~Seven

+1(310)555-8427: I did what you told me to do and left the club. And now you still ignore my calls? What the fuck?

I deleted the text and my eyes traveled across the table to Kyree, digging into his bowl of chocolate ice cream. Then I dropped them to my bowl of hot bread pudding with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream.

“Dude, you got no idea what you’re missing. Mommy makes this”—I pointed to my bowl—“and you want that?” I shook my head as I chuckled.

Ky grinned with a mouthful as he leaned over his bowl. I was happy to see him back to himself. Jade said his appetite had come back just a few days ago. Dude was putting in work with his dinner.

We were in the dining room, having dessert after another lit dinner Jade put together for us. My girl was determined to keep me on the healthy side during off season, which is why I could slaughter this bread pudding after her herb and lemon roasted chicken dinner. She demanded we eat in here sometimes instead of in the kitchen. I didn’t fight her on it, seeing she’d upgraded this room nicely, too. 

While we dug in, Jade was upstairs, packing a suitcase for my stay in Connecticut. I was pulling out tonight for the youth football camp. I’d been checking my messages while eating. Elle assigned senior interns at the Dynamic Branding firm to manage my website, Facebook, and Twitter accounts. I had access to all of my social media, but those two, I mostly allowed them to handle. Instagram was another story. Only I had access to that.

I found myself checking my DM on Twitter then inbox on Facebook. Those were areas the interns were instructed to ignore. I had to deal with them. When I opened the Pages Manager app, there were lots of new messages—mostly from thirsty chicks and weird guys. Some were even from curious kids, who wanted that personal reach.

And I’ll be damned if…

Another one. They’d been coming more frequently since last month.

Trenton Jackson. Two hours ago.

I clicked on it, my body tensing all over.

I don’t know if you the one checking these but it’s the only way I can contact you. I really need a solid. I know it’s been a while. Can we talk. Its kinda a emergency.

An emergency? How many years later?

Nah, B…

My life was on a tight balance right now. There was no way I could add an absentee father to the equation. Dude hadn’t been seen since Shank hooked up our meeting back when I got in the league. The meeting I thought was the first time he’d seen me until last Easter when my little cousin, Kendal, showed the family a presentation of pictures and videos. One of the pictures was of Shank collecting money from my father. Child support. Dude was that close to me and didn’t make clear who he was.

“Oh, Trent!” My head shot up to Kyree. “Jordan’s going to ask his dad for the fidget spinners. He thought mine were cool! You’s a real G for that one.” He winked with a smile, using a term I’d taught him and mimicking my swag with it.

Pure appreciation. Straight gratitude. That’s what a six-dollar “emergency” cost me. Kyree FaceTime’d me my last day out in Cali, saying he needed this gadget all the kids in his school were raving about. He’d wanted in. His face was pained, probably from being sick, he was so desperate. It was nothing compared to what I’d gotten in return from his friendship every day. Nothing.

So, nah. There was no emergency for me in Trenton Jackson’s life. Emergencies in my eyes were for people who were a part of my life. I wouldn’t drop everything to see what this “stranger” needed.

The elevator pinged down the hall, taking me out of my head and I dug right back into the warm bread and creamy ice cream. God… It was off the chain. Seconds later, Jade breezed through the dining room, her little legs clad in gray tights. Her hands were on my shoulders, face pressed against mine, and boobs were on my back as she hugged me from behind. I wanted to kiss her, let her enjoy the last of my dessert in my mouth, but couldn’t. We agreed to rated G action in front of Kyree, at least until he was a little older and used to me, and definitely not until after the wedding when he’d know she was my wife and not just a girlfriend.

It was hard at times, especially now when I’d been on the road a lot and had seen so little of her. Even now, I had to fight not to look at her ass when the full view of it passed me. Kyree sat at the head of the table. I was to his right, and Jade took the chair to his left.

“You’re fully packed, big guy.” She batted her lashes.

Jade couldn’t have wanted the banana. I’d just dived in her last night after we’d gotten in from Philly. She was pulling at my clothes the minute we hit our garage where the limo dropped us off. Little mama acted like she couldn’t wait until we got into the house. I knew I had to get her then because she had to get up mad early to go across the road for Kyree, who stayed at Stenton and Zoey’s with Jordan. Or could she? Jade wanted the D all the time. I couldn’t think. Didn’t have a lot of time.

“Okay,” I sighed over a full belly, honestly preferring the bed I shared with my wife to the one I’d only sexed her in, in Connecticut. “Tyheem’ll be here soon. There’re a couple of things we need to discuss as a household before I leave again.”

Ky’s elbows were on the table and his fingers woven as he leaned against his arms. Jade squatted on her legs, her hands clasped, too, as she sat with a straight spine and fat peach that poked, distracting me. She had no idea, because her focus was on my next words just like Ky’s.

It reminded me of a point Ezra made on Saturday night at the men’s conference:

“You’d be surprised how many women are desperate for leadership because your eyes are not in tune to it. They don’t even know how agreeable their psyches are to be led by a man taking his God-ordained place in the household. These women have no idea because they’ve never been shown examples of godly-structured marriages, and nor have you.”

“First thing: Ky’s birthday party. It’s coming in a couple of weeks.”

“Aye!” Ky dabbed at the table.

After laughing, my eyes went to Jade. “Have we decided what we’re going to do?”

She shrugged. “I know you said here, but I don’t know.” Her chin dipped and eyes zoomed in. “Kyree not only has his school friends, he’s got family he’d have to invite, too.”

Ryshon.

“I ain’t trippin’ off that, J. They can come through. We can do it in the basement and get a sports theme going, just do a bowling party in the bowling room down there—”

“Ooooh! Yeah!” Ky’s eyes lit up.

“Or—I”—I continued—“could do a bouncy house in the back.”

Jade’s face fell. “Again, it’s too cold to have those kids out there, jumping around.”

“You know that big shed I have out there?”

Her brows met. “Yeah. I’ve never been in there, though.”

“I know. Because only I have a key. That’s where my party stuff is.”

“What party stuff?” Ky asked.

I shook off the meaning to the answer of that. “Lots of stuff you can’t see for years to come, lil homey.”

“Stuff like what?” Jade asked with a bite in her tone, inching across the table as though she’d hear my answer faster or clearer that way. “Were you a party planner at some point?”

I cocked my head. Jade knew damn well the only occupation I’d ever had was throwing the ball.

“JJ and me…” I ducked my head. “We used to have to throw private parties at our cribs if we wanted true privacy. I gotta lot of goodies back there. But I’d have to take you back there myself. It’s all organized by themes.”

“What sort of…” she wiggled her head, “…themes?”

The wild stuff we did at those joints started flashing through my head. Things we needed costumes and props for. No way I could share that in front of Ky. It was going to be enough to have to explain it to my wife. 

“Mature ones,” was how I deaded the conversation. “You just need to give me the word, and I’ll make something kid friendly and unforgettable.”

I hit her with hard eyes. Jade’s lashes clapped. Kyree sat quiet, watching the war for control between his moms and me.

She cleared her throat, eyes to the table now. “I’ll have Ky draw up a guest list and based upon that, I’ll make a decision and get back to you.”

“Oooooh!” Ky chirped. “I can do that tonight, Mommy!”

“Tonight, you take the last of your antibiotic, shower, read, pray and carry your butt to bed.” Her words were firm. Final.

Ky sulked.

“The next thing…” I tapped my phone for the time. “You reach out to one of the coordinators Elle hooked you up with last year?”

Jade’s eyes blew up as she straightened on her knees, over the table. “I actually have a meeting with her this week. It’s on my agenda.”

She seemed…nervous about the topic.

I lowered my chin this time. “We all good on doing it?”

Was I missing something?

Jade rolled her neck, wrinkling her face. “What are you talking about? Of course, we are. I’ve just been so busy lately, I haven’t had a moment to squeeze meeting with a coordinator in my scheduling book. I’ll get on it.”

My phone chirped. I ignored it, eyes locked on my wife—in secret.

“You sure?

Jade nodded, licking her lips then biting them together.

“A’ight. Training camp’ll be here before you know it, and once the season starts, we have to wait another year.”

“I know.” Jade kept nodding over and over. Her eyes kept blinking, over and over.

“Jade,” I rumbled, but with a low pitch. Ky was at the table. “I ain’t waiting another year.”

“Oh…I-I know!” she stuttered. Her head still shaking like she was crazy.

My eyes stayed locked into her until my phone chirped and vibrated again over the table. It was a reminder of the text that had come through seconds ago. That’s when I pulled my eyes away from her to check it. It was Tyheem, saying he was outside.

“That’s Tyheem. I gotta go.” I stood from the table and grabbed my and Ky’s bowls to carry into the kitchen.

He followed me right away, but Jade seemed stuck in her seat. She was in the kitchen right after us, but at a distance, rolling my suitcase with her. Ky followed me over to the sink.

He leaned into me. “She’s gonna marry you, TB. She just wanna make sure everybody’s okay. She likes you like you like her now.” His chin was low and eyes expressive. Ky was speaking guy code—or at least, trying to. “I’mma talk to her for you.”

I tried so hard not to laugh my damn guts out. Kyree didn’t forget a thing. He was talking about when I copped to him about liking his moms, but being too afraid to express it. There was no way I could tell him I had that on lock before I knew what to do with it.

“Time to get ready for bed, Ky!” Jade called over, seeing us close and whispering. “Your things for shower time are ready.”

“Good lookin’, homie.” I winked and smiled.

Ky didn’t smile back. He was dead serious.

“KyKy!” she added a little more bite to her call.

Ky backed away, his eyes of “understanding and support” were still on me, then turned toward his mother.

“Hang on.” I turned stretching out my arm, offering him my fist. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. Okay?” Ky came back towards me. “Hit me if you need me.” We bumped fists and he turned to leave the kitchen. 

Jade and I watched him leave the room for the back steps. My eyes swung over to her. Seconds later, hers met mine. A blush broke out over her face and she rushed over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing the side of her face in my chest. My arms went around her back, hands gripping her ass into me.

“I don’t like feeling left out,” she mumbled into my shirt. “Not even for my KyKy.”

“You’re never left out, shawtie. You’re the glue to this thing.” I kissed the top of her head. “That bread pudding was the plug! What was the name of it again?”

She used her nails to scrape down my back, knowing it drove me crazy when shirtless. 

“We’re doing it. We’re going to have a wedding.” I could hardly hear her speaking into my chest.

“I know we are. I just want you to know.” I turned her around in my arms, putting her back to my abs and bending down to kiss beneath her ear. I grabbed her firm boobs, feeling the lace under her tight t-shirt. Jade moaned, rolling her head from one side to the next. “I may not be able to do this in front of him…” I pinched and rolled her nipples between my fingers. “But I can’t be this close and touch you like this.” My hands moved down to her belly—the belly that had a hard bump—and I froze for just a second before catching myself.

Jade had a flat stomach, but it was never this hard. I’d felt enough bellies of women to know fat from firm. This was bigger and tight. Not big in the beer belly sense, but definitely not what I was used to feeling on her little body. Could it be—?

Nah. Can’t be…

She had no idea of my mental wrestling, and pushed her arms up to my neck, curving her spine as her cheeks rubbed against me to let me know she was with it. And without my permission, my wood sprang up, being with it, too.

“Baby, I gotta go. Tyheem’s out,” I basically begged.

Jade turned in my arms, a slick grin on her lips. “If I can get a sitter, I’m coming up to stay one night this week.”

“You’re more than welcome, lil one.” Needing to clear my head from what I just felt, I reached down and swiped my tongue in her mouth then kissed her lips softly. No way I was going to trip and bring it up. “You got a key.”

“Uhn-uhn,” she disagreed and pulled me toward the door. “I have your heart.”

“All I’m saying is, the average woman of today, whose passion isn’t fitness, but is fitness conscious doesn’t connect to a ‘fitness’ guru, who is constantly posting techniques from a gym with a full range of equipment.” I could hear the snarl in her voice. “If you want to try a new marketing area—a more practical and relatable one, my advice would be to show workout techniques that can be done outside of the gym, preferably at home.”

“But that limits the exercises I can do!” the woman argued, I could detect a bit of a whine in her voice.

“And it would bridge the gap between you and millions of women who want your body, would possibly follow the meal plan you provide, and would actually subscribe to your services marketed on social media,” Elle argued.

I was eavesdropping. It was horrible, I knew. But I couldn’t help it. Her voice was that commanding. She was a true beast.

“How would I get them into a gym where they would be more successful?”

“By meeting them where they are,” Elle quipped rapidly. “And that’s not in the gym.”

Things got quiet. My eyes circled the contemporary waiting room at Dynamic Branding. I was in Manhattan, waiting to see the woman of the hour. Outside of her office door, which stood ajar, was an elegant door tag with her signature inscribed, appearing blatant, powerful, and sexy in blue. It was over her title: Vice President of Account Managers.

Elle A. Jarreau.

“Ms. Jarreau,” A male’s voice attempted to break up the tension seeping out of the room. “We appreciate your input, but we’d like you to remember, Ms. Gordon here has over twenty-six-thousand followers on Instagram, alone.”

“I understand that, Mr. Lewis, but what does that equate to in sales for Jackie’s program? From what I see in your prospectus, it doesn’t mean very much.” She paused for a moment, taking a breath. Man, I wished I could see her in action. I could be assertive myself, but it had to concern just two people for me to go there. Elle made it seem easy—and professional. She hadn’t raised her voice. “I have a two-fifteen, probably waiting on me. We’ll keep your proposal in the front of our file. In six months, come back and we’ll revisit it. Implement new promotional materials, switch up your marketing—hell, use the freebies I just offered you today. If you come with better numbers, I’d be willing to offer you representation.”

“Isn’t that the point of coming to you in the first place?” the woman, Jackie, argued.

“Ms. Gordon, do you know how many entrepreneurs knock on our door every day, asking for our team to polish their product and make it shine for the world to see and consume?” There was a short pause. “Over thirteen hundred. You don’t receive thirteen hundred likes on a post. Twenty-six thousand followers don’t seem all that impressive now, does it?” More silence.

My phone rang, startling me into a leap off my chair. I scrambled in my purse for it. Quickly, I silenced it, realizing how jumpy I was. This was Elle. We were cool. But this was still her place of business. My husband’s, too, by extension. It was also the guilt of listening in on her conversation that had me so restless.

I was surprised to see the caller’s name across my phone. At first, I thought it was Ryshon, calling from a new line. I didn’t have time for him right now. If he was calling with drama, I’d hang up right in his ear.

“Hello?” my tone brisk.

“Jade?” My face opened in surprise. “This you?”

His mother. “Renee?”

“Yeah, girl. How you been?”

“Ummmm…” My eyes circled around the posh waiting room. I tried keeping my voice low. “I’m good. Actually, I’m in New York, about to go into a meeting. Everything okay?”

“Oh. That’s what’s up. How’s my KyKy?” she reminded me of the nickname we created for my son.

It was back when I tried desperately to gain her approval. I knew I was competing against several babies’ mothers and wanted to be the most notable one, so I fought for her attention. That thought had me mentally sighing, remembering to check on the delivery status for plants I bought for April’s room at the house. Had I been vying for her approval as I once did Ryshon’s mother? No. April made me feel like family, reaching out to me for things. Renee was always nice, but never trustworthy or reliable. When Ryshon was locked up, she never sent for Kyree. She didn’t see him if I didn’t bring him to her. 

“He’s…ummmmm…” I squeezed my eyes, thinking hard for my next words. I kept my voice low. “Uhhhh…maturing faster than my heart can take. You know?”

There!

That was honesty, but surface.

“Okay! Ryder told me he talk real good now. Like a white boy!” I heard the genuine pleasantness in her tone. Renee wasn’t making fun of my child.

I would expect for her not to understand how ignorant and classless that statement was. For chrissakes, she referred to her son by his street moniker and not his given name.

“He’s a smart boy.” I nodded. “Well spoken,” I whispered then my expression dropped. “Listen, Renee, like I said, I’m about to walk into a meeting—”

“Oh, yeah!” she bellowed into the phone, causing me to shrink in the waiting room. “I just wanted to ask you to bring one of your desserts to the party.”

“Okay.” Sounded fair. “Which one?”

“Well, you know I be fuckin’ up your pineapple pudding!” She giggled. “But Ryder want your strawberry shortcake. Then the kids gone need something. Them two for the adults. They too fancy for the kids. So a lil something for them, too. That ain’t a lot, right?” she purred, trying to mollify the rudeness in her request. 

Jarred, I sat unmoving, eyes unfocused as my head shook.

I am not taking requests from Ryshon…

Then my eyes blinked successively. “I—I’ll see what I can do. I need to go, Renee.”

“Oh. Okay, girl,” her tone remained upbeat. “I’ll holla atchu!”

I disconnected the call, feeling the anxious sensation lancing through my belly as it had been lately at the thought of Ryshon being back in my life. His mother calling confirmed he had returned.

Multiple footsteps filing out of the office door caught my attention. I stole a cursory glance of this Jackie Gordon, dressed in workout gear with her name printed on her leggings and across the breast of her shirt. Defeat danced in her eyes and weighed on her shoulders.

Elle, clearing her throat snapped my focus back to the door she leaned against, appearing her usual effortlessly beautiful self, but very…tired. She pinched the bridge between her eyes.

“Hey, girl,” she breathed. “The first round of invitations for April went out. The deposit has been made on the club, and the sponsors are all on deck.” I nodded, understanding the follow up information. “Come on in.”

I followed inside after she waved me on, strutting back into her office in five-inch black Louboutin booties under a silver knit, sleeveless sweater, and cranberry harem pants. Even her bracelets were strategically placed: a silver plated on one arm and on the other were stacked beaded bracelets. I couldn’t name drop on her entire ensemble, but I knew it was expensive.

She offered me a seat in front of her desk.

My eyes brushed over her on my way down. “Your sweater is gorgeous,” I tried nervously.

I had no idea why I was nervous, but whenever meeting with Elle in the work capacity, it brought about unexplained anxiety for me.

Elle’s eyes widened and she absent-mindedly touched the collar of the sweater and frowned. From this angle, it looked sequin, delicate.

“JAGMisha.com… I believe it’s a vintage Hermes.” She shook her head, overwhelmed, it seemed and pinched the bridge between her eyes again. “I feel a headache coming.”

“I’m sorry.” My weight pushed to my feet, but I was still seated. “I can come back.”

Elle waved me off again. Her eggplant manicure was simple yet elegant.

“Don’t be foolish. I called the meeting.” She took a deep breath. “I just got back from a much needed Belizean vacation late last night.” Her eyes rolled and closed then a wistful grin broke across her face. “It was just me, an island, water, and my guy. Blissful.” Her eyes opened and found me again. “I contemplated not coming in today. In fact, I canceled all of my appointments, except for yours. Then I learned Gordon was stopping by when I got in this morning. She was scheduled with one of my senior accountants, but I needed to speak with them myself.” She groaned, “I’ll be leaving soon. I promised Jax. I just need another day to get myself together.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your exhaustion. I heard Belize is gorgeous.”

“The people are, too! Physically and spirit-wise.” She groaned again, tossing her head back. “Jackson and I overdosed on Murder She Wrote and In Living Color episodes while tossing back cashew wine and inhaling Johnny cakes. Ugh! I just wanna go back!”

Her chin dropped and eyes pinned me to my seat. I swallowed, not knowing what it meant or what should I say.

Elle’s shoulders dropped dramatically. “You know… I’m going to share this with you, considering how family oriented and aggressively supportive you are of Trent.”

My eyes bulged. That really was the public perception of me.

Damn…

“When I took on my role here at Dynamic Branding, it was because I had this driven passion to link people to brands that could shape their reputations. I knew what it took to reinvent and change perceptions. I was good at it, and worked hard to prove it. I showed my boss I could excel and was given a decent role on his team. I ate, breathed, and shitted out relationship building and branding. But you know what happened?”

My eyes grew and I answered no with pouted lips.

“I fell in love with my boss. And while that’s great and all, it shifted things in my core,” she explained.

My eyes wandered across the room as I considered that. “I think love has the tricky power to do that.”

“Yeah, but in my case, when I thought the work was my life, love showed me how empty it was. And the moment I gave in to it, falling in love flooded every bit of my soul.” Her brows met. “My identity changed. The work fulfills nothing now.”

Whoa…

“I can see the conflict considering who your boss is versus your lover.”

Elle nodded. “The upshot to it is, my drive now is to build him up.” She upturned her palms to gesture the room. “This is Jackson’s dream. I am the tool to make it happen.” Elle’s gorgeous eyes locked on me again, questioning my understanding.

And I understood just fine. She championed for her fiancé. I swallowed hard. What a revelation.

“My exhaustion has set in because I can do the work and leave the office at a set hour to hopefully go home to him—to resume my real passion. Unfortunately, in my world, the clock isn’t set to end the business of the day. I travel with work. I go home to work. Pardon my French, but I’ve even fucked to work—and even at work countless times.” I tried catching my weighted jaw. “I’ll be forty soon. My therapist said my priorities have shifted. And I’m inclined to believe him.”

Elle. Sees. A. Therapist?

But she seemed so well put together! She was beautiful, talented, and in charge all the time. She had a wealthy and powerful fiancé. She made good money herself. What problems could she have? I knew she was friends with Lex, but I could never ask her about it. That would be inappropriate.

“I know I’ve been told I need more girlfriends to connect to other women, but I swear that’s not what today is about. I called a meeting with you because I need your help.”

My eyes ballooned. “Uh…of course. Anything.” I swallowed hard again.

Elle stepped around to behind her desk.

“We—Love is Action just signed a deal with Gucci. They want four of L.I.A.’s high-ranking clients in their apparel for the next eighteen months. Stenton Rogers and Trent are definitely of that group, and the boss just selected Aaron Croix, an MLB’er. We’ve just acquired female boxing sensation, Tori McNabb. So all the players have been chosen.” I nodded. “Then there’s Ase Garb. Are you familiar with them?”

“Sort of.”

“Well, it’s African—Yoruba philosophy based. Something about envisaging the power to bring things to fruition and generating change. They’re a black-owned, high-end designer, specializing in accessories and footwear. That’s socks and shoes. They’ve been on the block for just under ten years and have made the most out of each day of them. Ase Garb has replaced its CEO, who has a new vision. One that has redesigned their marketing plan, using public figures to legitimize their identity. Dynamic Branding just inked a three-year, multi-million-dollar deal with them two weeks ago, before I left for vacation.”

My eyes expanded wider, if that were possible. Dynamic Branding was making things happen for Love is Action.   

“Now that I’m back, I have to start implementing the deal. But I have enough on my desk between DB clients and trying to schedule a blow job for a man I’m trying to marry. Not to mention, planning my wedding—and yours!” Her brilliant eyes flashed upon me. “Trent called this morning.”

My eyes diverted and I licked my lips. “Yeah. I was going to ask you about that at some point. I just need the list of coordinators. Again.”

Elle sat down in her chair and began typing into her Mac while speaking.

“Back to what I need from you: Gucci is requiring seventy-five percent of their reps to be draped with their brand. I don’t have time to follow up with egotistical stylists and jelly-backed PAs with no balls to remind their boss of his or her obligation to wear designer clothes.”

My phone pinged of an email from Elle A. Jarreau. It was a list of four wedding coordinators. Three were in the Tristate area, and, oddly, one was in L.A.

“I think you’ll be perfect for taking on the role of managing this contract for Love Is Action.”

My neck snapped back. “Me?”

“Of course, you! You’re fashionable, and assertive with one of the clients they’re requesting specifically.” She shrugged. “Also, I know you’ve been wanting more involvement with Trent’s career. It’s a no brainer.”

My eyes blinked successively again. I couldn’t believe Elle was asking me to work with their sports agency firm.

“Look… I plan to compensate you. Unless you screw this up to the point of legal getting involved, you’ll have a job for the term of the longer contract, which is Ase Garb.”

“Pay?” That was emitted weakly. I had to remember whose presence I was in and straighten my spine. I cleared my throat. “What exactly are we talking?”

She shrugged with one shoulder and her mouth. “Not quite a six-figure role, but I can get you well beyond half of that.” She went back to typing. “Jackson and I are in the process of closing on an apartment in Global Towers. A luxury apartment I’m not even sure I want anymore. At one time, the idea of metropolitan living appealed to me. Now, I fantasize about having a back yard to plant in and entertain.” Elle’s blonde head lifted and she peered over to me. “My life is shifting. Remember?”

I nodded, taking another deep breath. Another notification of an email. This one was an Excel spreadsheet with the four chosen Love Is Action clients, their sizes from neck to shoes, and stylists’ contact information, as well as personal assistants.

My eyes zoomed in on Trent’s row where I was listed as his assistant. The stylist field was empty. His sizes were foreign to me, though I’d touched and tasted every morsel of his frame.

“Any questions?”

My head shot up from my phone. “Uhhhhh…” I stammered, my mind running in a gazillion directions. “This Tessie Bell person is listed in L.A.”

“She travels, Jade.” Elle cracked a smile. “She’s at the top of her game. Not coupon-accessible, but Trent’s cheap ass can more than afford her for your special day.”

“Is that who you’re using?” My eyes roved up to her.

Elle took a deep breath, her brick-red lips parting. “If I could ever stop this machine just long enough to exchange nuptials.” Her shoulders shrank, then all of a sudden her eyes brightened with revelation. “I can always opt for the team Bailey way: elope in secret.” She smiled radiantly.

But unexpected air flew from my lungs.