To Have and to Hold (The Wedding Belles #1)(33)

Which she was guessing was most people, knowing how difficult the man was to please.

Brooke gave Stacy a little shrug as though to say, “What can you do?” and then followed Maya down the stairs, past a fascinated-looking Marietta and into the cold winter afternoon.

Only when they’d descended the steps did Maya slow down and turn around. She put a hand over her mouth and let out a startled little laugh, and just like that, she was back to being sweet, pleasant Maya. But the fact that she had some steel beneath all those soft curves made Brooke like her all the more. Especially since Maya had used the ice-princess routine for all the right reasons: to put an outright snob in her place.

“Can you believe her?” Maya said.

“I’m so sorry,” Brooke said. “I promise the others won’t be like that.”

“Oh, stop.” Maya waved her hand as the driver opened the door for them. “You had to show it to me, of course. Blanche is the best, and I did say I want the best, just . . . not like that, you know?”

Brooke slid in beside Maya. “You lied about not having referrals, didn’t you? I’m guessing you must have friends who got their dress there.”

“Oh, dozens,” Maya said. “And their dresses were gorgeous, but the whole thing in there just didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like me.”

“What does good feel like for you?” Brooke asked, hoping to finally be able to get a read on what Maya was looking for.

Maya sighed. “I . . . is it weird that I don’t know?”

Brooke smiled. “Not at all. Plenty of brides are surprised to realize that daydreaming about a hypothetical wedding is a lot different from planning an actual wedding.”

“But it’s not just the wedding,” Maya said, sounding a bit tired. “It’s . . . everything.”

“Explain?”

Maya touched a hand to her forehead. “Do you think . . . do you think it’d be okay to skip the rest of the dress appointments? Or are we on a short timeline?”

“No, of course that’s okay,” Brooke said. “We have plenty of time, and you haven’t even set a date yet, so everything can be as flexible as you need it to be.”

“Not everything,” Maya muttered, staring down at her hands.

Uh-oh. Brooke knew that voice, and it was not the voice of a bride with wedding stress. It was the voice of a woman who was feeling a bit lost.

“Maya. Do you want to talk?” Brooke asked gently.

Maya glanced up. “Yes, actually. I would love that. What do you say we exchange the wedding dress shopping for a glass of wine?”

“A fabulous trade,” Brooke said.

Maya rolled down the window of the partition between them and the driver and directed her chauffeur to a wine bar over on the Upper West Side.

Twenty minutes later, Brooke and Maya were seated at a cozy high top near the window, armed with a glass of sauvignon blanc for Maya and a class of cabernet franc for Brooke.

“So what’s going on with you and my brother?” Maya asked with a mischievous smile.

The question was so unexpected that Brooke didn’t quite have a chance to come up with an evasion. “Hmm? Oh, um. Huh. Nothing, really. Why do you ask?”

Maya laughed. “I knew it. You two totally have a thing.”

“No, no thing,” Brooke said quickly.

“Right. So you’re telling me you’re not seeing him later to report back on this meeting?”

“He told you that?”

Maya snorted. “Of course not. Grant did.”

I’m sure he didn’t tell you I’m supposed to spy on your fiancé. Brooke tried to divert the conversation back to Maya. “Tell me about Grant.”

Maya’s blue eyes narrowed just slightly. “What do you mean?”

Brooke took a sip of her wine, keeping her face neutral. “I’m just curious about him. He’s ridiculously likable.”

“Oh?”

Brooke didn’t think it was her imagination that Maya’s gaze went just slightly guarded at Brooke’s comment, and somehow she was very sure that this—Grant—was exactly what was causing Maya’s cold feet.

“Did you two ever date?” Brooke asked casually.

“No!” Maya looked horrified. “Why, did he tell you we had?”

“Why would he tell me you had if you hadn’t?” Brooke asked, tilting her head in confusion.

Maya pointed a finger in Brooke’s direction. “Oh, you’re good. You’re really good.”

Brooke winked. “I know.”

Maya heaved out a breath and took a sip of wine. “Okay, you want to know what went down with me and Grant?”

Brooke didn’t respond. She just waited.

“Nothing,” Maya said, slapping the table a little with her fingers. “Nothing went down. Not in the dirty way, not in the romantic way. It’s just he . . . we . . . I always thought that . . .”

“That you’d be more than friends?”

“Yes!” Maya said gratefully. “I mean, I had a crush on him for most of my life. He was my older brother’s best friend, you know?”

Brooke nodded. “Classic.”

“Exactly. It’s a classic, and I always waited for that moment where he’d do what he was supposed to do and wake up and see me differently. As a woman, instead of as Seth’s little sister.”