clipped, or maybe I’m imagining it.
“What can you tell me about her?”
He crosses his arms and tilts his head as if he’s sizing me up. “Nothing.”
I’m confused. “But you said—”
“I know what I said.”
“How long have you known her for?”
“None of your business.”
Protective. Interesting.
“Ah. Okay.” I feel sick to my stomach. “So you and her… you two are a… like, a thing.” Of course they are. Sadie probably spends a lot of time with him at work, and I’ve seen the way his bar has been surrounded by women all night.
Fuck.
He doesn’t answer, but his shoulders coil with tension and his jaw gets hard.
I hold up my hands. “Easy. I’m an old friend.”
I frown as soon as the word leaves my lips. Friend? We were so much more than that. We were soul mates, destined to be together forever. From the moment I remember having life, she was in it. Sadie was my first love. My first everything. She was mine, and I was hers.
“Oh yeah? Old friend from where?”
I do not like this guy’s tone, not one fucking bit. “We grew up together.”
“Huh… what’s your name?”
Does this guy think he’s Sadie’s dad? Shit. “Jackson. Daniels.”
He’s already shaking his head. “She’s never mentioned you.”
“You’re obviously not that close to her then.” God, please, let him not be too close to her.
The dude smirks.
What the fuck does that mean?
“Jackson!” Anaya throws her drunken self against me, her arms dropping heavily over my shoulders. “Take me to bed.” She bites her lip, I’m sure in an attempt to be seductive, but it does absolutely nothing for me. “Get me out of this dress.”
I lock eyes with the bartender, who’s staring at me with a generous load of judgment. And maybe a bit of satisfaction. He pours out my untouched drink.