Page 4

Four

J ulia wiped shower steam from the guest bathroom mirror. Hello , dark circles. She woke up, like, eleventy billion times after last night’s Carson encounter. She’d been rude to him, yes, but for once, that wasn’t what spiraled in her uncooperative brain.

Nope, he deserved zero politeness from her.

The thing that kept her spinning was the question her mother’d asked him as Julia melted away from the party.

Why don’t you stay in the pool house tonight?

Carson Fucking Miller was right there. Twenty yards away.

She shouldn’t care, but tell that to her twisted brain that had allowed him and his tempting smile and bright green eyes to invade her dreams. During her 2:00-a.m. wake-up, she’d set up a finsta to stalk his profile undetected.

Yep, as suspected, the pics were proof that he was still a huge dudebro player.

Argh.

After the stalking, she’d turned to wedding research, then whoops, it was sunrise. With her hair wrapped in a towel turban, she read the Positively Productive app’s affirmation for today out loud from her phone.

“I let go of my fears, anxieties, and negative thoughts.”

She’d embraced cacti more easily than this affirmation.

It was corny, but her grad school mentor recommended she say nice things to herself in the morning.

To speak to herself the way her best friend would.

Her older sister was as close as she came to having a bestie, but she wouldn’t talk to herself in Alex’s voice.

Alex usually offered stellar affirmations like, Are you bleeding? No? Then get the fuck on with it.

Negativity was Julia’s default mode, which was what made her good at her job. Anticipating problems and resolving them before they became catastrophes was a good thing. Nobody wanted to be around a constant bummer, though. She was working on it.

Julia roughed the towel around her head, slipped on a casual sundress and a light cardigan, then padded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mom sat at the island, scrolling through her phone.

“Morning, Mom. Any coffee?”

“Plenty in the pot.” Her mother clicked off her phone. “I picked up the yogurt you like, and there’s fruit in the bowl. Did you sleep well?”

“Eh.” She yawned. “It takes me a day or two to acclimate to the time zone.”

“Belize will be easier since it’s Central time.”

Julia slid onto a rattan-topped stool at the island. “We’re really doing this in Belize? You could have a great wedding here in LA.”

“And invite everyone we know?” Her mother sipped her coffee. “No thanks. An intimate wedding in Azul Caye is what I want. I hear Carson will help with the details. Isn’t he a sweetheart?”

No, he’s a jerkwad.

Julia clutched her mug. “I don’t know him well enough to say.”

Her mom grinned as she sipped. “That’ll change while you two handle the wedding details.”

No it fucking won’t.

“About the details…” Julia opened the Positively Productive app to capture the details for this event. “Are we talking menus or flowers or favors…photography?”

Her mother nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”

“Yes, which?”

“Yes, all of the above.” Mom lifted a shoulder. “I’m not a planner, but things always seem to work out.”

Julia’s neck stiffened. Things always worked out because everyone else picked up after Mom.

As the person who became the planner in the family at the age of twelve, the do-er who was desperate for everyone to relax, hospitality was an inevitable career choice.

If she handled the logistics for everyone else’s good time, she might as well get paid for it.

“Does Alex know we’re about to descend on her?” she asked.

Mom rolled her eyes. “We’re not descending. We’re her family .”

“Well?” she prompted.

“No, she doesn’t.” Mom avoided eye contact with her. “She’d take the news much better coming from you.”

Mom was right. Big fucking sigh. Julia hated being in the middle of her mother and sister, but she’d do it if it meant keeping her remaining family connected.

“I’ll call her after breakfast,” she said.

“Thanks. We’ve been talking more lately, and I’d rather not set us back. I always put my foot in my mouth.” Her mother rose from the island. “Sure you don’t want breakfast? I could whip up scrambled eggs and toast. You’re grumpy when your tummy’s empty.”

“Mom, I’m not a toddler.” She was kinda snacky. Last night, after talking to Carson, she’d lost her appetite and missed out on the delicious nibbles circulated at the party.

She slid off the stool to pluck a yogurt from the fridge.

“No one said you were, sweetheart. By the way, I booked our flight for tomorrow. It’s early, but that’ll give us more time with Alex if she can tear herself away from work.”

The yogurt in Julia’s spoon wobbled. “Tomorrow?”

“No time like the present. Boots on the ground will be best.”

Julia jabbed her spoon into the yogurt. “If I’m planning this thing, you can’t make big decisions like this without talking to me first.”

“Don’t be silly, Julia. The flight was available, so I bought the tickets.”

Goddammit. Her whole life, Mom had dropped decision bombs on her like they were no big deal. Guess what? Dad and I are splitting up. Big news! We’re moving to the US. See that man over there? We’re getting married!

Surprises were unwelcome. Discussions and plans were preferred.

“What if I had a hair appointment tomorrow?” she asked.

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

“ No , but I could have.”

“And you could also book an appointment in Belize. Oh, that’s a good idea.

” She jotted a note on the pad attached to the fridge, right next to a picture of Julia and Alex from Julia’s high school graduation.

“I should freshen my color before the big day. If that’s okay with you, my darling daughter? ”

Sarcasm ran deep among the women in her family.

“That’s fine. Your hair, your clothes, your song—those are up to you. Everything event-related is strictly my domain, okay?”

“And Carson’s.”

Julia’s eye twitched. “Yes, and Carson’s. Promise me you won’t make any wedding or reception decisions without talking to me first?”

Mom leaned against the counter and swept her gaze over Julia. “That grad school turned you into Ms. Bossy Pants.”

“I’ve always been like this. Grad school helped me see it’s a soft skill prized in hospitality.” She finally swallowed a mouthful of yogurt. “Now promise.”

“Okay, okay.” Her mother held up her hands. “I won’t do anything without checking with you first. You’re in the driver’s seat.”

Exactly where she preferred to be. “Thank you.”

She scraped the yogurt tub.

“So.” Mom leaned forward. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“What?” Julia coughed. That was out of left field.

“Alex seems quite happy with her boyfriend. Have you met him?”

“Over video chat.”

“Me as well. I can’t get a sense of who he is, but your sister seems smitten. What about you? Should your invitation include a plus-one?”

Time to shut that shit down.

“Nope. Too busy with my master’s, working, internships, and networking.”

That was the truth. But even if she was dating someone, she’d rather lop off her pinky finger than discuss her love life with her mother. Mom had a tendency to ask graphic and tactless questions about circumcision and whether Julia had ever heard of tantric sex and edging.

Things Julia never wanted to talk about over yogurt. Ever.

Mom shook her head. “I swear, the way your generation prioritizes your careers…”

Julia rinsed the yogurt container. “Oh, you mean gaining financial stability to live my life independently instead of relying on men’s generosity?”

Shit. She’d barfed that right out, hadn’t she?

When she’d moved them back to the States, Mom’s full-time job and personal-shopper side hustle had earned enough to cover the basics. Her romantic partners’ financial support determined the style in which she lived. And Mom liked to live well.

“Sorry,” Julia said. “That was rude.”

“But not wrong.” Her mother winked.

This was Mom’s best and worst trait—criticism didn’t stick. It used to rile Alex that Mom had no shame about her love of money in her romantic relationships. Secretly, Julia admired that her mother gave zero fucks about what other people thought.

“Perhaps it’s for the best you don’t have a boyfriend,” Mom said. “Other single young people will be at the resort.”

Julia tossed her yogurt container into the recycling bin. “Great. I’ll have a vacation fling. Mind if I call Alex to warn her about our impending invasion?”

“It’s less of an invasion and more of a surprise party. Would it hurt you to look on the bright side of life, Julia?”

She was trying to be an optimist, truly. Well…more like a realist. She pursed her lips. But what was so wrong about acknowledging no one sprinkled pixie dust to make life magically pan out the way she wanted?

“I’ll work on it,” she said.

Julia took her coffee to the back patio, then carefully settled herself into a poolside upholstered lounger. Brr. The early-morning air was cold enough to cause a little nippage. She tugged her cardigan around her, then called her sister.

“Hey, Jules,” Alex said. Something loud thumped in the background. “Shit.”

“Oh my gosh, are you okay?”

“Fine. A kayak slipped out of the tow trailer.” Alex grunted, clearly multitasking while they chatted. “How was the party?”

“Nice.” Except for the presence of Carson Fucking Miller. She’d skip that part, lest it inspire a big-sister lecture on what she should do, say, or feel. “Jim’s nice. He might actually stick around for a while.”

Because that was how her life worked.

None of Mom’s other boyfriends came as a package deal with her high school nemesis, so naturally the one who did would be her mother’s forever and always person.

“Mom does seem pretty happy these days. We’re fighting less. Bummer her happiness is dependent on her relationship status, but that ship has sailed. Mom’s gonna Mom.”

Julia wouldn’t get a better doorway to deliver the destination wedding news to Alex.