Two days before the wedding, my best friend Olivia asked me to test my fiancé. She didn't trust Grayson Sterling. In her words, Grayson Sterling had been through half of Manhattan. He wasn't about to give up the whole forest for one tree. Her instincts were terrifyingly accurate. I made a burner Instagram account that night. Built it to match his type. Hot. Forward. The kind of woman who put "take me" all over her face. Slid into his DMs. Grayson ignored me. I was about to text Olivia a "he passed" when the whole thing flipped. He replied. "Apart from you two, I don't touch other women." "Liv, if you want to flirt with me, use your main account next time." Liv. Olivia's nickname. … The second my brain processed those three messages, ice-cold nausea flooded my body. I squeezed my eyes shut. My nails dug into my palms. Over the frantic pounding in my chest, I confirmed it. This wasn't a dream. Grayson had been cheating on me. With Olivia. But how? They couldn't stand each other. Olivia always said Grayson wasn't good enough for me. Besides a face that made women weak and a trust fund that never ran dry, he was useless. Grayson called Olivia a troublemaker. Said every time we fought, she whispered in my ear to dump him. A FaceTime ringtone yanked me back. I hit decline. "Why aren't you picking up?" Grayson's message came through. "You hiding somewhere crying?" "Come to Southampton. I'll make it better." "Relax. I'll still take good care of you after the wedding." "Whatever Norah has, you'll have too." "Including me." I stared at my phone. Blank. My ears ringing. Completely numb. Tears dropped onto the screen. Fat. Unstoppable. Through the blur, every detail I'd ignored slammed into my skull like a knife. The first time I brought Olivia to our Newport house for the weekend. She walked straight down the hallway to my bedroom and walk-in closet without anyone guiding her. Like she lived there. When I grabbed her phone to connect her to the Wi-Fi, it was already connected. She said she'd guessed the password, tried her pet's name and got lucky. Grayson's Russian Blue, the cat famous for ignoring everyone, was all over her. She said maybe she'd picked up my scent. That cat barely tolerated me. Treats and toys couldn't lure him over. He rolled onto his back for Olivia the first time he met her. And her apartment. The same clothes as me. Same bags. Same lipsticks. Some of them Grayson had used me to give her. "For my maid of honor," he'd said. The rest, Olivia said were from other guys. I'd pressed her for details, excited. She dodged every question. I thought she was shy. Now I understood. Guilt. Shopping trips came back to me. The two of them arguing right in front of me over who ranked higher in my heart. Red-faced. Loud. More than once, that explosive tension cracked because one of them broke into laughter. And I stood there grinning like an idiot, happy they'd finally stopped fighting. Those two. Using me as their cover to flirt. Playing me for a fool. I cried until my eyes swelled shut. Until my head went foggy. I grabbed my keys and drove to Southampton like a maniac. The Sterling estate was another one of Grayson's properties. Where he'd parked his groomsmen. They were throwing his bachelor party tonight. Through the wrought-iron gates, I saw them by the pool. Grayson was drunk. That sharp, aggressively handsome face was flushed. Eyes glazed, he hooked an arm around Olivia's neck and breathed something into her ear. She pouted and shoved him into the pool with a spoiled little flick of her wrist. The groomsmen roared. Grayson surfaced, shook wet hair out of his eyes, and flashed that filthy smirk.
He grabbed Olivia's ankle and dragged her in. She screamed. He pinned her against the pool wall and kissed her. Hard. Possessive. Cheers exploded around them. Someone popped champagne. Someone lit fireworks. Someone brought me up. Half-joking. "Grayson, man, you're marrying Norah in two days and you're all over her maid of honor? Not a good look." "Come on. As long as we keep quiet, Norah won't know a thing even if Grayson does Liv right here tonight." "Now that's the Grayson I know. The way you were chasing Norah, I almost thought you'd gone domestic for good." Grayson finally ended that long kiss. His voice came out low and lazy. Rough charm. "Listen up. I love Norah. She's the only woman I want to marry. I'll spoil her, treat her right, spend my life with her. But turn into a saint for her starting now?" He laughed. Planted a loud kiss on Olivia, still panting against his shoulder. "Not a chance in hell." Grayson carried Olivia out of the pool and set her on a lounge chair. Someone tossed him a towel. He pulled it off and draped it over her instead. A voice asked, "Grayson, you heading back tonight?" Olivia lifted red-rimmed eyes to him. Grayson crouched down and pinched her cheek. Intimate. Easy. "Norah cares about Liv more than anyone. Even me, I'm second place. Now our little Liv's upset. Of course I'm staying." He waved a hand behind him. "Caleb, text Norah. Tell her I'm wasted. Sleeping here tonight. I'll pick her up for the rehearsal tomorrow." The moment my tears broke, my phone buzzed. Caleb Vance. "Norah, Grayson's had too much. Not coming back tonight. Get some sleep. He'll pick you up for the rehearsal." I stood there for a long time. Thinking. My parents died when I was young. I went into the foster care system. Bounced from home to home. No one really cared. Until Olivia. She fought for me when kids bullied me at school. She asked for the things I was too scared to ask for myself. I fought for her too. Helped her get the same scholarship. Wrote her application essays. Dragged her to the interview. She was an only child. Didn't love studying. Senior year, I made her review with me every night. Chewed up every test answer and fed it to her. Pumped her up. Painted her a picture of college. We got into the same state university together. Sophomore year, I found out my boyfriend was cheating. Olivia stormed the hotel where they'd checked in. Beat the hell out of him. Screamed at the girl until she ran out crying. After graduation, we rented a crappy apartment together. No clue what the future held. Every night we crammed into one bed and fantasized about the other getting rich and taking care of us. "When you're rich, don't forget about me." "I'm sharing half my bed with you now. You owe me a beach house later." Twenty years. She wasn't just a friend. She was the sister I never had. Maybe real family wouldn't love me unconditionally. But I believed she would. So when everything was laid out in front of me, I didn't even have the strength to confront her. The girl who once fought for me. Who beat up my cheating boyfriend. Was now my fiancé's lover. My unreserved trust. Paid back with the cruelest betrayal. I left Southampton. The moon was huge and full above me. I was freezing. Memories of Grayson and me surfaced. At twenty-five, I became lead designer at Elysian Designs, the top wedding planning firm in Boston. Not luck. I started as an intern. Stayed awake for seventy-two hours straight solving a celebrity wedding disaster. Made my name. At Caleb Vance's Napa Valley estate wedding. I'd been up all night watching over the setup. My blood sugar crashed. I went headfirst into the fountain. Grayson happened to be walking by. He pulled me out.
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