“This is it, Kris. It’s over. I’ve lost.” I was sitting on the second queen-sized bed in Krista’s hotel room. I’d lied to the interrogators; Krista didn’t need my help. We did have a few last-minute things to handle, but Krista was capable of folding the twenty-two silk handkerchiefs we’d had embroidered with Swarovski crystals in the pattern of my company logo on one end and the Dupree family crest on the other as gifts for the wedding party.
“You can’t lose what’s meant for you,” Krista said, tossing a folded handkerchief into the basket on the floor between the beds.
“Guess I was wrong, then. Guess Ian isn’t meant for me,” I said, tossing another handkerchief into the basket. “It was my last chance at fate. Maybe my real fate is to be alone—always planning a wedding . . . never a bride.”
“Rachel, you’ll find someone. I don’t care what that old myth says about wedding planners. The man—your dream man—is out there. He’ll find you. You’re a wonderful woman,” Krista said, and I know she was only trying to comfort me; but due to the present circumstances, it sounded like a bunch of baloney people tell you when you’re the last person to cross the finish line.
“There are only so many more times I can stomach hearing that from someone when I’m still single,” I said. “If I’m such a wonderful woman, why aren’t I getting married? Why hasn’t my dream man come? If I’m so wonderful, why am I all alone? Sitting here in a hotel room talking to you?”
“I didn’t think I was such bad company,” Krista said sarcastically.
“If I’m so freaking wonderful why won’t the entire universe get behind and support me, even fucking conspire for once in my whole damn life to give me the one thing I want? The one thing I ask for? True love?” I said and tossed the handkerchief I was folding onto the bed beside Krista.
The hotel-room phone rang loudly and boldly on the nightstand. And it wasn’t odd for it to ring. The hotel staff was always calling our rooms the night before weddings with final questions and suggestions. Still, for some reason, Krista and I looked at it as if we’d never seen a phone before. Neither one of us moved until the third ring.
“It’s probably just the manager,” Krista said, rolling over on her bed to get the phone. “Some of Scarlet’s relatives are coming in tonight from Miami. I wanted to make sure they were escorted to dinner.” She picked up the receiver. “Hello?” She nodded. “Yeah. It’s me.” She looked at me like it was President Obama on the other line. “No problem. She’s right here. Hold on.”
“What? Who is it?” I whispered.
She took the phone from her ear and held her hand over the receiver. “It’s Ian. He wants to talk to you.”
“What?” I mouthed.
Krista held the phone out to me as I returned her wide-eyed stare.
“Hello?” I kicked up my voice a few notches, trying not to sound as depressed and dramatic as I had seconds earlier.
“Hey, Rach. What’s up? You’re not answering your phone.”
“It’s on,” I said, walking over to my purse. “Did you call? Need anything?” I pulled the phone from my purse and saw that it was on silent. I’d turned the ringer off at the rehearsal dinner. I had two missed calls and three texts from Ian.
Krista followed me around the room, trying to lean her head into the phone to hear what Ian was saying.
“I want to see you. Tonight. Before I go out with the guys.”
“Tonight?” I repeated, making faces at Krista.
“Yeah, I just want to talk about some stuff that’s been on my mind. Some things about us.”
“Us?”
Krista mimicked my wide mouth.
“Yeah. Can you meet meet me?”
“Meet you?” I asked.
“Yeah. At the Pier.”
“Meet you at the Pier?”
“Yeah. At 9:00 PM.”
“At 9:00 PM?”
“Work?”
“Works.” If I’d had any urine in my bladder it would’ve trickled down my leg and hit the floor. I handed Krista the phone and stepped back from her, covering my mouth. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard.