“It’s on University,” Will was saying.
“It’s not,” Max argued. “It’s the one on Robinson.” He looked up, took in my giant scowl, and shook his head. “Good morning, sunshine. I’m assuming we didn’t sleep well last night?”
I rolled my eyes. “You would know. Were you missing a very pregnant girlfriend? Because she ended up in my room.”
“What?” Will said.
“The entire bridal party including George showed up last night, intent on stealing my fiancée so I wouldn’t see her until the ceremony. I’m assuming they’ve got her bound and gagged in this hotel somewhere while they cover her in white lace and iridescent sparkles.” I took in Will’s posture, the circles under his eyes, and his nonstop yawning. “What’s up with you?”
“Hanna,” he said, stifling another yawn. “Not sure if it’s the cougar sisters or what but damn, I haven’t gotten a full night’s sleep since we got here.”
“I hate you both,” I said with a sweeping hand gesture.
“Good to see you’re in such high spirits today, mate,” Max laughed.
“Suck it, Stella,” I said, breezing by him and heading in the direction of the concierge desk. He and Will moved into step on either side of me.
The concierge looked up as we approached. I gave her my name and handed over my identification and credit card, and waited while she finished the rental paperwork. I’d reserved a large cargo van for our trip to the cleaner; wanting to make sure everything would arrive in perfect condition, even the garment bags pristine. I closed my hand around the keys, feeling a sense of calm at finally being in control of something. This was how you got things done: you fucking did them yourself.
“Mr. Ryan!”
I turned at the sound of my name, the familiar clicking of heels on the wood floor.
Shit.
“Kristin,” I said. “We were just on our way out.”
“The clothes,” she said, nodding toward the key ring in my hand.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
“Ahhh,” she started, and gave me the most pained smile I’d ever seen. My stomach dropped on instinct. “There’s a slight issue.”
Deep breaths.
“‘Slight’?” I repeated. Small accident. Tiny problem. Minor wrinkle.
“Small,” she assured me with a smile. “Insignificant.”
“Here we go,” I heard Will say.
We followed her out a back door, across a patio, and down to the lawn where they were currently setting up for the wedding. Or trying to. My shoe sank into the grass with a sickening squelch on the first step.
“Oh, God,” I said, looking around. “Fuuuuck.” The entire area was flooded. Chairs were knocked over, tables askew with legs sinking into the swampy grass, workers rushing around in a panic.
“A sprinkler line broke during the night,” she said, apologetically. “They’ve stopped the water but as you can see . . .”
“Wow,” Will said, poking at a puddle with the tip of his sneaker.
I scrubbed my face with my hands and felt Max grip my shoulder, squeezing.
“They can fix it though, yeah?” he said, realizing I was two seconds from losing it and stepping in front of me.
“Oh, definitely,” Kristin was saying, though I couldn’t be sure through the sound of blood whooshing in my ears.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, panicked that Chloe had seen this and was freaking out.
But it was only my mother: Honey, do you happen to know if your father packed his black dress shoes? I can’t find them in our room but he says he did.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket, tuning in as Kristin was saying, “They’ve fixed the line, now we’ll work on getting this area dried up or move everything a bit farther down the beach.”