Annie looks around. “I figured people might want some time to themselves, so nothing’s scheduled until tomorrow.”
Rae folds her arms. I don’t think she ever sleeps. “I’m going to the pool.”
Elle frowns. “I need to bleach my hair before the weekend. I meant to do it sooner but ran out of time.”
“I’m sure the salon can do it.”
“Nah, it’s cool. If I can find an umbrella to sit under, I’ll come do it by the pool with you guys.”
Beck arrives and wraps an arm around Elle and Annie. “What’s going on?”
Rae responds. “Bonding.”
He makes a quick count and curses. “Told you, no foursomes. But I should check my contract and see if it stands outside the US.”
Annie laughs, and I’m grateful to my friend for helping lighten the mood.
“You guys go ahead. I’m going to see who’s checked in,” I say, spotting Jax. I need to see if our Wicked guests have arrived.
But Annie jumps in front of me. “I’ll stay too.”
Despite the long flight, she looks beautiful, but there’s an edge of tiredness in her eyes.
“It’s fine, Six,” I murmur, stepping close and brushing a thumb along her cheek. “Let me do this. I’ll have them send you the list so you can check it later by the pool.”
I think she’s going to argue, but she relents, her expression filling with gratitude. “Okay. Just give me one second.”
She exchanges a few words I can’t hear with the wedding planner who came out to greet us, flicking a glance toward me. Then Annie and our friends, plus Haley and the kids, depart in a couple of golf carts. Jax comes up next to me.
Our dedicated on-site planner, a woman in her thirties with shiny dark hair and sun-kissed skin, greets us with a broad smile. “Mr. Adams. Congratulations. We’re so pleased to welcome you. We were told to arrange special transport for your excess luggage.”
I frown. “Excess?”
“The hold of your plane. There were several extra trunks.”
Jax leans his elbows on the desk. “You didn’t think what was on the plane was all you had to sign, did you? If Zeke’s team is anywhere as enthusiastic as I remember, they packed it full.”
My hand flexes, and Jax chuckles, clapping me on the back.
I refocus on the task at hand, turning back to the planner. “We had three late VIP additions checking in. Have they arrived?”
She consults her list. “Yes, they have. I’ll send you their villa numbers so you know where to find them.”
Jax and I agreed we’d meet with them officially tomorrow.
My phone buzzes, and I glance at the three villa numbers, a name beside each. “This must be a mistake.”
“What?” Jax demands.
The planner frowns and checks her phone. “I’m sorry, Mr. Adams. I was told there was a last-minute switch, but that is the correct name. He checked in with appropriate identification an hour ago.”
We picked three artists deliberately—two are Grammy winners, and the third has a social media following in the tens of millions.
But the third person on the rooming list isn’t the artist we chose.
Having a plane full of swag is a setback. Doing a deal the week of my wedding is a setback.
This, the name staring at me…
This is a fucking nightmare.