Ashley
MEANDERING THROUGH WHOLE Foods is a sensory experience. The well-lit bakery section boasts utilitarian aluminum stands filled with thousand-grain breads and ginormous muffins; less than a foot away, two plexiglass-covered cases display rows upon rows of mouthwatering cookies. And the aromas. God, the aromas. If the scent of fresh-baked bread were bottled as a perfume, I’d spritz it on my wrists every day.
I close my eyes as I sample the cherry hand pie. The filling is thick and tart, and the flaky, buttery crust melts on my tongue. “Oh, that’s so good.”
Beside me, Tori laughs. “People are staring, Ashley. Perhaps you and your cherry hand pie should consider getting a room.”
“Ha.” I motion for Tori to get her own bite-sized portion. “You’ve got to try this.”
She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. The curls that aren’t stuffed under her royal blue baseball cap swing around her shoulders. “No, thanks.”
“Oh, c’mon.” I bump her shoulder with mine. “It’s filled with ingredients even a personal trainer would approve of.” Bending over, I read the card next to the platter. “Eggs from cage-free, non-GMO-fed hens and unbleached, unbromated flour.”
“What’s bromated flour?”
I shrug. “I have no idea, but whatever it is, it isn’t in these babies.”
Ignoring me, she reaches into a bin and pulls out a loaf of hearty bread dotted with seeds. Frankly, it’s what I imagine French bread would look like if I slathered it with butter and rolled it on the forest floor.
“I’m not a fan of cherries,” she says. “But I’ll take some of this home.” Then she peers into my empty basket. “Aren’t you buying anything?”
I purse my lips and shake my head. “At these prices? No way. I plan to sample my way to a satisfying lunch and hit the Vons I passed on the way here.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls me toward the hot and cold salad bar. “Let’s grab some food. My treat. We can eat in the dining room.”
After grabbing a literal pound and a half of food, I follow Tori upstairs to the indoor café. We toss our bags on an empty chair and sit across from each other at a table overlooking an underwhelming view of the produce department. Below us, a bawling toddler throws her back out in a fit that reminds me of the snippy airline passenger I dealt with last week. The child’s mother is not amused, and a showdown is imminent. My money is on the kid.
Tori wrestles open the lid of her container and sighs heavily.
My gaze snaps to her face. “What’s wrong?”
She drops her shoulders and pokes around at her food. “I feel bad that you left last night. I’m sorry if Carter and I made you uncomfortable. Again.”
I wave away her apology. “Oh, Tori. Don’t worry about it. You guys deserved an evening on your own. It was no big deal to spend the night at Julian’s.”
Well, it was a big deal, but not in the way Tori might expect. My mind replays the moment when I saw his trim waist and bare chest. Somehow, I manage to stifle a moan and attack my lunch instead.
“What was that?” Tori asks.
Fork in midstab, I look up and pretend not to see her narrow-eyed gaze and knowing smile. “What was what?”
She purses her lips in the universal don’t give me that bullshit expression. “That look. When you mentioned Julian. Like you were hot and bothered.”
“Hot and bothered? Tori, honey, I’m embarrassed for you. Delete that expression from your brain. Also, it might be time for prescription glasses. You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”
She tilts her head and shakes it. “No, my vision is crystal clear, so spill.” She scoots closer to the table and leans in. Realizing a juicy secret isn’t immediately forthcoming, she sits back and pouts at me. “Oh, c’mon. Isn’t this the benefit of having a sister-in-law? Another person to share your closely held secrets with?”
“You’re not my sister-in-law yet,” I grumble.
Her face falls, and all I want to do is kick myself in the shins. Don’t be a brat, Ashley. You know she’s right. This is exactly the benefit of having a sister-in-law. I break out into a conspiratorial smile. “If you must know, I’ve had a crush on him for years . . . but that’s all it’ll ever be.”
“Why?”
We’d need all day to parse out the reasons, starting with the most important one: I’m not even sure Julian’s all that interested in me. There’s more, though. Lots more. “Dating my older brother’s best friend would be awkward. Period. And Julian’s his agent, too. Imagine what would happen if it worked out between us? How that might affect Julian’s decision-making? What he’d feel comfortable telling his own girlfriend? And if it didn’t work out? Yikes. I know he’s already uneasy about representing Carter. A failed relationship with me would send him into a tailspin.”
Tori makes a big show of pondering my answer, her lips smacking together as she slowly chews on a spear of broccoli. When she’s done, she daintily dabs her lips with a napkin. “Interesting that you mentioned a relationship. I was just talking about you looking hot and bothered. Which makes me wonder. Is this a crush . . . or something more serious?”
My cheeks warm under her scrutiny. It can’t be anything more serious. I know where Julian’s first allegiance lies, and it isn’t with me. I might come second to Carter in just about every aspect of my life, but I’m not interested in setting myself up to be second best in my own love life, too. “It’s a crush, of course.”
“But do the same reasons apply, then, if you’re just messing around?”
Now she’s speaking my language. “Okay, yes, I’ll confess to being super curious about what he’s like in bed. I mean, the man is hot, in a strong-and-silent type of way, and the idea of satisfying that curiosity . . .” I fan myself and blow out a breath that ruffles my bangs. “Good thing we’ll be living together for a bit.”
Tori’s eyes grow big as saucers. “What? Since when?”
I shrug and slather a pat of butter on my roll, pretending this development isn’t making me giddy with anticipation. “Last night he offered to let me stay in one of his guest bedrooms. Until I figure out a permanent living situation. And I accepted.”
Tori returns the conspiratorial smile I gave her minutes ago. “Well, that should be interesting.”
“It should be something, all right. We’ll either kill each other or spend the foreseeable future in bed.”
“Julian?” Wearing a half smile, she shakes her head. “Don’t hold your breath on any sexual marathons. As far as I can tell, the man lives and breathes his job. He’d fit you in between six and seven in the morning and again from eleven to midnight.”
“It’s true. I don’t recall him ever mentioning a girlfriend, and believe me, I’ve asked. Even my few attempts to ferret out information from Carter turned up nothing.”
Tori nods. “Same.”
“Eh. So we’ll go at it before dawn and the witching hour. I’m good with that.”
“I wish you nothing but luck and sex-by-appointment.” Then, with a toss of her hair, she sets aside her food, leans in, and pins me with a stars-in-her-eyes gaze. “Carter and I have news, too.”
Holy shit, she’s pregnant. I scan her face for clues to her condition, but I don’t know what the hell I’m looking for. A glow? Bags under her eyes? Besides, who’s to say she’s far enough along to show any signs?
She gives me an exasperated sigh and bops me on the nose. “I’m not pregnant, Ashley.”
“Oh.” I give her a sheepish grin. “So what’s the news?”
She leans in another inch. “Carter and I are getting married.”
I can’t suppress the duh expression that crosses my face. “Yes, I know.”
“No, I mean we’re getting married at the Williamson Family Reunion.”
I draw back. Now I’m the one who’s confused. “The reunion in three weeks? What? When? How?”
“On Sunday. The closing brunch isn’t just a brunch. It’s a wedding. But only a few people know. My parents. Your parents. A close friend of your mother’s who’s a local caterer and who’s also sworn to secrecy.”
“Mrs. Chapman.”
“Yes, that’s her.”
I sop up the sauce from my chicken curry dish. “Why the rush?”
“It isn’t a rush, really.” She picks at her fingers as she explains. “If we could have married a year ago, we would have done it in a heartbeat. But things were too hectic with my move to California and the fitness studio opening. We’re ready now. And Carter and I wanted to avoid the paparazzi as much as we could.”
“And a reunion in Connecticut is your cover?”
“Well, we’re hoping that if any paparazzi find out we’re in Carter’s hometown, they’ll quickly become bored with the family-friendly activities and leave before the big day.”
These two sure know how to complicate their lives. If it were me and I had their means, I’d shuttle everyone to a remote island and get married on the beach—no shoes required. “Why not elope?”
Tori’s eyebrows disappear under her cap. “Because I don’t want to be disowned. It’s bad enough I’m not getting married in a church. My parents would never forgive me if I deprived them of a wedding altogether.”
“This could backfire, you know.”
“Of course it could. But trying to make this work is half the fun. You can’t imagine the planning that’s gone into this. If we pull it off, we’ll go down in the annals of supersecret celebrity weddings. One Hollywood couple invited their guests to a birthday party and surprised everyone with a wedding instead. We can, too.”
“And Julian didn’t balk? I would have assumed he’d want Carter to get all the publicity mileage he could from his own wedding. I can’t imagine any agent would be happy about it.”
Tori drops her chin and stares at the magazines on the table. A man nearby scrapes his chair against the floor as he stands, the sound not as jarring to me as Tori’s silence. My gut clenches. Dammit, Julian doesn’t know. He’s Carter’s best friend, for goodness’ sake. I stretch out my arm and place my hand over Tori’s. “You’re going to tell him, right?”
Tori nods, her eyes round and earnest. “Eventually, yes. And don’t pout.”
I curve my lips into a weak smile.
“Okay, sure, maybe in the back of our minds, we were worried he’d put on his agent hat and object, but that’s not the main reason we’re keeping him in the dark. We want to give him plausible deniability with Carter’s publicist. She’s the one who’s going to have a fit.”
It’s not all in Julian’s head, then. Being Carter’s agent does affect their friendship. Is that tough for him to accept? Is that the reason he’s so conflicted about his place in my brother’s life?
“Anyway,” Tori continues, “we told everyone to wear their Sunday best for the closing brunch, so whatever you were planning to wear will be fine for the ceremony, too. Don’t trouble yourself with getting anything special.”
I dig into my trough of food to avoid meeting her gaze. “Oh, that’s good, I guess.” Truth is, I hadn’t settled on an outfit because I hadn’t planned on attending the reunion. A three-night stay with my extended family isn’t my idea of a good time, and if my cousin Lydia is there, it’ll be a special kind of hell. Now that I know Tori and Carter’s plans, there’s no question I’ll be at the wedding. But only the wedding. Which means I need an excuse to parachute in for the nuptials. Oh, and I need to keep Carter and Tori’s secret from my new roommate.
I sigh on the inside. This isn’t going to end well, is it?