The only piece of info I got out of him before he dropped me off here at the local Starbucks was that Charlie would be staying with his mom—his entire family is renting a guest house here in St. Paul for the wedding—so I’m left with more questions than answers. He did tell me to wait until I ordered a coffee and sat down before I opened the envelope.
And why am I going along with this?
I answer myself, Because … Josh! Duh.
“Sophie!” I automatically turn and see Britt and Quinn sitting at an outside table with iced lattes in hand and a backpack on the ground next to their feet.
“What the …?” Oh, that man’s been plotting alright.
I walk over. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We’re wondering the same thing,” Britt states. “All we know is that Josh gave us each an envelope.”
“And made us pack for up until the wedding,” Quinn says. “And promise we’d take care of you. You guys okay?”
“Never better.”I study the envelope in my hand. My fingers go to rip the corner.
“Wait!” Both girls jump up from their chairs, scraping the metal across the concrete patio.
“Josh gave specific instructions to open them together!” Britt holds out her hand to stop me.
I scowl. “So we have to do everything Josh says?”
Britt regards me like I’m nuts. “Your gorgeous fiancé wants to send you on an exciting adventure with friends, and you don’t want to … why?
That breaks through the sexual frustration and my immediate mistrust of something new.
“You’re right … absolutely right. I don’t know what I’m thinking,” I’m thinking I don’t understand what’s going on. “You guys chill out, I’m going to get a coffee, I’ll be right back.”
I order an iced caramel macchiato and meet the girls back at the table.
We sit for a moment quietly, all of us studying each other and the thin envelope in front of us.
“I really can’t take anymore. Are you ready?” I ask, becoming more curious by the minute.
“Whenever you are.” Quinn smiles and straightens her off-the-shoulder shirt.
“On the count of three then.” I look to each of them,
“1, 2 … 3,” we say simultaneously then tear open our envelopes.
I puff the sides of the envelope out, reach my fingers inside and pull out the neatly folded golden note.
We all take a second to look at each other and the papers in our hands. Why do I feel so nervous?
“Read yours first, Britt,” I whine, not even able to begin to guess at what Josh is up to.
She rolls her eyes and unfolds her letter. “Hey, Britt. Knowing my girl like I do, she’s going to ask you to read your instructions first. Don’t worry about it. She’ll get used to this game I’ve devised and have so much fun she’ll be tearing hers open and reading it first with relish soon enough.”
Now she throws a scolding glance my direction.
“Okay … so he just … thinks … he knows me …” I start slowly, feeling embarrassed and dumbfounded. I decide to wave her on quickly so I don’t have to feel that way any longer. “Just keep reading.”
“For the next three days before the wedding I have some very special things planned for Sophie to prove to her that I will never hurt her or Charlie and that I love them with my life.” Her expression becomes puzzled and concerned. “What’s he talking about?”
“You’re still having the bad dreams?” Quinn leans against the table on her elbows and asks sympathetically.
I nod, feeling very defeated.
“Josh confided in Liam. He thought maybe I could help somehow,” she explains. “I’m sorry if that’s an intrusion.” She takes my hand in hers and squeezes it kindly.
“It’s not,” I say to Quinn, then shrug at Britt. “I just didn’t want to talk about it. I thought they would’ve gone away by now.” Or should have.
Britt offers a soft smile before she continues with Josh’s note. “She needs a cheering squad—that’s where you and Quinn come in. Just hang with her and make sure she’s okay. Thanks and more instructions coming soon.”
At this point Quinn is silently reading over hers. When she looks up she says, “He wrote pretty much the same thing but did say that the rest of the envelopes will only be for Sophie to open.”
“Rest of them?” I look at the girls, baffled. “There are more?”
They both shrug.
“Read yours, Sophie,” Quinn urges.
I can’t move.
“What’s wrong?” Britt asks.
“It’s just … my fiancé … feels like he has to resort to tricks to convince me. I feel terrible.” My finger smooths along the note’s edge.