“It’s called building suspense,” Beck tosses back.
Then he cannonballs into the pool.
There’s a huge splash before he strokes down the pool and surfaces in the middle, tossing his hair back. He’s carefree, and it’s contagious. Still, I can’t completely join in because Rae’s comment is still echoing in my brain.
“You gonna pull a ‘my makeup will get fucked if I dive in’? Because I flew hours from LA to get away from that.”
Rae flips him off before jumping into the pool right on top of him.
I have to tell her about Harrison King. But the second I do, all the ease in this moment evaporates. Ease all of us have deserved.
He’s not even here yet. There’s nothing to do right now, I decide. So, I drain my margarita, leave the coffee, and follow them in.
A few minutes later, Elle’s gone somewhere to grab a giant unicorn float and drops into it, bobbing around us while we talk. It feels like school and nothing like it.
Rae looks past me, yanking off her sunglasses. “What the fuck is he doing here?”
I turn, seeing a figure in khakis and a white T-shirt. It takes a moment for recognition to set in, but when it does, I’m floored.
Finn Harvey approaches, one easy step at a time. It's as if no time at all has gone by since he was my mentor at Vanier even though I haven't seen him in more than three years, since I followed him to LA when Tyler and I were struggling and sang backup at a few of his gigs.
He’s handsome, and smug, and entirely at home on this island.
I haul myself out of the pool and drip across the patio to where he’s standing. “Finn? What are you doing here?”
Finn cocks his head, grinning. “You’re the one who invited me. Figured you needed a backup groom or something.”
My laugh is loaded with disbelief. “I invited you?”
“All I had to do was get on the plane that picked me up.”
I’m beyond confused, but something scratches the back of my brain. “You’re one of the artists from Wicked.”
His grin widens, accompanied by a slow survey of my body that takes longer than it should. “It’s good to see you again, Annie. I’ve been following your career with more than a little interest. And I like to think I had a hand in it.”
I glance over my shoulder to see Rae watching with interest, along with Beck and Elle. Something tells me they would be over here in a second if they thought something was wrong or I was in danger, but Finn and I are just talking.
The bartender appears at our shoulders, offering to bring Finn a drink.
Before I can protest, Finn asks, “What’s she having?”
“Coffee and a margarita,” the bartender responds.
Finn laughs. “I’ll take a vodka on the rocks.”
“So, Tyler invited you,” I say when the bartender disappears.
“See, that’s what’s fucked up about this industry. I know more than you do about the guy, and you’re marrying him.”
The words have me bracing for a fight. “That’s not true. He has his career, and I have mine. This week is about me and Tyler making a commitment in front of our family and friends. To each other.”
“Then why am I here?”
I pause because I don’t know where he fits in. From his raised eyebrow, Finn knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Let me give you one more piece of advice. A wedding present,” he goes on. “Artists are self-centered. They don’t commit to another person.”
His drink shows up, and he takes a sip before his gaze jerks past me, eyes narrowing on something in the distance.
“Well, this should be interesting.”