Chapter Seventeen

Saturday rolls around. The weather’s perfect—crisp and sunny—and Tim hasn’t given me any overtime work. As a small sign of appreciation for being on call last weekend, I don’t expect him to give me any for another weekend unless something major implodes.

After my run, I shower, then drink coffee and munch on one of Michelle’s granola bars while checking email and Facebook. This is my favorite time of the week, when everything’s quiet. Michelle won’t be up until at least eleven, and when Jan used to actually live with us—rather than her now-fiancé—she didn’t get up until ten.

Since I’m done with Free Radicals, I check R.C. Miller’s page feed for any news about the sequel. Although he puts out four books a year, I feel like he’s writing too slow.

Okay, okay, I’m being a jerk by calling him slow. He probably doesn’t sit on his ass all year long. It’s just that I can read one of his books in, like, a day, even though I know it takes him longer to just type up all those words. If you include thinking time, he probably needs months to write a book, but hey, a fan wants what a fan wants. I pout as I realize he won’t be publishing a new book until the end of May. That’s so unfair.

Sniffing, I preorder the book, then change into a black sweater and skinny jeans. Alexandra Darling’s hosting a surprise party at her home to celebrate Jan and Matt’s engagement. I told her I’d come by an hour early to help her set things up, because stuff like this is part of the best-friend contract…even though she said I didn’t have to. I pull my hair back in a ponytail and run pink lip gloss over my mouth then grab an Uber for Alexandra’s house.

It’s a big place for one person, but I suspect she keeps it mostly for family parties. God knows she loves hosting events to get her family together. The two-story house doesn’t have any of the Darlings’ usual fancy cars parked in front.

“Welcome, Sammi! You look lovely today.” Alexandra hugs me, her gray eyes warm.

I hug her back. “So do you.”

She’s casually chic in a navy cardigan, mint ankle-length dress, and nude ballet flats. She celebrated her sixty-fifth birthday not too long ago, but if it weren’t for her silver bob and the fine lines on her skin, you would never suspect she was that old. If I had to bet on who had more energy—Alexandra or a six-month-old puppy—my money would be on her.

She leads me into her home. It’s elegant and warm, with lots of earth tones, Italian tiles, and comfy couches and seats. The open kitchen shines with state-of-the-art stainless steel appliances.

One of Jan’s cousins, Cora, waves at me. Just like her older supermodel sister, she’s gorgeous: perfect bone structure, shiny black hair and amber eyes. However, unlike her sister, she works at Sweet Darlings Inc. in the finance department. Since it’s our day off, she’s in a Yale sweater, denim skirt and killer boots. I’ve never seen her in bad shoes, ever. She’s single—crazy, right?—because men are either too blind or too chicken to ask her out.

She gestures at a plethora of bottles on the marble-top island. “Want something to drink? We have rosé, chardonnay, cocktails…”

“A mimosa, please.”

She grins. “Excellent choice.” She puts the drink together and hands me a chilled glass bubbling with the orange liquid. “So. You and my cousin.” She waggles her well-shaped eyebrows. “Any progress? Heard you guys work together.”

I take a sip. Freshly squeezed OJ really elevates the cocktail. It doesn’t hurt that Alexandra doesn’t believe in cheap bubbly. “David and I are totally not at the moment.”

“Really?” She blinks, her long lashes moving like butterfly wings. “Seriously?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But I thought you liked him.” She leans closer. “What’s going on?”

I take a long swallow of the drink, then shake my head. “I’m waiting for David to be over it.”

“It?”

“His rebound.”

“Ohhh,” she breathes out, nodding slowly. “That makes sense. You don’t want to be the rebound chick. It’s gotta be hard to sit on your hands, though.”

“It’s not too bad. I’m distracting myself with a guy.”

She leans even closer and lowers her voice. “Who’s your new man?”

I start to open my mouth, then stop. Jan said Luke’s and Alexandra’s families know each other. Well, more like his parents and Alexandra, but that doesn’t mean Cora doesn’t know about Luke. Besides, I’m not even sure if Luke counts as my “new man” or a “fling,” since we only had one date, then he vanished.

And the kiss! Oh, and the flowers and chocolate. And he did text and call on Thursday…

Right. And since then, nada. It’s annoying, because usually men don’t pull a disappearing act after one date. On the other hand, none of them had to deal with me answering an endless stream of worthless texts from my ex. Grr.

“You know David’s seeing someone,” I say instead.

She cants her head. “Amy? She’s nothing.”

I arch an eyebrow. It’s so odd to hear Cora refer to someone as “nothing.” She loves to gossip, but she isn’t like Izzy the Snob.

“She’s been following him like a puppy for years, but he’s not that interested, you know?”

I just nod with a vaguely neutral smile.

Which she takes as a sign of encouragement. “I mean…she’s nice enough, but so not David’s type.”

Cora starts a long thesis on “David’s type”—nice, sweet, smart, honest, hardworking, pretty… Loves family. Loves dogs. Okay with not having cats because he’s allergic. The list is pretty extensive, and confirms everything I already knew—that he and I are eminently compatible. The only problem is that we’re never both available at the same time. Is that fate’s heavy way of hinting?

“Yo, where’s the cake?” Derek’s question rings through the living room and kitchen, interrupting Cora’s oral dissertation. David’s younger brother has a loud voice and knows how to project it.

“Trent and David are bringing it,” says Jan’s aunt, Sun, as she walks in briskly. A yellow knit top and cream-colored slacks fit well on her slim frame, which I attribute to her Italian, French, Chinese and Korean genetics. I mean, I’ve seen her eat, and I know she doesn’t exercise more than an hour a day. “It took forever to bake it, so I’m not carrying it.”

Although she has an MBA from Wharton, she doesn’t work. As far as she’s concerned, that’s her prerogative as a modern feminist. So instead of climbing the ladder at a Wall Street investment bank or hedge fund, she stays home, manages the household, and cooks like a dream. If she had the ambition, she could’ve been like Martha Stewart, but that’s apparently not her thing, either.

Her two sons follow her in, carrying a huge triple-tiered cake covered with pearlescent pink frosting, accented with white chocolate orchids.

“I thought you didn’t like baking,” Cora says, eyeing the pastry art.

“I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m not good at it,” Sun says. “Besides, Jan’s the first one of you to get engaged.” She stares at her sons meaningfully. “I’m certain she’ll be the first to have children, too.” A sniff follows. It’s no secret she adores babies.

Over the next half-hour, all ten cousins and their parents arrive. Matt’s lawyer parents and sister show up as well, and Alexandra welcomes them warmly into her home.

We put up the rest of the metallic pink, silver, and gold decorations and balloons. Jan’s uncles get the meat ready to be barbecued outside, all of them jockeying for the prime grill—the biggest one in the middle. Michelle pops in about ten minutes before Jan’s due. Alexandra’s other guests are to come about five minutes after Jan and Matt’s arrival, mostly because David pointed out there’s no way Jan and Matt wouldn’t know what’s going on with all those fancy cars crowding the streets.

“I don’t know how you planned it like this. What if their flight was delayed?” Michelle says.

“Endless optimism, my dear,” Alexandra responds with a small smile. Being extra sneaky, she asked Jan and Matt to come by before heading home, claiming she had something important to give them. And since Jan adores her grandmother, she said yes, especially since Alexandra doesn’t live that far from the townhouse anyway.

“They should be here soon. Their plane landed early.” Alexandra gestures at Derek. “Cut the music. Everyone, grab a popper.”

We wait in silence. It doesn’t take more than a couple of minutes before we hear a car pulling in. I can’t help but grin.

When Jan and Matt open the door and walk in, we all pull the strings on the confetti poppers and yell out, “Surprise!”

Alexandra, being in the front of the crowd, is the first to hug the couple. “Congratulations, my dear.”

“My God. I had no idea,” Jan says, her eyes bright.

“Thank you, Alexandra.” Matt hugs her, then places a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Come on! You have to show us the ring!” Michelle gestures at Jan.

We surround the couple, and Jan shows off her ring. It’s a stunning piece, with diamonds arranged to look like a sunflower in full bloom. It suits her perfectly—not only is she a sunny person, but she loves sunflowers.

Kathleen—the model cousin—puts a hand over her chest. “Oh my God, this is amazing.” She turns to Matt. “Commissioned, right?”

He nods with a small grin, then presses a kiss on the top of Jan’s head.

“I couldn’t be happier for the two of you.” I hug Jan then Matt.

“You guys are setting a seriously high standard,” Michelle says as she hugs them after me.

“I’m probably going to be single for life unless I get a dog,” I joke, admiring the ring.

“No, you can’t,” Jan says, laughing. “I want to be your maid of honor at your wedding. It’s in the best-friend contract.”

We all start giggling.

The first set of non-family and best friend guests arrive. I look up, then pause as Beau and Patrice Madison walk in.