Without a Hitch(10)

Because your biggest, deepest wish is to be loved for who you are. Scars and all. My sister’s voice rings in my head. Unfortunately, it may sound like her, but it’s my fear of never being enough that has the words lancing my heart.

Olivia steps away from the bar. “Fine. I’ll see you all tomorrow, but don’t expect me to be happy about it.” She glares at me, then back at the group. “And I wouldn’t be caught dead at the reception anyway.”

As soon as she’s out of sight, the maybe-bride closes in on me, her eyes unblinking, and she doesn’t speak right away. She watches me with an intensity that has my cheeks heating.

“Ah, are you the bride?” I’m suddenly nervous that Bridezilla will show her teeth because I definitely overstepped. I grab my wineglass for liquid courage and take a giant gulp.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I am.” She nods emphatically, but a huge grin appears on her face. “I’m Jenna. You just handled my stepsister in a way I never could. How did you do it? And more importantly, will you do it again?”

“Ah, sorry.” I giggle nervously. “I’m not in the habit of interrupting sibling rivalries. Plus, I doubt she’s coming back tonight. She was pretty pissed.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Her eyes plead with the girl on her right. The two of them have a silent conversation I recognize can only happen between sisters. Their expressions go through a myriad of feelings, then they turn on me with so much excitement I fear they’ll explode. “I want to hire you for the rest of the weekend.”

I laugh nervously and place my wineglass on the bar. I’m going to need both hands to hold me up for this. “Hire me for what, exactly?”

“Whatever you want to call it, but I need a bridesmaid babysitter. I’ll pay ten thousand dollars for you to be in my wedding, all expenses paid, and all you have to do is attend the rehearsal dinner tomorrow night and the wedding on Saturday. I’ll literally pay you to keep Olivia in check.”

I gape at Jenna. Surely, she’s joking, but as I stare at the bride's hopeful smile and kind eyes, I know she’s one hundred percent serious.

“I’ll pay you in cash if that helps.”

“Jenna, you don’t even know me. Why on Earth would you want me in your wedding?”

“Because Olivia is a bitch who has ruined every good thing I’ve had in my life since my father married her mother when I was six years old. I can’t let her ruin my wedding too.” Her lip quivers, and my arguments fade.

Lifting both hands, I rub small circles around the migraine that’s trying to form in my temples. I sneak a glance at their table, expecting it to be littered with champagne bottles, but it’s not. It’s empty.

“Have you been drinking?” There must be a reasonable explanation for her outrageous offer.

“I don’t drink. Please…” She cuts off with a slight frown. “Oh, what’s your name?”

I answer with a heavy sigh that promises a long night ahead. “Tilly. My name is Tilly.”

“Tilly. I like that. Please be my wedding fixer. I really, really need you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Fifteen thousand.”

“No, it’s not…” Am I breathing loudly? It sounds like I’m breathing loudly.

“Twenty thousand.”

Is this girl insane? Who just has twenty grand lying around? But as I sit in the swanky Dorrety Hotel bar, memories of the Westbrooks fill my head. People who stay in these kinds of hotels have that kind of money, Till. I swallow painfully.

“You want to pay me twenty thousand dollars for two days of bridesmaid-sitting?”

“Yes. I do. My stepdad is a lawyer. He can draw up a contract for you tonight. I’ll even make sure he doesn’t use too many lawyer-y words, so it’ll be just a straight-up agreement we can both sign.”

Oh my God. Am I really contemplating this? My computer screen flashes with my blog header, and Jenna doesn’t miss it. Her eyes gleam with excitement.

“Is that your blog? Love in the Lobby?”

I try to hide the flinch. My blog is successful because I remain anonymous. “Do you know it?” I ask cautiously.

“I do. I freaking love it. I wish you’d done a post on this hotel before we booked it. OMG! Is that why you’re here? Never mind.” She answers her own questions, talking so fast my head spins and I can’t keep up. Or reply. “I’ll tell you what. Twenty thousand dollars, and I’ll promote your website on all my social media accounts for an entire month after my honeymoon. I have over two million followers.”

Holy shit.

“Wow. Okay, let me think a minute.” She offers me a radiant smile. “My blog is completely anonymous. It needs to stay that way for me to get the inside scoop.” I’m whispering now, but no one around us is paying any attention.

“Done. We’ll give you a fake name.” She gives me a once-over. “We’ll call you, hmm… We’ll call you Abby Chambers for the wedding. How’s that?”

A pseudonym. A wedding. And a crazy bridesmaid with a potentially crazier bride? Sign me up.

Twenty grand would be a huge jumpstart for my—my what? A career that shall remain nameless for now, I guess. But this could also help launch my blog to the next level too.