: Chapter 16

“ARE YOU SERIOUS WITH THIS?” Haisley asks as she pulls out the embroidered slippers that match her robe. She clutches them to her chest. “Maggie, this is such a sweet gift. Thank you.”

“Of course. I figured it would be nice for you to feel special. All my brides have them.”

“And the hanger for my dress. This is all too much.”

I shake my head. “Not at all. I hope you enjoy them.”

“I will.”

“This is quite darling,” Regina says as she takes a look at the hanger.

“Can you bring the slippers closer to the screen?” Haisley’s friend, Margie, asks, peering at us from Haisley’s phone.

Margie is hilarious. I can see why she and Haisley are best friends. I’ve only just met her, but she’s bold, says what’s on her mind, and also cares so much for Haisley. Even though Margie is on bedrest, she still sent over a gift for tonight, which included all the fixings for a raunchy bachelorette party. Penis necklaces. Penis shot glasses. Penis headbands. Regina was horrified, Sloane and Stacey loved it, Haisley just shook her head, and I mentally applauded.

Sometimes, you just have to go all in on the tacky bachelorette party and those are usually the parties that end up being the fun because you can just be ridiculous and no one cares. Not sure Regina—the oh-so-uptight one—is going to allow that to happen, but at least we have the penis shot glasses.

While Haisley shows the slippers off to Margie, I turn to Regina. “Is there anything I can help with for tomorrow?”

Regina shakes her head. “We have everything covered, dear.” It seems like a curt answer, but I’m not going to try to read too much into it.

“Wonderful. Well, if you need anything, just let me know. That’s what I’m here for.”

“We appreciate it,” Regina says right before she walks over to the drink station that the hotel staff set up on the beach for us. We’re under one of the family cabanas, surrounded by tiny desserts and drinks.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask Haisley.

“Let me grab one for you,” she says as she sets her phone against a large bottle of water, propping it up, and picks up a glass, surveying the liquor. I’m surprised they don’t have a bartender here, then again, it’s the Hoppers, and seems like they can do whatever they want at their resort. “Do you like rum?” she asks.

“I do. Love rum.”

“Great. I’m going to throw together a little something for you.”

She picks up the orange and pineapple juices and pours them into a cup, followed by cherry juice and coconut rum. She stirs it up and hands it to me.

“Consider it Haisley’s Island Breeze.”

“Careful,” Margie says over the phone. “Haisley’s drinks are stronger than you think. If you don’t watch out, you’ll end up with your underwear on top of your head by the end of the night.”

I chuckle. “Then the one drink it is.” I hold it up to Margie, toasting her through the phone.

“Smart lady.”

Haisley makes drinks for the rest of the group and then we settle on the lounge chairs near the lagoon. The twins share one, I share one with Haisley, and Margie is set up on her own so we’re in a little circle.

“These are good,” Sloane says, holding up her drink. “Maybe a little too good.”

“Keep it to one. Don’t be like me and think you can handle more,” Margie says.

“I’m not that heavy-handed,” Haisley protests. “And it’s not like we’re taste testing moonshine like the boys.”

“Wait, they’re taste testing moonshine?” I ask, my mind immediately going to Brody and what could possibly happen in that wild scenario. With his luck, anything. Maybe he’s going to be the one with his underwear on his head by the end of the night.

I sure hope not.

“They are,” Haisley says. “My dad set it up. I told Jude just to sip it. I don’t need him hungover on our wedding day.”

“Hopefully they all just sip,” I say, my worry starting to crawl up the back of my neck.

“I think that’s the point,” Haisley says.

“Jude never really gets drunk,” Sloane says. “I know we’ve never seen him drunk.”

Stacey shakes her head. “Never.”

“Now us on the other hand…” Sloane winces.

Haisley chuckles. “But you had Jude there to take care of you.”

“It’s why he’s the best big brother ever,” Stacey says.

“He seems very protective,” I say.

Haisley nods. “It’s one of the things I love most about him. He’s loyal. Protective. Honest. Just a beautiful, well-rounded man.”

“He is,” Margie says. “I could not have chosen someone more perfect for you. Maggie, you should have seen those two at first. They acted like they weren’t falling fast and hard for each other, but everyone knew…we could see the looks they gave each other.”

“You guys met on your San Francisco project, right?” I ask.

Haisley nods and stares out at the water dreamily. “Yes. He was my contractor. At first, he was so intimidating. He’s a large man and scared even the toughest of guys around him, but the more time I spent with him, the more I realized just how gentle he was.”

I press my hand to my chest. “That’s so sweet. Did you ever think you’d end up marrying him?”

Haisley shakes her head. “No. I honestly wasn’t even sure he liked me. He was very guarded.”

“Oh, he liked you,” Sloane says. “He liked you a lot.”

Stacey nods. “He was so unlike himself after meeting you.” She nudges her sister. “Remember when he started doing his hair before going off to the job?”

Sloane laughs. “Oh my God, yes. We have a mirror in the house right next to the door, and he’d check himself out before he’d leave.”

“Really?” Haisley’s cheeks blush. “That’s so cute.”

“It was also ironic given he had to wear a hardhat on site,” Sloane adds, and I laugh.

“You guys all share a house?” I ask, not quite understanding the dynamics of Jude’s family.

Sloane nods. “Yes, but now it will just be me and Stacey in the house, since Jude is moving in with Haisley. But they’re welcome back anytime.”

“It’ll be nice not having an overprotective brother looking over our shoulder every moment,” Stacey says.

“And I think you have me to thank for that.” Haisley chuckles.

“It’s one of the reasons we love you so much.” Sloane holds her drink up. “To Haisley brilliantly sweeping our brother off his feet so he stops bothering us.”

Chuckling, we hold up our drinks and all say, “To Haisley,” together.

BRODY

“If we could raise our glasses, please,” Reginald says as I lift the shot glass of pure gasoline in front of me. Yup, that’s what it smells like.

Not sure taste testing some local moonshine the night before the wedding is a great idea, but here we are.

“I’d like to make a toast to Jude.” Reginald clears his throat, one hand holding up his drink while the other grips the lapel of his suit jacket. “Jude, I know we had our ups and downs, and it took me a moment to realize just how perfect you are for my daughter, but I wholeheartedly trust you in taking care of her heart and making sure she’s never harmed. I’m proud to call you my son-in-law.”

Well damn, what a concise, but beautiful speech.

Especially for the masterful prick that he is.

“To Jude,” we all say.

I glance around the room and watch each guy take a sip of their shot, giving me the go-ahead to do the same. We’re talking a moment on the lips. Not even digesting any of this.

“What are you doing, McFadden?” I hear Reginald say as I start lowering my shot glass.

I stare at him for a second like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh…I don’t know.”

“Drink up,” Reginald says, waving his hand at me to tip back and guzzle down the gasoline.

“Oh, that’s okay, I thought I’d take it easy and maybe be the DD for you all. You know, make sure you get back to your place safely.” I say this in the hopes that he’ll forget about his wonderful resort staff that help him with everything.

“Nonsense. That’s what the staff is for. Now don’t waste the drinks I provided for you.”

Fucking great.

Of course he’d say that.

Of course he’d single me out.

Of course I have to drink this shit beverage and sprout at least twenty new hairs on my chest.

Beneath his severe gaze, I bring the shot glass back to my lips and part them ever so slightly, letting the moonshine run over my tongue and down my throat.

Mother of hell!

I pull back and cough a few times. “This is a sipper,” I choke out. “Yup, have to take it down slowly.”

And then…to my fucking irritation, I watch Reginald hand off his nearly full shot glass to the hovering waiter, not even bothering to finish it himself.

Care to share why you’re being a dick, Daddy Reggie?

“Ah, let’s bring on the next one,” Reginald says. “This has a hint of pineapple.”

I set the original shot glass down while Reginald looks away and shove it to the side, closer to Hardy. Make it seem like he didn’t finish his drink, not me.

More shot glasses are passed around, and we all hold them up. Together, we bring them to our lips. I watch as all the men gently take a taste. So, I follow suit, but when I lower the glass and catch Reginald staring at me, I internally groan and toss this one back, too.

“Saint Joseph save me,” I say as the liquid burns like fire all the way down my throat. I’m not even fucking religious, and I don’t know who Saint Joseph is, or even if there’s a Saint Joseph who could possibly save me. But either way, if he is a thing, please…please save me, because dear God in heaven. I don’t think I’m going to have tastebuds by the end of this night.

“That was pretty good,” Jude says.

Probably because your testosterone levels are so high, you don’t understand what one hundred-proof alcohol can do to a man like me.

It actually makes me sprout pubic hair.

“Not a fan,” Hardy says.

“Me neither,” I say as a soft pretzel is placed in front of me.

Thank God.

I pick it up and take a large bite from the center. Carbs, I know we’ve had a tumultuous relationship in the past where I thought you were giving me love handles and I cut you out of my diet. But I’m begging you to please do what you’re supposed to do. Please help soak up this alcohol and make it so I don’t puke in front of these men again. Amen.

“McFadden.” The sound of my last name being called across the table is like a knife piercing my ears.

Mouth full of pretzel, I look up at Reginald whose eyebrows are pointed in anger.

I swallow and say, “Yes?”

“That pretzel is to be shared with Hardy.”

I glance over at Hardy who’s chuckling. “Oh shit…sorry, dude.” I stare down at the half-massacred pretzel and try to tear away the untouched bits. “You can have this part.”

“It’s fine, I’ll order another one.” He leans in close. “Seems like you’re going to need it more than I am.”

I think everyone at the table knows I’m going to need this pretzel.

Even the waitstaff.

MAGGIE

“You woke up Reginald?” Margie asks over Haisley’s phone as she holds her trusty water bottle close. While we’ve been sipping our cocktails, she’s been sipping her water. She’s had several bathroom breaks as well. I would too if I were that pregnant.

“Haisley,” I say, giving her a dirty look.

Haisley chuckles and sips her drink. “Not even sorry I told her that.”

“Wait, that was you guys?” Sloane asks, and I feel my cheeks grow red. “Jude was telling us that Reginald was livid he didn’t get a good night’s rest thanks to the hooligans out on their deck.”

Thank goodness Regina called it a night and left ten minutes ago, or else I don’t think I could handle this conversation.

“We weren’t hooligans,” I say as I bite down on the corner of my lip, remembering that night. “I just tend to be louder than I think.”

“You should have seen how proud Brody was when I mentioned it.”

“Oh, I need to meet this Brody guy. He seems like a good time,” Margie says.

“He is,” Haisley says. “I’m sure he’d say he hasn’t had the best trip. He seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he’s so endearing. Even back when we were interns he was endearing—just the nicest. And the snake bush thing…” Haisley starts laughing, and so do Sloane and Stacey. “I couldn’t stop giggling about it the rest of the hike. Jude kept elbowing me to stop.”

I press my hand to Haisley’s arm. “Did you know it took everything within me not to laugh at him? I know I should have been the doting girlfriend, but oh my God, his feral cry still echoes in my head.”

Haisley laughs harder and nods. “Oh my God, I thought it was one of the twins that got hurt, it was so ladylike.”

“What happened?” Margie asks.

Haisley turns to her. “We were on the hike I told you about and Brody stepped in a bush. He felt something pierce his skin, and when he looked down, a snake slithered away. He thought it bit him and freaked out, but really, a branch from the bush just scraped him. But it was a big deal. He passed out.”

“Stop, no, he didn’t.”

I nod. “He did. But in his defense, he didn’t want to go on the hike because he’s deathly scared of snakes. He was already at his max level of adrenaline when the bush tipped him over the edge.”

“Why did he go then?” Haisley asks. “You didn’t have to.”

“I think he’s trying to impress your dad,” I say before I can stop myself. “Uh…I mean…” Shit, Maggie. You’ve barely had one drink, and here you are, giving away Brody’s secrets. “Forget I said that.”

“Why would Brody need to impress Reginald?” Margie asks.

Crap.

Shit.

Oh God.

Why are you a moron, Maggie?

“For work?” Haisley asks.

“Um…you know, I misspoke. We should move on to a different topic before I start sweating profusely.”

“Why would you sweat about that?” Haisley chuckles. “I can understand where Brody is coming from. Technically, my brothers and my dad are all his bosses, so I’d imagine he’d want to put on a good show for them. Although…” She cringes. “Maybe he’s been more…of a comedy act than anything.”

And this is why Haisley is so amazing. She takes a slipup and makes you feel okay about it. She’s gracious, sweet, and kind.

“Yeah, he’s felt kind of stupid with all the mishaps.”

“Oh please.” She waves me off. “It’s been so nice seeing people be real around us. You can’t imagine the fakeness we have to experience. If anything, Brody has just shown my dad how genuine he is.”

“That’s what I said.” I point to my chest. “But he seems to think it’s a bad thing.”

Haisley shakes her head. “No, if anything…it’s good brownie points for Brody.”

BRODY

“I think that this glass is a nice glass,” I say as I rub it against my face. “Isn’t it a nice glass, Hardy?”

I look up at Hardy and notice he’s slightly blurry.

Oh boy.

There can only be two reasons for that.

One: he’s moving back and forth so fast that he’s becoming a blur.

Two: I am officially drunk.

From the four empty shot glasses in front of me, I’m going to guess the latter.

“Dude…you’re toasted.” Hardy lets out a bellow of a laugh as he leans back in his chair.

“I didn’t get sunburnt today,” I say as I clumsily unbutton my shirt and them flip it open so he can see my chest. “See, not burnt.” Then for the hell of it, I boop my nipple.

Boop.

Boop.

“I didn’t mean toasted as in sunburnt. I meant it as in you’re drunk off your ass.”

“Uh, yeah, I know.” I lean on my elbow and look him in the face. “Your father forced me to drink these. Have you not noticed? He was trying to get me drunk and he was successful.” Glancing around the table, I say, “Do you think he has a crush on me or something?”

Hardy laughs again as he grips my shoulder. “Oh fuck, I really hope he does. I love my parents and their marriage, but I’d love if it he had a man crush.”

“Love what?” Hudson says leaning in.

I wave my hand at Hardy and say, “Shhhhhhh, don’t tell him. He’ll tell Daddy Reggie.” The moment the words slip out, I clamp my hand over my mouth. Eyes wide, I stare at Hardy as Hardy stares at me.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, coming in even closer. “So that nickname is real?”

“What? Uh, what nickname? I didn’t hear a nickname.” I point at Hudson. “Did you hear a nickname? No one heard a nickname so we should just eat more of this pretzel.” I hold up a floppy piece to him. “Care for a bite?”

Hardy leans across the table toward Hudson. “The ‘Daddy Reggie’ rumors are true.”

Hudson slams his fist on the table, startling everyone. “I knew it. You owe me one thousand dollars.”

“What’s going on down there?” Reginald asks as he puffs his cigar away from the group, near one of the open windows.

“Nothing,” I squeak and then wave. “Everything is great here. Thank you for asking. How’s your cigar? Puffy?”

“Dude,” Hardy mutters under his breath.

“My balls feel like they’re shriveling up,” I say as Reginald stares me down.

“Why are you jittery?” Reginald asks.

Because you made me get drunk.

Because Jaleesa told me not to get drunk.

And because I feel drunk to the point that I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my lips locked.

“Uh…tired,” I say, nodding. “Yeah, I should probably get to bed. So, thanks for the great night.”

I go to stand, but Reginald says, “Sit down, McFadden.”

“Yup, sure. Of course. I really didn’t want to go—I was just trying to avoid an awkward situation, but you know, I do what you tell me so I’m just going to sit here like you said.”

“Brody, you’re rambling,” Hudson says.

“I know. This is where you punch me in the dick to get me to throw up so no one wants to be around me. Feel free to do it at any point to get me out of here.”

“Dad,” Hardy says. “Just let him get back to his bungalow. He’s clearly drunk.”

“Exactly,” Reginald says. “Now it’s time we have a conversation.”

Yup, my testicles just shot right up my throat.

If I make it out of here alive, I’ll be very impressed with myself.

MAGGIE

“Do you think the boys are talking about things like pre-wedding jitters?” Sloane asks.

With the dark night sky casting a blanket of glittering stars above us, we’re still seated at our table near the beach, the waves lapping in the distance, tiki torches being the only light around us. It’s been a fun night, but I have to admit I’m surprised Sloane’s talking. She’s talked more tonight than I’ve heard her speak all week. Must be the special drink Haisley made. She’s on her second. I stuck with one, because there is no way I was going to get drunk tonight.

For many reasons.

One, professionalism.

Two, don’t want to be puffy tomorrow.

Three, I have plans with Brody tonight, and I don’t want it to be sloppy.

“I don’t think Jude has jitters,” Haisley says.

“Definitely not,” Margie chimes in. “That man has wanted to be your husband from the moment he first kissed you. I don’t think there are any jitters that you need to worry about.”

“What about you?” Sloane asks, clearly not understanding the old verbiage of don’t freak the bride out the night before the wedding.

Haisley confidently shakes her head. “None. I love your brother so much. I can’t wait to be able to call him my husband. I think I’m just impatient at this point. I want to be in that moment, walking down the aisle, looking at him and knowing he’ll be mine forever.”

“That’s so sweet,” I say. “And he will be. Mrs. Haisley Galloway. Oh wait, are you going to take his name?”

Haisley nods. “I think my dad would prefer that I don’t, but I’d never do that to Jude. I know it matters to him, so yes, I’ll be taking his name and then I’ll probably make Hopper my middle name.”

“Haisley Hopper Galloway—that has a nice ring to it,” I say.

“It does, doesn’t it.” She dreamily stares up at the sky. “What about you, Maggie? Could you see yourself marrying Brody? I know we talked about it before, but he was there. Would you take his name?”

All the girls bring their attention to me, waiting on an answer.

“Honestly…” I pause, giving it some thought. I want to tell them it’s all so new that I have no freaking clue, but there’s also a part of me that felt how strong our bond would be many years ago. And that’s why I was so upset after Gary’s wedding. I knew there could be something real between us but he pushed me away. I nod. “I think we could have the potential for marriage. I’d have to see what Brody thinks. My job is a little hectic, but I know he supports me wholeheartedly. I just want to figure that all out. And would I take his name? Of course. I think Brody would feel the same way as Jude—it would make him proud if I took his last name.”

“Well, I’m never getting married,” Stacey announces. She holds her hand up. “Only interested in ladies over here, and finding the right woman to even date is next to impossible.”

“You’ll find her,” Haisley says with a smile. “It will be in an unexpected way. I know it. Kind of like me and Jude.”

“Well, the chances of finding a lesbian on a construction site is much higher…” Stacey smirks, making us all laugh.

Not that it matters, but I had no idea she’s gay. Interesting. I wonder what Sloane’s love life is like.

“What about you, Sloane?” I ask. “Would you want to get married one day?”

She nods. “Yes. To an older man though. Everyone my age is very immature. I can’t take it. I want someone who doesn’t value a beer can over a woman.”

“Kind of like Hudson?” Stacey says, wiggling her eyebrows.

Uh, say what now?

Sloane pushes her sister. “Stop that.” She looks up at Haisley. “I would never.”

Haisley sweetly smiles. “An older man, huh? Maybe Hudson and Hardy could introduce you to one of their friends. If you’re interested.”

“I might like that,” Sloane says before hiding her smirk behind her drink.

But even though she’s cool with the friend thing, a part of me wonders. Does Sloane like Hudson? I mean, what’s not to like? The man is beautiful to look at with a great personality. He’s not stuck-up at all—at least when he’s not at work—and he is, in fact, older…

God, I would so be into seeing if that happened.

I wonder if Jude would approve. He seems to like his future brothers-in-law, but I wonder just how much. Would they be good enough for his sisters?

Plus, two sets of siblings in relationships—that doesn’t happen often.

My God, I have so many questions and so many hopes that this would actually happen.

What is wrong with me? Maybe Haisley’s drink is hitting me harder than I thought.

“When we get back from the honeymoon, I can talk to my brothers and see what’s up with their friends.”

“Or you can just ask your brothers if they’re available,” Stacey says.

“Stop it.” Sloane pushes Stacey again, this time harder. “But if you do ask them something, do you think you could ask if they have any internships open? I know I’d be very grateful if they did.”

“Oh my gosh, they always could use the extra help. I can hook you up for sure. I know Hudson would need one more than Hardy at this point. But yes, the answer is yes. We’ll get you situated when I get back.”

“Thank you,” Sloane says and then sighs. “Sorry for getting off-topic. So…the wedding night, are you nervous?”

Ha.

Doubtful.

That’s probably tomorrow’s main event.

BRODY

“Why don’t you stand up for us, Brody?” Reginald says as he lounges in his chair with the type of grin only rich men can bestow upon you. The one that says, I’m about to make you dance like a monkey for me.

“Dad, what are you doing?” Hudson asks. One of my guardian angels. If it wasn’t for him and Hardy, I think my nose would be a permanent fixture in their dad’s ass at this point. But they’ve been keeping me grounded and I’m very grateful.

“I think it’s time we learn more about Brody.”

“Oh, you know enough about me.” I wave him off. “You know I sing like a cat in heat when I’m bitten by a branch, that I tend to lose my cookies when my crotch is brutalized, and that I feed potato salad to my best friend while singing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.’”

“He wasn’t there for the potato salad part,” Hudson says.

“Oh…right.” I shrug. “Either way. You get the idea. Oh…and my girlfriend is the most perfect human specimen to ever walk this planet and…” I chuckle. “She screamed my name when we were, you know…and woke you up.”

Reginald’s face falls flat.

I hold up my hands. “Not my intention to wake you up, sir. But I can’t help the way my lady friend reacts to the sweet loving my cock brings.” I gesture to my lap and then out to the crowd.

“Uh…maybe we should get you back to the bungalow,” Hardy says as he stands to help me out of my chair, but his dad snaps at him.

“Sit down, Hardy. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Hear that,” I say, pointing at Reginald. “Daddy Reggie said I’m not going anywhere. He likes me.”

“Daddy Reggie?” Reginald says with a raise of his brow.

“Ooops.” I cover my mouth and laugh. “Did I say Daddy Reggie? I meant Mr. Hopper Daddy Reggie. Sorry.”

“Fucking hell,” Hudson mumbles.

Reginald stares me down, flicks the ash off his cigar. “Brody, why don’t you tell us about your proposal?”

“Dad, now is not the time,” Hudson says.

“Isn’t that why he’s really here, though? He wasn’t invited to this wedding. His manager was, but he just so happened to take her place. Seems coincidental that it’s right before he has to present us with his proposal when we get back. Almost seems like he’s here to suck up.”

I slap my knee. “Nothing gets by you.” I stand up, adjust my collar, and address the table. I nod at Jude and Bowie. “Thank you for joining us tonight, gentlemen. And if I’ve missed the opportunity to say so, you are a very lucky man, Jude. Haisley is wonderful.” That makes him smile. “I had the great pleasure of interning with her when I started at Hopper Industries.” I tuck one hand in my pocket, feeling very confident, finally commanding the attention I’ve been looking for this whole trip. “And even though it was short-lived because I was able to help her live out her dreams of leaving the family business and striking out on her own, those were some of the best moments I had when I first started working for Hopper Industries. So, here’s to you, Jude…you and Maggie.” I pause and think for a second. “Wait…no. Not Maggie. She’s mine. Here’s to you and Haisley.”

I tip back my glass of the original drink I never finished and don’t even feel the burn anymore. My throat is dead to me now. My tastebuds are fried.

I set my glass down and rub my hands together. “Now, to get to the proposal.” I move away from my chair and start pacing the length of our private room. “You must be thinking, ‘does Brody even have a living chance against Satan’s Hangnail?’” I hold my finger out. “The answer is yes. Because while her idea is unoriginal”—I point to my chest—“this guy’s idea is top-tier.”

“Are you calling your coworker, Deanna, Satan’s Hangnail?” Reginald asks.

I slowly nod. “Yes, I am, and I have it on good authority that in fact, she’s wholeheartedly earned the name. But that’s neither here nor there. We’re here to talk about my boutique idea.” I pause, waiting for a round of applause, but when no one seems to think my announcement is applause-worthy, I decide to start the applause myself.

I even nudge Bowie, who starts to applaud, but Jude tamps him down.

“Thanks, my man.” I give Bowie a nod. I clear my throat. “So, what is my grand plan that will take Hopper Industries to the same level as, let’s say…Cane Enterprises?” Reginald sneers. “Easy.” I draw my hand across the sky. “Pop-up boutiques. Yes, you heard me right, fellas. The pop-up store. We’re going to take San Francisco’s empty storefronts by storm. We’re going to acquire them for a cheap rate because no one wants them anymore. Thanks to bankruptcy, we’re going to purchase low and aim high.” I punch my fist in the air to illustrate.

I pause once again, waiting for some sort of reaction, but all I’m met with is silence.

Tough crowd.

Straightening out my shirt again, I continue, “The idea is to transform these spaces into rentable places for pop-up stores, offices, marketing opportunities, and so on. This will modernize a division of Hopper Industries while capitalizing on what’s trending, opening our doors to new marketing buzz with the ability to promote the space heavily on social media, and of course, help San Francisco’s economy by driving more business into the streets.”

Proudly, I rest my hands on my hips and look around.

“What do you think?”

Reginald flicks the ash off his cigar again and then leans forward. “I think it has zero potential to make more money than what the Devil’s Hangover is proposing.”

“Technically.” I hold up my finger and bow at the hip, suddenly grateful that the alcohol numbed me from the sting of his words. “I called her Satan’s Hangnail, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Dad—” Hudson starts, but Reginald holds up his hand.

Trying not to fidget under his rejection, I say, “With all due respect, sir, but Satan’s Hangnail didn’t put any original thought into her project. She’s just tapping into an established billion-dollar industry.”

Reginald rubs his hand over his chin. “And do you think I’m not interested in profit? I might be in competition with the Canes, but I’m not about to just throw money away on a measly idea that has no merit.”

Ouch, but we’re not going to let that deter us. Nope, we’re going to plow forward, because if anything, alcohol gives you the false courage you need to make an ass of yourself.

“Oh, Daddy…I mean, sir. This is not a measly idea. This is the future of retail. No offense to you and your generation, but do you happen to spend time on social media? There are so many online businesses now that sell tons and tons of products. Their popularity grows, and they start doing pop-up shops. This has been happening all over New York and Los Angeles. San Francisco is naturally next.”

“That’s all you have? Pop-up shops?”

“No.” I shake my head and take a lap around the table, feeling everyone’s eyes on me as I move around. “The space will be versatile. It will have many options. Think of it as a blank canvas. Do with it what you will.”

“It’s not a billion-dollar industry, and that’s what it comes down to, McFadden. Your idea is mediocre and I’m not looking for mediocre.”

“Dad,” Hudson says again but Reginald stops him.

“And since you got what you wanted by coming here, you can leave now.” Reginald gestures to the door, but in my state of drunkenness and desperation, I hold my ground.

“Is that what you want? The billion-dollar wedding industry?” I ask, feeling myself sway. Oh boy, don’t fall over now, man. I casually lean against one of the walls, trying to come off as a pompous ass like Reginald, but I’m not sure it’s landing as I dimly notice Bowie and Jude giving me nervous side-eyes.

Should I shift my feet?

Cross one over the other?

Hmm, probably not the best idea, given my balance.

So I stick both of my hands in front of me and form a triangle like all of the tech dudes who give TED Talks.

Yeah, that’s it.

Now we’re running with fire…is that the term?

Cooking with fire.

“That’s what I’ve been saying, McFadden,” Reginald says, looking far too annoyed for my liking.

“Well, these spaces could be used for weddings too,” I say. “Like…uh…like a pocket wedding.”

Reginald pauses and then takes a long puff of his cigar and then blows out the smoke. “A pocket wedding?”

“Yes. It’s where we use one of the small offices as a site for a wedding rather than one of Deanna’s large commercial spaces. The pocket wedding would be private, quaint, it’s more intimate than a busy courthouse, and the officiant comes with the room.” He scowls at me for a moment, and I have no clue what he’s thinking. I have no idea how I knew about it either. But I’m feeling quite impressed with myself.

“That’s a pretty good idea, McFadden.”

“Yeah?” I ask. Huh, where the hell did I even come up with that? Feels familiar but I can’t seem to put my finger on it.

“Yeah.” He nods at Hudson. “Get Deanna on that idea and have her add it to her proposal.”

“Wait, what?” I ask.

“Dad, that was Brody’s idea.”

“And Brody can work on it under Deanna’s supervision. Now, enough business talk. McFadden got what he came for, his personal time with us and, now that it’s over, he can excuse himself. I’d like to spend the rest of the night with my family.” He shoos me away with his fingers.

“Wait, so you’re not accepting my proposal?”

Reginald sighs and tilts his head to the side. “McFadden, I was never going to accept your proposal. The moment I saw you here, I knew you were a sham. You weren’t here for Haisley or for Jude. You were here for your own benefit. Now that you got what you wanted, you’re being asked to leave.” Reginald snaps his fingers, and two hotel staff are at my side in seconds. “Don’t bother coming to the wedding tomorrow. You’ve been uninvited.”

“Dad, is that necessary?” Hardy asks. “Maggie’s part of the wedding. She’s been a huge help to Haisley.”

“Which is the only benefit McFadden has provided us since he’s been here.”

I’m about to argue that I’ve at least provided some entertainment when Jude stands from the table, his shoulders looking tense, and his expression stony. “Brody, don’t worry about leaving. Bowie and I are going to head out. This is my wedding and I appreciate you, Reginald, but this is not how I want a guest to be treated, nor is it a way any human being should be treated. There’s a reason Haisley wanted to leave the family business, and this is one of them.” He motions between us. “This behavior. Just because you have money, that doesn’t mean you have the right to treat people as though they’re beneath you. And I’m sorry if you don’t agree with that, but I will not stand by and watch you disrespect a perfectly good human who has done nothing but be kind to my future wife and myself.”

Reginald stands, face reddening. “The only reason he’s here is because he’s trying to use your wedding to gain leverage in my business.”

Guilty.

“Maybe so,” Jude says. “But not once has he talked about business and, if it wasn’t for you getting him drunk and forcing him to make a speech, he wouldn’t have talked about it either. So this is on you, Reginald.” Jude moves away from the table and toward me, taking me by the arm. “I’ll get you back to your bungalow.”

“We can do that,” Hudson says as he and Hardy stand. “You go enjoy the rest of your night with Bowie.”

“And we’re sorry,” Hardy says. “This never should have happened.”

“Yeah…sorry,” I say as I sway to the side, Hardy catching me before I tumble to the ground.

“So, you’re all just going to leave?” Reginald says, standing as well. “You’re acting like I’m the villain here. I did nothing wrong. He’s the one who overstepped.” He gestures toward me. “He’s the one who infiltrated our family. And I’ve put up with it. I’ve smiled. I’ve known the reason he’s here but I haven’t said anything because of Maggie. Because we needed Maggie. And now that I’m exposing him, you’re on his side?”

“We’re not on his side, Dad,” Hudson says. “But you don’t need to treat him with such disrespect.”

“The only disrespect in this room is the way you’re all treating me,” he says right before he tosses his cigar in one of the shot glasses, setting the cup on fire with a whoosh. With that, he storms out.

Okay, I know I should be scared as shit right now, but wow, what a fucking exit.

Apologies are tossed around again, but everything around me is starting to turn black. Moonshine, you are NOT my friend.

“Happy wedding time, Jude.”

And then I’m out.

MAGGIE

Knock. Knock.

I’m on the bed, wearing a very frisky lingerie set, one of my most provocative, completely ready for a night of passion. “Come in,” I say in a cute, but seductive way.

I’ve been thinking about what Brody and I can do tonight, was hoping that he’ll be game to play around with one of my vibrators again. One can only hope.

“Uh…Maggie, it’s Hudson and Hardy,” I hear on the other side of the door.

“Oh.” I leap off the bed and immediately grab one of the complimentary robes from the closet. I wrap it around me and cinch the tie before opening the door.

It takes a second for my eyes to focus on what’s in front of me, but then my heart sinks. Both Hudson and Hardy are holding Brody up—completely passed out.

“Oh my God,” I say, bending at the knees to try to look at Brody’s face, but he’s so slouched over, I can’t quite see him. “What happened?”

I hold the door open and move to the side to let them in.

As they drag Brody over to the bed, Hardy says, “One-hundred proof local moonshine. That’s what happened.”

“No,” I say as I shut the door and walk over to Brody’s limp form. “He told me he wasn’t going to really drink.”

Hardy tugs on his hair and sighs. “Shit, Maggie. I want to be honest with you, but I also…Christ, it wasn’t a good night.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, looking between the two brothers.

Hudson and Hardy exchange looks, communicating through the silence, and I know that whatever they’re holding back isn’t good. I need to know everything that happened.

“Listen, boys, I don’t know what happened tonight, good or bad, but I think it’s fair to let me know. This is my boyfriend and I need the details. Even if they might hurt me.”

“Oh.” Hudson holds up his hand. “If you’re thinking there was any interaction with a woman or anything like that, there wasn’t. It was just the guys tasting alcohol, chatting, and eating pretzels. There were no women involved.”

“Plus, Brody would never do anything to risk your relationship. He’s so fucking in love with you,” Hardy says.

In love…I don’t know about that. But I do believe that he’s into me. I know that for sure.

“Then what happened?” I ask.

Hudson plants his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. “Our dad called him out for why he came to the wedding in the first place.”

“This was after forcing Brody to down multiple shot glasses of the moonshine while the rest of us were just taking tiny sips,” Hardy says.

“Then our dad proceeded to force him into talking about his proposal, which…didn’t go over well,” Hudson continues.

“And it was downhill from there,” Hardy says.

“Oh God.” I press my hand to my chest and stare down at Brody. “Did Reginald not like the proposal?”

Hudson shakes his head. “Brody never stood a chance.”

“Even with his offhand suggestion about the wedding thing,” Hardy says.

“What wedding thing?” I ask.

“Dad was spouting off about Deanna’s proposal and how it’s profitable,” Hudson says. “Anyway, Brody suggested some idea, he called it pocket wedding.” I feel all the life drain from my face. “Dad loved that because it would go hand in hand with Deanna’s proposal. Either way, he wants Deanna to move on it.”

“Are…are you sure he said ‘pocket wedding’?”

“Yeah, why?” Hardy asks.

I shake my head, feeling dizzy. Brody told Reginald about my pocket wedding concept? He sold my competitor my idea? God, I feel so…used. “Just wondering.”

I stare down at Brody, completely obliterated on the bed, the sense of adoration I just had for the man completely gone. How could he just steal my idea like that? Yeah, he was drunk, but that’s not an excuse. It was my idea, and now Devil Deanna will take the concept, run it with millions of dollars behind her, and blow everyone’s mind. It was my fucking idea. My chance to explode my business. Brody knew that. Brody’s a loyal man, but this…this is desperation to make a boss happy.

Not the act of someone who’s claimed to want me for years.

How. Could. He?

Now all I can see is betrayal. Thievery. Someone I thought I knew…but apparently, I didn’t.

It will be the death of my business.

“Do you need help maneuvering him around?” Hardy asks. Yeah. Maybe tip him out the door and into the water?

“Uh, yeah.” I swallow down my pain. “Can you just put him over on that side?”

“Of course.” Hardy and Hudson both shift him around so he’s properly on the bed, still completely lifeless. A part of me wants to feel bad for him, but most of me wants to scream and yell.

“He had a pretty rough night,” Hardy says as he moves toward the door. “Dad uninvited him to the wedding. Jude invited him back. Not sure what he’s going to want to do. I don’t want there to be drama, so I’m almost thinking it’s better if he doesn’t go, you know?”

Hudson grips the back of his neck. “Yeah, I think that might be the right move.”

I nod. “I understand. Would you like me to not attend as well?”

“No,” they both say together.

“Please don’t punish Haisley for my dad’s inability to be a normal fucking human.” Hardy drags his hand over his face. “This is…this is our dad’s fault, and we’ll be having a conversation with him. There’s a lot of complexity in this whole situation, but just to avoid any problems tomorrow, I think it’s best that he stays away.”

“That’s fine. I understand. And I’m sorry for any problems he created.”

Hudson steps up and places his hand gently on my shoulder. “Brody did nothing, Maggie.”

I shake my head. “No, he was here for a reason, and your dad called him out on that.”

“But in all fairness, he never once talked business, never. I think the moment he got here, he realized it probably wasn’t the right time.” Hardy shrugs “I don’t know, it’s been fun having you guys around. I guess I just see it differently. I know Haisley is very grateful for you, so we’re grateful, too. We’d do anything for Haisley.”

“Haisley and Jude,” Hudson adds.

“Well, you guys are good brothers. Thanks for bringing Brody back. I’ll be sure to keep him here. Do I need to tell him anything?”

“Just tell him that we’ll talk to him when we’re back at work. We’ll have our assistant set up a time to meet,” Hudson answers.

“Okay, will do. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

With a final nod, they exit the bungalow. The moment the door clicks shut, I turn around to look at Brody and my eyes fill up with tears. He just lies there, lifeless, completely passed out, unaware that he just broke my heart.

With just two careless words, he took all the trust I had in him and shattered it to a million pieces.

“How…how could you?” I whisper.

My lip wobbles.

My lungs work harder.

And my hands start to shake.

He promised he wouldn’t hurt me. He swore he’d treat me with care, and yet he went behind my back and stole my idea, offering it up to the competitor as if it was an easy in for him, a way to impress.

And yet, here I am, struggling to secure clients, battling against corporate competitors to have my name seen, to grow my business, and he pulls the rug right from under my feet, knocking me back down from my mediocre ascent.

What am I supposed to say?

That was my idea, and Brody stole it, but if I just took it back, I’d proceed with my idea, only for people to say I’m copying the larger corporation for my own gain.

This isn’t just stealing my idea, this is stealing a piece of my business that I’ve been meticulously planning, that I’ve been dreaming about. And he knows how important this business is to me, how hard I’ve worked, the time and energy I’ve put into it. Hell, the only reason we’re in this position is because I was desperate enough to make a power move on my own vacation.

And I made that move.

I was getting an in.

I was helping.

Making myself known.

This just feels like a giant step backward.

No, not a step back, but a push back, like Brody held out his version of a stiff-arm and told me to sit the fuck down.

Devastation rocks through me, and it’s harder and harder to breathe. The more I look at him, the more the betrayal rocks through me. I can’t stay here. I can’t be here. I can’t be near him.

That’s all it takes for me to make a very quick decision.

I strip out of the robe and toss it on the chair in the corner.

I need to get out of here.

And there is only one place I think I can go.

My suitcase is fully packed, and I wheel it the last few feet to the bungalow that I’m praying is the right one.

Normally, I would have taken my time packing up my things. I would have made sure to tuck everything neatly in their respective cases, but the longer I stayed in my bungalow, the sicker I felt. So, I shoved everything in my suitcase and used one of the hotel laundry bags for all of my cosmetics and toiletries. I can organize later.

Taking a deep breath, I lift my hand and knock on the bungalow door.

Nervously, I move back and forth on my feet, trying not to burst into tears.

Please open up. Please open up.

It takes a few seconds, but I hear the door unlock, and then open, revealing a shirtless Hardy, wearing only a pair of shorts. When he gets a look at me, his brow creases. “Everything okay?”

I take a deep breath. “Hardy, I can’t have you ask questions—I just need to know if you have a pull-out couch in your bungalow, and if you do, can I sleep on it?”

He pushes the door farther open. “I do. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Thank you,” I say and as I step inside, he takes take my luggage and wheels it in.

Thankfully, his bungalow is split into two rooms—the living space and the bedroom. The TV is on in the bedroom, some sitcom rerun with canned laughter that feels so empty.

When he shuts the door, he asks, “If this is about Brody and what happened—”

I hold my hand up. “Please, don’t make excuses for him and please don’t ask. I just…I just want to get through tomorrow for your sister and then go home. Okay?”

He nods. “I can ask the hotel staff for another room for you tomorrow. Not sure if there’s anything available.”

“If you don’t mind. I don’t want to put you out. And I can put it on my card.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, Maggie. We can take care of you.”

“Thank you,” I say as I feel tears start to spring to my eyes. I turn away from and inwardly swear at myself to pull it together.

I feel him take a step closer, but never close enough to touch me. He knows his boundaries—you have to respect him for that.

“Maggie, if you want to talk about it…”

“I don’t.” I shake my head. “I just want to go to bed, be there for your sister, and leave.”

When I look up at him, I catch the worry in his brow. I wonder if he’ll question me or if he’ll listen to my wishes. After a few seconds of contemplation, he finally says, “Okay, let’s get your bed set up.”