The Worst Best Man(29)

Pru was discussing the merits of a sexy chignon when she abruptly cut herself off. Her blue eyes going wide in the mirror. “Here I am yammering on and on about my hair and you’ve just come back from a tryst with Aiden! What kind of a friend am I?”

“The best. You’re the best kind of a friend, Pru,” Frankie lamented. “You’re a wonderful person, and you deserve all the happiness in the world.” She had to tell her. If she were in Pru’s shoes, she’d want to know.

“What’s wrong?” Pru demanded, whirling away from the mirror. “You look like you’re gonna cry.”

Frankie let herself slide backwards into the tub. “Before we talk about Aiden, we should talk about Chip.” How in the hell was she going to explain to her best friend that she didn’t call the cops, didn’t kick the door in and drag Chip home? That she was the worst friend in the world.

Pru got a soft, faraway look in her eyes. “I can’t believe I finally get to marry him, Frankie. I just… I love him so much. He’s funny and sweet and kind and smart, and he looks like a Ken doll. But when I look at him, I can see us fifty years from now. Chasing grandkids, hosting parties, summering in the Hamptons with our huge family.”

Pru clasped her hands together and sighed. “He’s everything I’ve been dreaming about since I was five. I have my dream dress, my best friend, and I get to marry the man of my dreams in paradise.” Her eyes glistened with tears.

“Don’t cry, Pru,” Frankie pleaded. At least not before she’d told her the shitty part about having an MIA fiancé.

“I can’t help it.” Pru dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I’m just so happy. And that’s what I want for you, Frankie. I want you to find someone who makes you feel like you’re flying. Someone who makes you look forward to the next fifty years.”

“I can’t focus on the next fifty minutes let alone years,” Frankie teased.

Pru crossed the bathroom. It took about ten minutes given the expanse of marble between them. She perched on the edge of the tub and toyed with her veil. “I think Aiden will be that for you,” Pru confessed.

Frankie smacked her head off the back of the tub. “Ow! What?”

“I know you two got off to a rough start—”

“The man called me a stripper!”

“After the engagement party, he asked Chip a thousand questions about you.”

“Maybe he wanted to find out where I dance and if I give BJs for an extra fifty,” Frankie shot back.

“He picked you up from the airport. I saw the way he was looking at you during dinner. Like he wanted to eat you instead of what was on his plate. And then he whisks you away? Don’t think for one second that just because I’m getting married tomorrow that I don’t want every single detail of what you two have been doing for the last five hours.”

Frankie rubbed the bump on the back of her head. “Let’s get back to this getting married thing tomorrow for a second. How upset would you be if something happened and you couldn’t?”

“Couldn’t what? Get married tomorrow?”

“Yeah. What if something… came up?”

“Franchesca Baranski, a mother-fucking hurricane could blow over this island leveling every building on it tomorrow, and I would still be marrying Chip.”

Ah, hell.

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen. You’ll understand this once you and Aiden really start getting to know each other,” Pru said, patting her arm. “Chip and I lost each other after college, and I was devastated because I knew he was the one. I never stopped believing that. Not once in all those years. And we found our way back to each other. We’ve paid our dues. That separation was heart-breaking for me, for him too. So we are going to have a magical day tomorrow because we deserve it. I deserve it,” her voice cracked.

Frankie grabbed her friend’s hand. “Of course, you deserve it. I know that Chip is all you’ve ever wanted, and you’ll have him. You’ll have your perfect guy on your perfect day. I promise.”

Pru nodded, her veil rippling. “I should text him! Text him and tell him how much I love him and can’t wait for tomorrow! Oooh! Or I could call him!”

“Uhhh—”

But Pru was already scampering back to the vanity for her phone.





Chapter Sixteen


Frankie: Pru thinks we made out for five hours tonight. Also, she’s texting and calling Chip to tell him how excited she is about tomorrow. In about thirty seconds, she’s going to start to panic.



Aiden: I’ve got it covered.



Frankie wanted to reach through her phone and strangle him. Or at the very least punch him in his smug “I’ve got it covered” face. She was just debating whether or not to bite the bullet and tell Pru everything when Pru’s phone signaled a text.

“Is it Chip?” Frankie asked, aghast. Was Aiden really that good?

“No. It’s Aiden,” Pru said, beaming at her phone. “He said that Chip is sound asleep in his suite, and he didn’t want me to worry that Chip wasn’t returning my texts.”

Pru hugged her phone to her chest, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of happiness. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”