The Paid Bridesmaid by Wilson Sariah

Author:Wilson, Sariah
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2022-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

One of Hank’s assistants was throwing feathers at us as everyone started swinging their pillows in earnest. The men seemed much more into it, but the women quickly caught up. Camden stayed in position near my elbow, fending off potential attacks.

Despite me feeling stupid initially, and the blizzard of white feathers blinding us, I found myself squealing and laughing with everyone else. The men were enthusiastically raining blows down on each other, until Camden’s phone rang.

He gave me that “sorry” expression of his and abandoned the battle, heading off into the night to take his call.

It surprised me that he left. He seemed to be having a good time.

Not to mention—selfishly—that it was not good for me that he’d taken off. Without him there as my wingman, I was getting pummeled by the other members of the bridal party. Mary-Ellen in particular seemed to take a huge amount of delight in whacking me.

Hank yelled, “Cut!” and Mary-Ellen got in one last lick before she set her pillow off to the side. “Bring in the chairs, and let’s get the s’mores going.”

Finally. Something I’d be good at.

The assistants brought in a bunch of white Adirondack chairs, seating them around the fire. Somehow I got downwind of the fire and it kept blowing smoke at me. I tried to scoot my chair over, but was blocked by the empty one. I dragged the empty one farther toward where Dan and Sadie sat.

“Trying to move my chair away from you?” Camden asked when he returned.

“No, just trying to get clear of the smoke. I like having eyeballs, thanks.”

He smiled and pulled my chair closer to his, out of the smoke. I wondered why they hadn’t set up the chairs so we were all seated together, but it was like Camden and I were in our own tiny little bubble.

He took his phone out of his pocket and started responding to a text.

“Was it really that important?” I asked him, not able to keep my opinions to myself like I should have.

“What?”

“The phone call. I know you’re busy and have a lot going on, but Dan’s only getting married once. He’s counting on you. You should be here for it.”

Camden put his phone back. “I am here.”

“No, here, here. Not on your phone every ten minutes. You’re going to miss everything.”

For a second I thought he might tell me it was none of my business, and truthfully it wasn’t. I just didn’t want him to look back on this and regret that he hadn’t been more present for his best friend.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Those are words I do not hear often enough.”

One of Hank’s assistants handed us all the things we’d need for s’mores—the giant marshmallows, Hershey chocolate bars, graham crackers, and long skewers.

I got to work, preparing the chocolate and the crackers. Then I got my marshmallow on the skewer and put it over the fire.

“How do you take yours?” Camden asked. “Golden brown or flaming black?”

“It’s sugar. I will take it however it wants to present itself.

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