Always the Last Word (Always the Bridesmaid #4)(22)

       
         
       
        

And then there's Grant. I obviously can't discuss Adam with him. Hell, I barely talk to Grant these days.

"Whether or not I like him doesn't matter," I say as I walk around the mannequin, making small adjustments to the dress as I speak. "If he doesn't feel anything toward me then-"

"He likes you," Jamie cuts me off mid-sentence.

"You haven't even met him."

"I don't have to. You talk about him all the time. Evie, the dude is into you. The snowball fight, his interest in your project with that ridiculous show at the theatre. You're my friend and even I can barely keep my eyes open as you drone on about the costumes for Jane Eyre Up in the Air."

"It's Jane Eyre and the Atmosphere," I correct her. "And, hey! I don't drone on about the costumes."

"Yes, you do, and it's fine. Mainly because I know that my time management system is working out for you." Jamie smiles up at me. "The point is. Adam likes you. And you like him. Now you just have to admit it to each other."

"I'd rather work at Kohl's on Black Friday," I mumble, shuddering as I imagine my own personal version of Hell.

"So, what? You're just going to keep tap dancing around each other, not admitting your feelings? You know how that ends, right?" When I don't respond, she smiles. "It ends with you two having sex somewhere you shouldn't because you can't take the tension any longer. It may be the alterations room here at the shop. Maybe the kitchen of his bakery. Maybe it's in the green room at the theatre on opening night."

"The theatre doesn't have a green room," I say with forced effort. My mouth has gone dry. "It's a small theatre and the, um, the wardrobe closet is the closest thing in size to an actual green room."

Every word sounds like a dying sheep's bleat. Jamie is grinning like a cat that just ate a canary.

"What I'm hearing is that you've thought about the logistics."

I know that my face is red clear into my hairline. "No. I mean, yeah. But just now. Because of you. You're a monster with binder dividers and a label maker."

"Yeah, and this is what you get for ratting me out to my cousin, Jess. Now I have to babysit on Saturday night and you have to confront your feelings. We're all suffering, okay?"

Note to self: never wrong Jamie Valentine ever again.



***



"You look calm," Rachel says as she walks into my apartment and, no, she didn't bother to knock.

"I am calm," I assure her as I slide two pieces of material through my sewing machine. I've been at this for hours. Slap two pieces of fabric together. Run them through the machine. Measure, cut, repeat. It's therapeutic and just distracting enough to keep my mind off other things. Like Adam. And my feelings for him. And things that we could do in the costume closet at the theatre. 

"I wasn't done. You look calm but also like you're going to explode. It's freezing in here. How are you sweating?"

"What's up, Rach?" I ask as the last bit of fabric goes through the sewing machine. I turn the machine off and sit across from her on the couch.

"A lot of things. I got a call for an interview."

"What? That's awesome!" I smile but it immediately falls. "It's awesome, right? Because you look like you just drank spoiled milk."

"The job's in Austin," she spits out. And then immediately burst into tears.

"Okay, it's okay," I say as I hug her. "It's going to be fine."

"How is it going to be fine? It's in Texas!" she bleats. "It's in Texas and I live here and so does-" She doesn't get the words out for her wailing.

"Have you talked to Carter about it yet?" I ask once her tears begin to ebb.

She shakes her head. "No. I didn't want to fight with him until I have a job offer. Besides, he's never going to want to move to Texas."

"I like how you spit out the word Texas while you live in Kentucky, like this state is a mecca of culture and tolerance," I say. When Rachel narrows her eyes at me, I use my caring voice. "Is the job something you want? Enough to shake up your life and move to Texas? You know they have scorpions there, right?"

She laughs a little at that. "Yeah. It's an amazing job. I'd be coordinating social media for one of the biggest music festivals in the country. I would be doing some graphic design and web page work too. I'd work with artists and musicians and people that have been in the business since the internet took off. I'd be crazy not to want the job, scorpions and all."

As she talks more about the job, it becomes obvious that she will accept the position no matter what. I'm glad for her. She's my best friend, and she deserves every happiness. I can't help but wonder what this means for her and Carter and their wedding, though. Because she's right; Carter will not want to move to Texas.

"You need to talk to Carter," I say, cutting her off as she describes the job's benefits package.

"It's not that simple," Rachel says. "There's a lot going on and, I don't want to get anyone panicked when all I've had is one phone interview."

"You don't think Carter's already in a panic about the state of your relationship?"

"It's not Carter I'm thinking of."

I raise an eyebrow. "Do you mean me? You're my best friend. You moving won't change that fact. And, hey, I've never been to Texas. If you move, that will give me a reason to visit. And your family will be stoked for you. Your parents are always traveling. Didn't they buy an RV last year? They'll love driving that to Texas to visit."

Rachel squeezes her eyes shut. She does not want to say what she's on the verge of saying and, at this point, I'm certain that I don't want to know what she's about to say either. But I egg her on just the same.

"If this isn't about me or Carter or your family, who is it about? Your grandma?"

"Hank."





Chapter Twenty



Hank. My brother.



       
         
       
        

My best friend doesn't want to move away because of my brother.

My best friend that is engaged to a man she has been in a relationship with for six years is in love with my twin brother.

I don't know who I'm angrier at: Rachel, Hank, or myself for introducing them freshman year of college.

Rachel and I sit in silence for at least ten minutes after she tells me that she loves my brother. She waits patiently for me to digest the information. I roll everything around in my brain. The mystery woman that Hank has been seeing has been my best friend. The meetings for odd jobs that Rachel has been going to have been secret rendezvous with my brother.

I hate them both.

Only, I don't hate them. Hank has been in love with Rachel for years, and he's finally getting his wish to be with her. And, as much as my brother annoys me, I know that he's a genuinely good person, and I'm happy for Rachel.

But you know who else is a good person? Carter. Rachel's fiancé. The guy she's been with for the past six years.

And I've circled right back around to anger.

"How could you do this to Carter?"

"I didn't mean for it to happen. And, technically, I never cheated. Every time I met with Hank, we were innocent. Always public places. That was our rule. We knew that if we were alone, we would-"

"Please do not finish that sentence," I beg her. "This is my brother we're talking about."

"I'm sorry," she says, and she means it. "And not just about Hank. I shouldn't have kept this from you."

"You shouldn't be doing this in the first place. It doesn't matter that you haven't fooled around, you're still cheating. And you definitely shouldn't be doing this especially when you have a fiancé that loves you."

"I know."

"And you shouldn't be stringing my brother along either. I know that he's an adult and can make his own choices, but you and I both know that his clarity gets a little fuzzy when it comes to you."

"I'm not stringing Hank along. He knows that I'm trying to work things through with Carter."

Rachel runs a hand through her hair and she is so stressed, that I'm surprised that chunks of hair don't fall out into her hand.

"What do I do, Evie?" she looks at me, and I suddenly notice how much weight she has lost. This ordeal has taken its toll on her, and my heart breaks for her. And Carter. And Hank.

"You know what you have to do. You have to end it with Carter or end it with Hank."

She nods. "But how?"

"No idea. I'm not a harlot that gets herself into these kind of messes," I say, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. It just makes Rachel sob again. "Sorry." 

"Why are you apologizing? It's not like you caused this whole mess," she says as she curls into a ball on the couch. "I need to apologize to you. I'm getting you in the middle of a mess. Hank's your brother, Carter is your friend, and you hate Adam less than you once did. And now you know all this and …  if I get this job, you may have to move with me and start a new life." She tries to make it sound like a joke but she's crying so hard that it sounds as if she's been led to her execution.