Jessica Meyers.
“I’m so sorry, Brian, but I have to take this,” she said, standing up so quickly she bumped the table and spilled some water. “Just give me one minute.”
She hustled out of the dining room to the dim, overdecorated entryway, where rope lines awaited the dinner rush, and answered the call just before it went to voice mail.
“Hello,” she said, trying to quiet her breathing.
“This is Jessica Meyers,” said the familiar voice on the other end. “I got your message.”
“Obviously.”
“I have a question for you: Whose idea was the Revelate?”
The question was so startling and unexpected that Holly momentarily lost track of her surroundings. Jessica was not pleading her case or staking a claim to Jack. Instead, she was asking about something that went back a decade and had implications far beyond the marriage of Jack and Holly Wright.
“Why are you asking me this?” Holly finally asked.
“Because I need to know what’s true,” Jessica said. “And what isn’t.”
Also completely unexpected. She still didn’t want to answer, because the woman had already taken too much from her and knew too much about her. Had made her—Jack’s wife!—into the other woman.
Then again, it sounded like Jessica was waking up. And if so, who was Holly to withhold the truth?
“I had a patient, an eight-year-old boy whose leukemia wasn’t detected until it was too late,” Holly said, remembering Preston Gaertner’s freckled face and wide blue eyes. “It was a hard day. I was talking to Jack that night, and I said I wished I had a diagnostic tool that could catch cancer before my patients even knew it could hurt them. Something as simple as a chewable vitamin, so everyone would use it.”
“Then why does Jon—?”
“If you want to know more, you’ll need to hear it in person.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
LARK
When you’re happy, they’re happy.
—“How I Lied about My Name and Discovered My Truth,” a TED Talk by Jon M. Wright
The first day they’d spent in bed, making love, dozing, ordering room service, and listening to music while she tried to get her head around the fact that she was engaged. None of her close friends had gotten married, and she hadn’t even been to a wedding since she was a teenager. The whole idea seemed so strange and old-fashioned. And exciting. She felt like she was holding a ticket for a trip around the world, but she didn’t know the route.
Though she had spent a lot of time thinking about long-term relationships, she had literally never pictured herself as a bride. The fact that Trip wanted to take that step with her felt—and she couldn’t think of another way to put it—like an honor.
Several times throughout the day she was overcome with a fit of giggles. Shaking herself out of it, she thought, I can’t believe it.
That night, they went to the bar, and when a friendly couple nearby asked them what they were doing in Palm Springs, Trip had politely shut them down before leading Lark back to the firepit.
“Today is just about us,” he said. “I’m not sharing you with anyone.”
The second day was similar except that Trip started picking up his phone again. He texted and emailed with such intensity that she finally had to ask.
“Is everything okay?”
“Work,” he groaned. “I’ve got deals in two different places and stages, and I thought they could all survive a few days without me. I thought I’d empowered everyone sufficiently, but maybe I didn’t get the job done.”
“Or maybe you’re irreplaceable,” she said, dropping her paperback on the rumpled sheets and rubbing his back.
He locked his phone and set it facedown on the nightstand. “I’m certainly one of a kind.”
She was more than happy to help him take his mind off the constant churn of investment and oversight by walking her fingers down his back, along his side, and inside the waistband of his pajama bottoms.
“On the other hand,” he said, sucking in a sharp breath, “there’s more to life than work.”
The third day, he seemed even more distracted, more tied to his phone. She’d been waiting for him to announce their next move—a ride on the aerial tramway? a museum visit?—but if they were going to be married for however long, she saw no reason he had to do all the travel planning. So.
“Time to go,” she announced.
He looked startled. “I figured we’d stay here a few more days.”
“That’s fine, but not in this room. We have to let them change the sheets and clean the bathroom, at least.”
He leaned across the table and kissed her. “You’re right. We shouldn’t stay cooped up.” A short while later, they were hiking along a trail in Palm Canyon, shaded by the leafy fronds of towering palm trees. The green cleft in the parched hills was a perfect reminder that they were truly in an oasis.
“So what kind of wedding should we have?” she asked, squeezing his hand.
“What kind of wedding do you want?”
“The smaller the better.”
“Perfect.”
“But not, like, at the courthouse. And definitely not in Vegas.”
“No.”
They stopped to watch a small bird flitting around the canopy, then waited until some faster hikers passed them before continuing on. The air was so clean and the scenery was so beautiful that Lark suddenly knew exactly where she wanted to get married.
“Hawaii,” she said.
Trip’s face lit up. He obviously liked the suggestion.
“And I want my parents to be there. My mom still has family on Oahu, and it’s perfect, because that’s where they met.”
“I love it,” he said.
“And Callie, too. I want her to be my maid of honor. I’m guessing most of my friends won’t be able to afford to come, but that’s okay.”
“The smaller it is, the more perfect we can make it,” he said. “I’m happy to fly your parents and Callie out.”
“God,
