Showing up was definitely in my wheelhouse.
Sadie had apparently told Dan the same thing—she’d asked that he not let things get out of hand, because the camera crews would be there. He had told her not to worry because he didn’t even want to have a bachelor party. He’d said, “Why would I want to celebrate my last day of being single? All I want is to be your husband and I can’t wait for that to happen.”
I may have sighed happily when she told me that. I’d heard that the men planned on having a nice steak dinner with cognac and playing some poker.
Most weddings I’d been involved with had a rehearsal dinner the night before, but Sadie told me she wasn’t interested in her mom and stepdad having to sit at the same table for any length of time. At the reception they were going to be seated separately, something she could get away with there and wouldn’t have been able to at a rehearsal dinner. It sounded like a good plan to me.
I also spent my day wishing that Camden would call me. Or stop by. I kept an ear out for his door, my gaze drifting repeatedly to our shared wall, but I never heard him return to get ready for the bachelor party.
Deciding this was beyond pathetic, I got ready myself, keeping the bathroom door shut and the fan on. For good measure I turned on some music on my phone just so that I wouldn’t know if he was back.
I picked out my favorite red cocktail dress for the party and was in the midst of putting my hair up when I stopped, almost hearing Camden’s voice telling me to have fun and not take myself so seriously. I could be professional and still have a good time. I wouldn’t need my armor tonight, so I left my hair down.
And if I was going to admit it, I was hopeful that his quarter had landed on heads and that I’d see him after and he’d get to appreciate it.
I made my way down to the bar and saw one of the camera crews in a corner, talking among themselves. I found Krista sitting in a chair near the door, waiting for me.
She grinned when she saw me. “Your hair’s down! It looks pretty. You did that for a boy.”
Feeling embarrassed at being caught out, I said, “I did not. I’m not even seeing Cam—any boys tonight.”
“You almost said his name!” she told me in a singsong voice. “Because you like him and yes, you did do your hair that way for him.”
“What are you drinking?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.
“The bartender got out champagne.” She held up her flute.
A waitress came over and asked me what I’d like, and I told her I was fine. I’d order something when the other girls appeared.
It took a few minutes, but Mary-Ellen and Sadie came down together, their arms linked. There were hugs and air kisses exchanged and the manager of the bar approached us, leading us to the private table they’d set up for us. It had a bunch of finger foods—things like kalua pork sliders, shoyu chicken kebabs, grilled pineapple.
It was delicious and I didn’t even care that somebody was filming us eating. This food was worth it.
The waitress brought over a tray with more champagne flutes. To my surprise, Sadie took one. “It’s a special occasion!” she declared. “Only don’t let me get too far gone. My wedding is tomorrow.”
“How do you define too far?” I asked. I was happy to be her babysitter tonight if that’s what she needed.
“If I start dancing on tables, definitely cut me off,” she said, reaching to clink her glass with Mary-Ellen’s and Krista’s.
Krista held up her glass for the toast and said, “May we have so much fun that we don’t even notice how annoyed the other bar patrons are!”
I’d thought the bar would shut down for the evening, but it was still open to other guests. Given the looks I was seeing already, we probably were going to annoy our fair share of people.
“Can I get a soda? Something lemon-lime?” I asked the server and she promised to be right back with it. I figured it was better to order a drink that had no chance of being accidentally spiked.
“Do you know how bad those are for you?” Mary-Ellen asked. “Artificial sweeteners eat holes in your brain. It’s basically death in a can.”
The fact that she said this unironically while munching on buffalo wings and potato skins and drinking champagne as fast as they could bring it to her was not lost on me. The server returned with my soda and I carefully drank the entire thing in front of Mary-Ellen, just to spite her. It was a spite Sprite.
As we ate, at the director’s urging, Sadie recounted how she’d met Dan in Rome. He’d been there for a tech conference and she was there to do a photo shoot and they met at a restaurant after she dropped her napkin and he returned it. They spent the rest of the night talking and walking the romantic, moonlit streets of Rome.