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Chapter Forty-Two

By the time dawn broke Sunday morning, Kate had finally managed a solid eight hours of sleep, unlike the rest of the wedding guests. They’d worked in shifts through most of the night, cleaning out the ballroom where they’d held the rehearsal dinner and salvaging what furniture they could from the sunroom to erect a makeshift altar and seating arrangements. There was at least a quiet sense of peace as Kate slipped downstairs to hunt down the last container of coffee. She boiled the coffee on the stove, stealthy as a CIA operative, and made two mugs before sneaking upstairs on her final mission before the ceremony.

“Is that coffee?” Spencer asked as she slipped into his room, his hair an absolute mess and his eyes so red they looked like a cartoon drawing. He sat in a wingback chair beside a crackling fireplace, providing some much-needed heat to the room. He looked at the mugs in her hand with big puppy-dog eyes. “I will never bother you about another Loretta novel again if you give me one of those right now.”

Kate smiled, holding out one of the mugs. “I have good news on the Loretta front. I mapped out the whole book this morning and knocked out the first five chapters. And I brought you your T-shirt. I figured the bride shouldn’t be the only one who gets something old and something new.”

Spencer took a grateful sip, not even bothering to scrunch up his nose at the terrible powdered creamer Kate had found in the pantry. “You finally did it, huh? After all these months, Loretta is back. Simon will be happy to have the series on track again.”

“About that,” Kate said, sinking down in the chair opposite him.

Spencer frowned as he flipped through the opening chapters, looking slightly less corpse-ish as he sipped his coffee. “You’re not killing off Loretta, are you?”

“Not exactly,” Kate said, tapping the outline. “Read the rest.”

Spencer scanned the outline, his frown deepening. “Loretta becomes the target of a mob hit after her best friend—who is apparently an FBI informant—lies to the mob and claims that Loretta is the actual informant? A little bit of art imitating life, huh?”

“You could read the mob as an allegory for a wild cougar, sure.”

“Have you been to see her this morning?” Spencer asked.

“I tried,” Kate said. “But in an ironic turn, she is refusing to see me . Which is just as well, all things considered. There’s nothing I have to say to her that can’t be said through three inches of Plexiglas and an unflattering orange jumpsuit.”

“Hang on,” Spencer said, flipping to the last page of her handwritten outline. “Loretta has to go into the witness protection program at the end of the book to survive? I don’t understand. Where do you see Loretta going from here? This sounds an awful lot like the end.”

“That’s because it is the end,” Kate said tentatively. It was the first time she’d said it out loud since the idea occurred to her, and the rushing sense of relief and grief that followed the words nearly overwhelmed her.

Spencer blinked slowly, his gaze steady on her. “What’s that now?”

Kate took a deep breath, struggling to put into words the revelation that had been haunting her since she’d mapped out Loretta’s last book that morning. “All this time, I’ve been using Loretta as an escape hatch from dealing with my own life. She got to be all the things I never thought I could be. But in creating her, I ended up holding myself back. I could make Loretta fix all the things I thought I got wrong, but I never learned how to fix them myself. I think Loretta was a crutch, and I want to learn to walk on my own again. I don’t want to ask what Loretta would do, I want to know what Kate would do.”

“But…” Spencer looked about the room, lost. “What will you do without Loretta? What will I do without Loretta? I can’t imagine my life without… her.”

He looked at Kate then, so much meaning in his eyes. She smiled softly, reaching across to pat his hand. “Me either. But it’s time, isn’t it? For both of us.”

“I’m going to fuck it up,” Spencer said, shaking his head.

“Oh, you definitely are,” Kate agreed, laughing at the look he gave her. “Don’t worry, I fully intend to as well. I’ve already left Jake alone with Serena, which feels like leaving a beautiful gazelle to roam with a cougar lurking about.”

“What was that like?” Spencer asked. “I really do think Jake blew out Marla’s eardrums with that horn.”

“Let’s just say it’s cured me of the desire to ever go hiking,” Kate said.

Spencer let out a breath, toying with the shirt in his lap, his glasses slipping down his nose. He pushed them up, fidgeting with the arms to get them to stay. “So, you and Jake, huh?”

“I don’t know what will happen with Jake,” Kate said, smiling. “But I want to find out.”

“I think he’s good for you.” Spencer looked up at her, blinking. “I knew he liked you. I’d seen it whenever the three of us got together to work on the Wandering Australian books. I just… I liked you, too.”

“It all worked out the way it was supposed to,” Kate said, standing as someone knocked softly on the door. “Speaking of which—”

She swung the door open and Jake stood there holding up a garment bag, looking fresh as a daisy despite helping with the arrangements through the night. Spencer frowned, hugging his coffee mug closer to his chest.

“What is that?” he asked.

Jake grinned. “The only clean suit left on the island. Apparently, it belonged to the late, great Russell Hempstead.”

Kate tugged the zipper open to peer inside. “Oh, good news. We found your something borrowed and something blue.”

The ceremony was small, quiet, and quick, as if everyone had agreed to get it over with as quickly as possible. But the power stayed on, the storm finally past, and Kennedy and Spencer were married as warm yellow rays of sunlight streamed through the glass dome of the ballroom. Kennedy was radiant in a makeshift gown someone had pinned together from leftover tablecloths, draped over her like an elegant toga. Kate figured she could get married in a literal potato sack and still be the loveliest person in the room. Spencer managed his best in his borrowed powder blue tuxedo, his glasses smudged and his hair in disarray. But his smile was genuine. Tears prickled the corners of Kate’s eyes as Spencer’s cousin declared them man and wife and Kennedy threw her arms around his neck to kiss him enthusiastically.

“You all right?” Jake asked, putting his own arm around her and pulling her in close.

“I think I’m as all right as I’ve ever been,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Wait until you’ve seen the wedding reception fare,” Jake said. “Abraham had to make do with island rations. I’ve never seen so much Spam. I don’t know what Aunt Rebecca was preparing for, but from the looks of it, a nuclear apocalypse was only the start.”

“Poor Rebecca Hempstead.” Kate sighed. “Such an inglorious end for the Queen of Wall Street. Though, I suppose it’s better than getting shredded by her archnemesis.”

“Speaking of Fluffy,” Jake said, turning to her as the other guests filed out after the bride and groom. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her in with a sly smile. “I never got my reward for rescuing you from the cougar.”

“Reward?” Kate said, tilting her head and frowning. “I don’t remember there being discussion of any kind of reward. Can you remind me, maybe? Of the terms?”

“Oh, I’d be happy to,” Jake said, dipping his mouth toward hers.