Esta é minha irmã, Stephanie.” Steph recognized the two women
as two of the bridesmaids. She smiled at them slyly. They smiled back as if she had her camera out.
“Show off,” she said, taking a seat across from him.
She sat and ate her dinner in silence as her three table mates
spoke to each other in rapid Portuguese. She wanted to shake
both of the girls like castanets and say “he’s a man of God, you little whores!”, but she suppressed her instincts. She searched the crowd for someone to talk to, but Cheyenne and Scot had been
dancing together for 45 minutes straight, and they appeared to be in the middle of an intense conversation. She heard the familiar sound of Phillip’s laugh and instinctively turned toward it. He
looked comfortable and dashing in a light grey suit coat with the top three buttons of his white silk shirt unbuttoned. His short hair drew extra attention to his rugged, square jaw. Little Liam was
dragging him around the patio by his arm. As Phillip scooped the 78
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toddler up in him arms and tossed him high into the air, Steph
realized she’d never seen him interact with a child. He seemed to be enjoying the experience, and frankly, he looked like a natural.
She frowned and blinked wearily. She really needed another
beer.
Nathan appeared at her side while she waited for the bar-
tender. “Stephanie bloody Brier, it’s about damn time you
showed your face!”
“Nate! Hey!” She gave him a hug and went to ruffle his
short hair. “You chopped it off!”
“Don’t mess with perfection.” He dodged her hand and
turned to the statuesque blonde at his side. “I’d like you to meet Saffron.”
“Hello.” Steph looked up at the rail thin woman who tow-
ered over Nathan in 4 inch heels.
“I’ve heard so much about you.” Saffron’s smile implied
that she’d heard quite a lot more than Steph was comfortable
with. With her severe platinum bob and long false eyelashes,
Saffron looked like someone straight out of an Austin Powers
movie. Steph shook her hand.
“I can imagine.” Steph replied sardonically, sipping her
fresh beer. It was perfectly chilled and tasted like ambrosia.
“We heard we missed your reunion with Phillip. I’m so dis-
appointed.” Nathan’s droll tone caused Steph to smile in spite of the context. “Glad to see everyone still has all their limbs.”
“Yes. Too bad someone misbehaved on the plane ride here.
That needed to be taken care of promptly. And it took much
longer than I thought.” Saffron concurred. Nathan grinned from
ear to ear, and Steph slowly turned her head to look at Saffron to see if she was joking. It appeared she wasn’t.
“OOOOOkie dokie.” Steph murmured, taking a much long-
er drink of her beer.
“Well, we kept getting interrupted. Nothing’s quite the
mood killer like Cheyenne and Scot having a screaming match.”
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Steph shot Nathan a disbelieving look, and he laughed. “No,
sweetie, they didn’t join us! They were in the next bungalow
having a spat. You’re so perverted.”
“So tell me Stephanie, are you a natural redhead?” Saffron
asked, her eyes traveling the length of Steph’s neckline.
“Sure am.” She glanced at Nathan as if requesting back up.
“I don’t see any freckles…” Saffron said coquettishly and
turned to Phillip who happened to be passing by, “Tell me, Phil-
lip. Does Stephanie’s carpet match her curtains?”
“Not sure. She’s a big fan of waxing.” He volleyed back
without missing a beat. Steph blinked at him in surprise as he
plucked a glass of champagne off a passing tray and kept walk-
ing. Nathan and Saffron laughed, and then Saffron emitted a
pained groan.
“Uh-oh. That fat bridesmaid is hitting on Bret again.” Saf-
fron whispered. Steph saw a curvy Latina chatting Bret up. He
seemed pretty pleased with the situation, which made Steph un-
comfortable.
“Where’s Sarah?” she snapped. Nathan bit his olive off its
skewer, and Saffron sipped her mojito. “Alright. What did I
miss?”
“She ditched him days ago. No one knows why.” Nathan in-
formed her.
“We’d better go save him from himself.” Saffron insisted,
setting down her glass and taking Nathan by the hand. With a
half-assed wave, they vanished into the crowd without another
word.
Making a mental note to call Sarah, Steph left the bar and
found a quiet corner seat at the far end of the building by the
couches. She didn’t want to look conspicuously lonely and was
contended to drink in solitude. A loud squeal of pleasure startled her, and she nearly spilled her beer.
“Stephanie! Oh my God! I’m so happy you came!” Yara’s
high-pitched voice and terrible pronunciation of the English lan-80
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guage typically made Stephanie laugh, but tonight was just an-
noying. The exotic bombshell’s hazel eyes flew wide. “Oh no!
Did Phillip make you upset? Why are you hiding in the corner?”
“Everything’s fine, Yara.” Steph shot David a “save me”
look. David looked glassy eyed from a day of drinking and
shrugged at her.
“Was the dinner good? Did you eat yet? David, she needs to
eat. Go find someone to bring her a plate.” Yara railed at David, who suppressed a yawn.
“It’s okay. I ate. Calm down. Come sit down and tell me
about the ceremony.” Steph managed levelly, pulling out her
IPad and waving the waiter over for another beer. With a wide-
eyed “you asked for it” look, David wandered away.
“I’m so sorry about blowing up at you earlier. I don’t mean
to pressure you.” Scot held her close as they danced to the soft guitar music.
“It’s all right. I hate fighting with you.” Cheyenne nestled
closer to him. She did love making up, though. She rarely fought with Scot. He had a natural talent for diffusing tension, so they rarely got into a shouting match.
“I just want to make you happy, Cheyenne. I feel like we’ve
been growing apart with the deadlines and whatnot. I hate it
when we’re not connecting.”
She nodded and cautiously met his eyes. “Me too. But an-
other baby isn’t the answer. More ‘us time’ is. We need more
family time, too. “
“Not likely with the Asian tour. But I feel better knowing
you’ll both be there.”
“I know.” She sighed, hoping the rest of the band would try
to remember there was a baby on board.
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“Liam’s going to love seeing the dolphins tomorrow.”
