The Paid Bridesmaid
Sariah Wilson
CHAPTER ONE
“Bride or groom?” I asked the top of a man’s head, plastering on my “hi, I’m sociable” smile.
He sat in a chair, texting on his phone. He was young and tall, had dirty-blond hair, and was this side of rude if he couldn’t be bothered to make small talk at this event.
The man also didn’t have on a name tag. Why couldn’t people follow simple directions and make life easier for everyone?
“Bride or groom?” I repeated.
“I’m neither one,” was his wry response and I only just refrained from injuring myself with an eye roll so massive it could be seen from space.
“I know you’re not the bride or groom. I was asking if you’re here with the bride’s family or the groom’s family.” Wasn’t that obvious? Was I losing my touch for making small talk at weddings? This welcome brunch was the first event of many and I was supposed to be making nice with everyone. Instead I was trying to reel in my sarcasm.
Then he glanced up at me and it was like the time when I was eleven years old on a school field trip to a petting zoo and a goat had headbutted me in the stomach.
He was fantastically attractive. Dark-green eyes, a jawline that could have cut glass, shoulders that seemed to span miles. He wore his obviously expensive suit like it was a second skin. Wow.
I drew in a shaky breath, willing my heart rate to return to normal.
That he was giving me an appreciative once-over did not help out with my current pulse problem. Especially since it felt so strange. It had been a long time since a man had looked at me that way because I put out such strong “do not disturb” vibes.
I wondered if he was imperceptive or just didn’t care. He said, “I’m here with the groom. I’m the best man. Camden Lewis.” He slid his phone into his pocket and offered me his hand. I hesitated a moment before taking it. I was already having an inappropriate physical reaction just to the way he looked; I couldn’t imagine touching him would make things better.
Camden Lewis. I knew that name because I’d done my research. He was the groom’s best friend, and the CEO of their tech company. They’d been friends since childhood, and although Sadie had shown me a picture of him, I suppose I’d been more focused on the job ahead than how attractive Camden would turn out to be.
His large hand wrapped around my palm and I nearly sighed from the tingly pleasure of his skin on mine.
Then I realized an embarrassingly long amount of time had passed and that I was still holding his strong, firm hand and hadn’t told him my name yet. I was making it weird. I quickly let go and said, “Rachel Vinson. Maid of honor.”
“Rachel?” he repeated, looking puzzled. “I’ve never heard Sadie mention you before.”
That was because until a month ago the bride, Sadie Snyder, and I had never met. I told him the backstory I’d prepared for this wedding. “We’re old friends. We went to summer camp together in New York when we were kids and have stayed in touch all these years.”
His “hey, you’re cute” look disappeared when he asked, “Really? Which one?”
“Which one what?” What was he asking me to specify? People never followed up once I’d offered my false explanation of how I knew the bride. I reached up to make sure my modified french twist was in place. It was like a piece of my armor, a way to feel professional without drawing attention to myself, but something about talking to this man made me feel a bit undone. As if a bit of that armor were slipping.
“Which summer camp?” he clarified.
“Oh. Camp, um . . .” Krista, my friend, employee, and fellow bridesmaid, had chosen a camp name that at the moment I was totally blanking on. Or maybe my brain was just distracted by the magnetism he seemed to be emitting. As he stood there staring at me politely, clearly expecting a response, I thought back to the airplane ride where Krista and I had been discussing the poor state of airline snacks and how she had mentioned the name, and the answer came back in a rush. “Oheneya. Camp Oheneya.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
Given that it was made up, I didn’t expect that he would. “It’s a tiny family-run place. I think it closed down a few years ago.”
That puzzled look was back. “And Sadie went there? To a sleepaway camp? Aren’t those usually expensive? Dan mentioned that she didn’t have any money growing up.”
That would be Dan Zielinski, the groom. Who presumably knew Sadie better than anyone in the world. I fixed my fake smile back on my face. She should have mentioned her upbringing to me when we were coming up with our backstory. I’d told her there couldn’t be any surprises.