The Paid Bridesmaid(19)

“Birthday, huh?” Camden asked. “We should celebrate.”

“Yes!” Sadie glommed on to his suggestion. “We should! We don’t have anything scheduled tonight and we can just invite the entire wedding party and celebrate a day early. I’ll find you later, Rachel, and we can go over the details. Come on, Mom. We’ve got lots of people to talk to.”

When they walked away Camden immediately said, “Now I know why you couldn’t tell me how old you are. Because it’s changing tomorrow.”

“Yep.” I wanted to add, That must be the reason why. You figured it all out with your brilliant sleuthing, but I refrained.

“Is there anything you want for your birthday?”

You.

My pulse was frantic, my head buzzing, all staticky, because I did not know if I’d said that word out loud or in my head. When his expression didn’t change, I sighed, relieved that I’d managed to at least hold on to my dignity. “How about a break from your interrogations?”

“I’m not interrogating you.”

I let out a smothered sound of disbelief. “Yes, you are. There’s been a couple of times where I felt like I should be asking you to adhere to the Geneva Conventions.”

He laughed and it was just as thrilling the second time. “I think I can do that.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Brandy had ditched Sadie and was headed for the bar. Time to intervene.

“It was great talking to you”—not—“but I have some stuff I need to do.” I stood up.

“Of course.” He stood up, too, and took a step forward so that he was totally encroaching on my personal space, but my body did not care. It was far too delighted at our proximity.

I swayed toward him but then forced myself to turn and walk away. This was getting to be too much. None of my plans where Camden was concerned seemed to be working out. I was getting sucked in even though I knew better.

You have a job to do, I reminded myself.

Brandy was getting angry at the bartender, who was offering her one of their many soft drinks. “That’s not what I want!”

“He’s been told not to serve you,” I said, keeping my voice low and calm.

She sneered at me. “By who?”

“Me. I’m here to make sure you don’t ruin Sadie’s wedding.”

There was a fleeting expression, one that almost looked like guilt or regret, but then the anger returned. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Right. But I’m still going to keep an eye on you.” Sadie would have her perfect day.

“I’m not some kind of alcoholic!” she declared before marching off. I probably shouldn’t have been so harsh with her, but she reminded me so much of my mother’s sister, who had repeatedly declared she wasn’t an alcoholic, either, before she died from liver failure. I tried to shake off my own memories, telling myself this wasn’t about me and my family issues. This was about protecting Sadie. I noted that Brandy was keeping clear of her ex-husband, so I was two for two so far.

“You must have drawn the short straw.” A woman had appeared at my side and smiled at me sympathetically. She seemed vaguely familiar.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m Mary-Ellen’s mom, Brandy’s sister. My name is Mandy.”

I introduced myself and then started to ask, “Are you two—”

She cut me off. “No, we’re not twins. My mother was just unimaginative. And my sister’s a handful, so thank you for helping to keep an eye on her.”

I nodded. “It’s too bad she can’t keep from drinking for a few days.”

“It is too bad. We had a rough childhood. Our mom was an alcoholic, too. Brandy is suffering from the delusion that she’s not nearly as bad. That she has her drinking under control. I’ve tried talking to her, Sadie’s tried, Geoff tried, but nothing seems to get through. She doesn’t believe us.”

I wished I could do something more to help. “I’m sorry. That can’t be easy.”

She cleared her throat. “Thanks. We keep trying and hoping.”

“I know Sadie really wants her here and to be sober.”

“That’s part of growing up with an alcoholic parent. You’re angry with them and resent their choices, but at the same time you want their love. You want them to choose you, to be more important than getting drunk.”

That struck me as unbelievably heartbreaking. “I’m here to help. Let me know if I can do anything.”

“Same here. I’ve been dealing with this for a very long time and I’m kind of an expert.” Her voice sounded bleak, at total odds with her peaceful expression. “Let me give you my number. In case you need it.” I put it into my phone and then texted her, so she’d have my number, too. When I was finished, Mandy smiled at me and said, “It was good to meet you.” She walked away.

It made me so sad for Sadie, but I didn’t want to be distracted by my sympathy for her. So instead I found a spot to keep an eye on all the players I had to worry about in this game—Camden was talking to a man with black hair I hadn’t met yet, Mandy was sitting with Brandy, and Geoff and Maybelle stayed as far away as they could.

Everything was calmer than I’d anticipated. From what Sadie had told me and what I’d witnessed, I’d half expected a drunken Real Housewives–type brawl. But they all seemed to be on their best behavior. I was thankful for it.