She ran into Mitchell now and then at events, but it wasn’t like they actually . . . talked or anything. In fact, they hadn’t had an in-depth discussion since the day he’d moved out of their condo, effectively splitting up their marriage. Which was . . . four years ago? Then less than a year after their divorce had been finalized he’d married Allison. No mourning period for him.
Not that she’d mourned him. At all. Much.
“Are you going to be all right with this?” her mom asked.
Brenna shrugged. “I’m fine with it. Business is business, so we’ll deal with it just like any other wedding.”
“There’s more,” Honor said.
Brenna braced herself.
“Go ahead.”
“Esther and Brock want to make an entire weekend of it, here at the vineyard. Wine tasting with the wedding party on Thursday, rehearsal dinner on Friday, then the wedding on Saturday followed by brunch with the family and wedding party on Sunday morning.”
“Oh, that’s a lot of Mitchell,” Erin said, wincing. “And a lot of Allison.”
Mom shook her head. “Absolutely not. How dare she—”
“Mom,” Brenna said. “You have to remember this isn’t Mitchell making these plans. It’s the bride and groom. They chose Bellini Weddings and Red Moss Vineyards. I’m sure they never even made the connection.”
“More likely Allison just wants to dig in the knife and vomit her happiness all over you.”
“Erin.” Their mother shot Erin a glare. “Not that I don’t disagree, but that was vile.”
“And not untrue,” Honor said. “We all know Allison’s motivations. She’d always had it out for Brenna, even in high school.”
Brenna couldn’t disagree with that. Some women never grew out of their high school pettiness. Brenna and Allison had been friends in high school. Close friends. Until Brenna had been asked to junior prom by Dean Cullen, one of the most popular boys in the school, and Allison had never forgiven her. How was Brenna supposed to know Allison had a crush on the guy if she had never told Brenna about it? It wasn’t like Brenna had even flirted with Dean. Okay, maybe she’d eyed him in the halls, but who wouldn’t have wanted to go out with the hottest tight end on the football team? Every girl did back then. Never in a million years did she think Dean would ask the dorky bookworm over the super cool cheerleader. She’d been as shocked as Allison had been. After Allison had informed her of how upset she was, Brenna had told her she’d turn him down.
But it had been too late, and Allison blamed her, had accused Brenna of going behind her back to get Dean to ask her to prom when she’d known all along that Allison had liked him, which had been utterly ridiculous. And totally wrong. And had pissed her off—and to be honest, hurt her feelings. So she’d gone to prom with Dean just for spite.
Of course, she’d had a terrible time, because Dean was a prime douchebag who’d brought booze and had only been interested in getting laid, and thought Brenna would be more than eager to let him into her panties. He’d been so wrong about that.
Boys. She should have known better. She’d called her dad to pick her up and left Dean in the dust.
It had been an awful night, and Brenna had lost one of her best friends in the process.
Brenna often wondered if Allison had hooked up with Mitchell after their divorce to get back at her. Given how long Allison could hold a grudge, it wouldn’t surprise her in the least.
“Look,” Brenna said. “It’s just a wedding, and four days of events will make for excellent income for us. We’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with it. Mitchell and I are ancient history.”
“If you’re sure,” her mom said.
Brenna lifted her chin. “Totally positive.”
She’d make this work. She’d get through those four days, smile, do her job, be the best bridesmaid she could be, and show Mitchell and Allison that she was thriving and happy.
But single. She knew Allison would toss several digs in about that.
She’d have to figure out an angle so she wouldn’t have to hear Oh, poor Brenna can’t get a guy after Mitchell dumped her. She knew how Allison’s mind worked. And Mitchell would just follow along.
She’d be damned if she’d be gossip fodder for Allison and her friends.
She needed a plan.
And she knew just the person to help her.
CHAPTER
• • • • • •
three
FINN STOOD UNDER a lukewarm shower for about ten minutes, letting the water rinse off the sweat and grit from his body. After today’s work, it felt good. He scrubbed his body down, washed his hair and got out. After drying off, he pulled on a pair of jeans and went to the fridge to grab a beer. He popped it open and took several long swallows of the cold brew, sighing in pure pleasure.
He was about to sit down and relax for a few when he heard a knock on the door, which surprised the hell out of him. Normally no one bothered him at his place after hours.
He went to the door, even more surprised to see Brenna standing there. She looked pretty as ever, her hair piled high in a ponytail. She wore a yellow sundress that highlighted her creamy skin.
“Brenna. What are you doin’ here?”
She gaped at him for a few seconds, then said, “We need to talk.”
He shrugged. “Sure. Come in.”
He shut the door and followed her inside. She turned to face him. “I’ve got a problem and I think you’re my perfect solution.”
This was new. Normally she avoided him like he carried some kind of plague. “Okay. What can I help you with?”
“My ex-husband and his wife are going to be here on the property for a wedding next weekend. A wedding where I’m one of the bridesmaids.”
“Mitchell’s coming here? That’s a surprise.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, his wife, Allison, is a friend of mine from high school. Ex-friend, I guess you could say. She and I had a falling-out. She blames me for—well, anyway, that story doesn’t matter. She’s the matron of honor in the same wedding. As you can imagine, it is going to be a nightmare having to be around them.”
He crossed his arms and studied her. She was pacing back and forth and seemed very uncomfortable. And frantic, which wasn’t like her. Normally, Brenna was cool and had everything under control. Obviously this whole Mitchell-and-Allison thing had her rattled.
“What do you need me to do for you?”