Three to Get Ready Read online

  TWO FOR THE SHOW

  SKYE WARREN

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About Skye Warren

  1

  EVA

  A wedding reception at the Met:

  1. Stunning, eight-foot-high floral arrangements,

  2. Priceless, world-class art,

  3. And me, pregnant with Finn Hughes’s baby.

  Nobody knows. Not my family. Not Finn. Not a single person in this room has any idea that I’m carrying the baby of a man whose last words to me were I wish I could say I’ll miss you, but the truth is that I won’t. In a few short years, I won’t even remember you existed.

  What am I supposed to do with that?

  Aside from keeping Daphne and Emerson’s reception on track.

  My sister’s wedding is the perfect distraction. I’m working with a James Beard award-winning chef for the canapés and booking the world-renowned violinist Samantha Brooks for the ceremony. Which means I don’t have time to wonder about the small life growing inside me.

  The Met is the perfect compromise to keep the peace with my parents. We had close family and friends only for the ceremony at Leo’s church. And a large, lavish reception at the Met.

  Emerson even went so far as to get baptized ahead of the wedding. I’m not sure if he meant it as an olive branch to the family for kidnapping Daphne or a symbol of his obsession.

  Probably the latter.

  Regardless of the reason, my parents seem to accept Emerson. My brothers do, too.

  Which is a good thing. Peace is a transient thing in the Morelli family. I’ve learned to embrace it when it comes, even if it’s fleeting. So I don’t think about how my parents will freak out when they find out that I’m pregnant. And that the engagement with Finn Hughes is broken.

  I don’t think about the fact that I’ll be the one to ruin the peace. I don’t think about the fact that I’ll have to tell them I’m pregnant.

  And I don’t think about how upset everyone will be.

  We’re almost at the finish line. Being the maid of honor makes everything easier, ironically. Plus, I could watch over everybody from the front of the church and make sure no scuffles broke out.

  I could look at my family’s faces and wonder if they’ll all stroke out when they hear the news.

  I was the one to coordinate the timing between the ceremony and the reception with the wedding planner, leaving plenty of buffer time for photos outside the church. It allowed me to get here first to make sure everything is perfect.

  And, for the millionth time today, I wonder what I’m going to do.

  Finn would want to know that I’m pregnant with his baby. Somehow, we both forgot to use a condom. And for whatever reason, Plan B didn’t work. An ironic twist of fate. Somewhere a stork is laughing.

  This is happening.

  Finn would want to know, but he doesn’t actually want a baby,

  He was as clear as the crystal on the guest tables that he never wanted a child.

  He refused to have a child, actually. Finn has valid reasons for that. I wouldn’t dream of trying to convince him that his family’s inherited illness was nothing.

  But now the baby isn’t a hypothetical. He or she is going to be our very real child. And no child of mine is going to feel the pain of being unwanted. No child of mine is a mistake.

  The baby’s barely the size of a pea, but my protectiveness feels as sharp as any of the cutlery gleaming near artfully folded napkins. I won’t let Finn hurt the child by forcing us to stay separate or forcing us to stay close enough to see the depth of his disinterest.

  Right on schedule, my family starts at the reception.

  Leo and Haley are first. They compromised on her bed rest situation. Leo agreed that Haley could go about her day normally, albeit while sitting or lying on the couch.

  Haley agreed to let Leo carry her everywhere.

  It’s a classic Leo compromise, if you think about it.

  There’s no classic Finn compromise. Not on this issue. I’ll have to decide this all on my own, for me and the baby.

  I could lie to him. He might prefer it, actually.

  I could announce that our engagement is off. Start rumors in Bishop’s Landing that I’m seeing someone. Or several someones. Maybe I could pretend to sleep with a different man every night, the same way Finn was rumored to sleep with a different woman every night.

  Then a few months down the road, I can tell everyone I’m pregnant and refuse to name the father.

  The problem with that option is that Finn knows me. He got under my skin. He’d suspect that I didn’t find a rebound guy to sleep with, much less twenty rebound guys. He would eventually know it was his child. And doesn’t he have a right to know? Even if he doesn’t want it. Even if it will hurt him to know.

  My dad strides in through the gallery door, Mom close on his heels. He looks critically over the reception space and barks at a passing waiter for a drink.

  “Dinner doesn’t start for forty minutes,” Mom points out in a cool tone.

  “Good thing I’m not a lightweight,” Dad growls. “Don’t manage me.”

  “As if anyone could,” she answers with a light party laugh.

  The show has officially begun.

  I station myself near the entrance to the gallery. More guests arrive, filling the space with warm chatter.

  “We’re having a polite conversation.” Tiernan’s low voice cuts through the door ahead of him. It’s growly and menacing, which is normal for him. “I take it you’ve never been part of one before.”

  “I take it you never learned to fuck off before.”

  My disaster alarms go off. The target of Tiernan’s sarcasm is Emerson’s brother, Will Leblanc. Will looks coldly murderous. Tiernan’s disgruntled. His girlfriend, Bianca, gives me big, worried eyes.

  “Tiernan!” I approach my brother with a big, bright smile. “Go have a drink.”

  He opens his mouth as if to argue, but Bianca speaks first. “That is such a great idea. It looks beautiful in here, by the way! I especially love the hydrangeas. I’ve never seen them so big before.”

  Will hangs back, bristling. I put a hand on his elbow. He’s my new brother-in-law. I don’t know him that well, but he seems like a decent enough guy. “Don’t mind Tiernan. Emotional days make him grumpy.”

  “Would a fistfight make him feel better? I wouldn’t mind punching him.”

  “At least wait until after she throws the bouquet.”

  He snorts, his expression clearing. “Only because you asked. I appreciate everything you’ve done to smooth the way for Emerson. Your family isn’t exactly…”

  “Nice? Sane? Decent?”

  “I was going to say welcoming,” Will says, humor dancing in his blue-green eyes.

  I like talking to Will. It’s easier, at the moment, to talk to someone I don’t know that well. Talking to my sisters, my brothers, my parents is hard because of the secret I’m keeping. Because of how badly I want to tell them the truth. Well, maybe not my parents. But Daphne, definitely. And my other siblings. I want their support right now, but I don’t feel like I can have it.

  Keeping secrets is nothing new to me. I’m even used to living with a broken heart.

  It’s over, sweetheart. We had a good time, but that’s all this ever was.

  Finn called what we had a fling. He chose words that he knew would cut deep. He was an asshole on purpose. I understood that, but the words still cut me. Since that night I’ve come up with a thousand comebacks that would destroy him.

  It’s a good thing he’s not here.

  Why would he be? A person like Finn wouldn’t need to attend in person. Even if we weren’t fake dating, he’d have to send a gift from Daphne and Emerson’s Crate & Barrel registry.

  In fact, I’m sure that’s exactly what he did.

  The room doesn’t have space for him, anyway. I took him out of the seating arrangement and removed his preferences from the chef’s list.

  He was going to choose the vegetarian option.

  Really? I said when I asked him. You don’t want Wagyu beef prepared by a team of chefs with a collective twenty Michelin stars?

  Finn had laughter in his eyes. Anyone can cook beef, Morelli. Those two will make serious magic with plants.

  My father makes a speech to a crowd of people who are happily ensconced in their dinner. It’s short, but in the middle he pauses. I hold the champagne glass I haven’t sipped from to my chest.

  I’m not the only one to notice the pause. My mother watches him, hawk-eyed, from her place at his side. An unruly, uneven part of me hopes that he’ll cause some trouble.

  Not really, of course. Not on Daphne’s day.

  I just want something to take the edge off. I’m cycling between angry and heartbroken and coolly focused every two minutes. If my father derails the reception, it’ll take all my concentration.

  My father clears his throat and raises his glass. He could say l
iterally anything. Something cutting. Something cruel. “I wish you the best of everything, Daphne. To a long and happy life.”

  I sigh in relief as everyone claps.

  Well, the wedding crisis was averted. My pregnancy crisis remains.

  Except…it’s not a crisis. I want the baby. The baby is mine. I’m going to have a baby.

  Deciding what to tell Finn and when? That’s the crisis.

  I suppose it’s only a matter of choosing the method of communication. A letter seems…overly formal. A text message would seem like a cruel joke. Maybe I can send a carrier pigeon?

  Calling him is probably the right thing to do, but I don’t want to hear him shut down. I don’t want to hear him say that he doesn’t want this baby and will have nothing to do with it. I’d rather get there first.

  I’d rather tell him that I’m handling it on my own and that he doesn’t need to be involved. That I don’t want him involved, and I won’t let him near the baby.

  You don’t like charming men, remember? And that’s the one thing I am: charming.

  He wasn’t charming when he broke up with me.

  I still can’t bring myself to feel okay with preemptively kicking him out of the baby’s life. Finn was cruel. That doesn’t mean I have to be. Even if Finn doesn’t deserve the baby, the baby deserves a father. And the truth is… I know that Finn would be a great father. He’s funny and patient and sweet.

  Except for when he broke up with me.

  That knifelike protectiveness surges up again. I’ll be polite since he’s the father of my child, but I won’t be weak. I won’t be small and heartbroken the way I was after Lane.

  Emerson’s brother Sinclair pats him on the shoulder on his way to make his speech. His work as an investigative journalist and extreme sportsman keeps him busy. We’ve chatted a couple of times at Emerson’s house. I’ve read a few of his long form pieces, and they’re very good.

  I wonder if he’ll be as eloquent in person.

  He lifts the mic and clears his throat. Murmurs in the room die off, and Sinclair nods toward Emerson. His blue eyes look emotional, though his voice is steady. “Hey, Em.”

  “Hey,” Emerson says from his spot at the sweetheart table with Daphne. This gets a laugh from the guests.

  “I’m going to talk about you to all these people, if that’s okay.”

  Emerson takes Daphne’s hand and gestures at Sinclair to continue.

  “Great.” Sinclair sticks his other hand in his pocket. “For those who don’t know, my name is Sinclair. I’m Emerson’s older brother. Since you’re all here, I’m betting you know that Emerson has occasionally dabbled in the art scene.”

  Another laugh goes up.

  “Ever since I’ve known him, my brother has always been the kind of person who seeks out beauty. You could put him on the ugliest street corner in Brooklyn, and he’d notice that the raindrops there reflected all the colors of the neon lights. He’d tell you to look closer until you could see it.”

  Emerson stares at his brother like he’s never heard anything so inaccurate about himself. Or maybe so accurate.

  “Emerson sees beauty everywhere he goes, and maybe that’s why he’s so particular about what he wants. You can’t impress this guy with run-of-the-mill pretty. You need to be fucking breathtaking to steal his heart. Only one person has ever done that, and that’s Daphne.”

  Daphne blushes. One of Emerson’s hands is in both of hers.

  That’s how I’d hold Finn’s hand if he wanted a baby.

  God, it would be so much easier if he just…wanted a baby. If he just wanted a family.

  If he just wanted me.

  My throat closes. I was foolish to fall for Finn Hughes, but I’m outright ridiculous to wish I’d stolen his heart, too.

  “Here’s how I know they’re perfect for each other,” Sinclair says. “Fun fact about Emerson—he surfs every day, all year. Daphne, I’m sorry to say, has terrible balance. But she goes with him anyway.”

  Someone at one of the middle tables says aww.

  “No, you don’t understand.” Sinclair holds up a hand. “This woman is terrified of decent-sized waves. One day this summer I watched her scream all the way back to the shore. She was still out there on Emerson’s board with him.”

  Warm applause. Daphne leans in and kisses Emerson’s cheek. I use the pause to look out over the tables.

  Finn stands at the entrance to the gallery.

  My heart stops.

  He came.

  Anger stomps down on that thought like a pointed high heel. How dare he come here? How dare he show up like nothing happened? Like we’re something to each other?

  We’re not. We’re nothing.

  He wears a tux that looks incredible on him. It emphasizes his broad shoulders and his lean hips. A few women notice him, too. It’s hard not to. It’s like a young Brad Pitt just walked into the room. Even silent he radiates a presence. He inclines his head at me, a tacit greeting.

  I’m the first to look away.

  Sinclair continues his speech. “Look. Love is scary as hell. I’m proud of you, Em, for having the courage to love Daphne more than you’ve ever loved anything else. And Daphne, I think you’d agree with me that Emerson deserves the world. So congratulations on being absolutely everything to him.” He raises his champagne glass. “To love and bravery.”

  Daphne has tears of joy in her eyes.

  I have tears in my eyes, too. Sinclair’s speech moved me to pissed-off, heartbroken tears that I won’t let fall. Not in front of Finn freaking Hughes.

  I can feel his eyes on me as I watch Daphne dab at her eyes with a tissue, laughing at the same time. As Emerson leans in to kiss her, not seeming to care about the five hundred guests. As another happily ever after begins right in front of me while my heart breaks again.

  2

  FINN

  I didn’t come here to get sucker-punched by a wedding toast.

  I probably deserve it. It feels wrong and intrusive to be here. Eva and I agreed to fake a relationship, but showing up at her sister’s wedding reception strikes me as dishonest given that I was supposed to be her plus one. And given the way I spoke to her.

  It’s over, sweetheart.

  I’d made up my mind not to come; then at the last minute I got dressed and drove here.

  I feel like an asshole, looking at Eva. And I also feel like I’ve come home. Like I can finally breathe again now that I’m in the same room. Five hundred people have taken over a section of the Met. She’s across the room. It’s still better than being without her.

  Eva faces forward, not looking at me. Her brothers are getting up to make speeches. Leo gets choked up in the middle of his and abandons the entire thing. He finishes by handing Emerson an envelope and giving a toast to art.

  Carter takes the microphone from Leo and pats his shoulder. “We’re all going to forget what we’ve just seen,” he intones, and then he tells a story about how Daphne started out sketching and drawing and painting everything she could see or imagine. He’d study science, and she’d study the world. It took her years of careful study to find her true obsession, but she never gave up. “And now you found him,” Carter says. “I always knew you would.”

  Frankly, it’s awful. The little hints of their family life make me feel closer to Eva and miles away. I want her so much that it hurts.

  For sex purposes, obviously. And also for this life that she has. Her family is overbearing and dysfunctional and intense. Sometimes I think they need to learn some goddamn boundaries. But they belong to Eva, and she’s part of them, too. I want to be by her side when she’s in the thick of it.

  I won’t abandon you. No matter what.

  That’s what she said to me. And what did I do? I broke up with her. Threw her out.

  Daphne and Emerson rise from their table.

  It’s time for cake.

  I hang back until they’ve cut a slim piece from a cake subtly designed with an ocean theme. Even at a distance, I know Eva had something to do with it. Ivory fondant gives the impression of light coming through water. A spray of edible pearls curves down one side.