Page 29 of Meant For Love

He nods at me and hightails it away from me. “Wait, did he think I was going to marry him?” I ask myself as I see him stopping next to my mother and my aunts Allison and Zoe, who I’m named after. All three are wearing black bikinis, not identical, but all with white linen cover-ups. Each of them is wearing a straw hat to hide the sun from their face with sunglasses. I hope when I’m older I have the confidence they have and also their style. I mean, it’s normal for my mother since she’s the stylist to the stars. She started working as a personal shopper when she was younger, then started Zara’s Closet. Now she’s one of the most sought-after stylists in Hollywood. She even has a staff of fifty working for her.

Neither of them sees me yet, but it’s as if my mother knows I’m nearby because she quickly looks my way, then puts both her hands to her mouth. I wait for it, knowing the soft and sweet Zara isn’t going to stay for very long. “In three.” I take a sip of my drink. “Two.” The minute I say two, her hands fall from her face, and she whips off her sunglasses. “One.”

It takes Zoe and Allison a minute to look my way, and their eyes go to me when they do. Zoe’s face mimics my mother’s, while Allison rolls her lips, trying not to smile in my direction. My mother makes her way to me like a bull chasing the red flag in Spain. “Jesus.” I look over to see my cousin Zara walking my way, wearing a bikini top and cover-up around her hips. “Prepare to be hung out to dry,” she mumbles quickly before the women get here. “The plane ride here was so much fun.” She grabs the drink from my hand. “Thanks for that.”

“Zoey Allison Richards,” my mother says between clenched teeth.

“I don’t even think that’s your middle name,” Zara shares, “but you were often compared to her, so she might be confused.”

“I thought my middle name was Parker.” I make the mistake of speaking, and my mother’s eyebrows pinch together even more.

“Don’t you start with me,” she huffs. “Do you know what we’ve been through these past two days while you were radio silent?” She leans in.

“I wasn’t radio silent.” I hold up my hand. “I spoke to Dad.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. Who do you think had to tame his ass?” She folds her arms over her chest. “Who do you think had to talk him and your uncles from signaling the phone chain, followed by getting on a plane and tracking you down in Vegas?”

“Um,” I say softly, “you?”

“You got that right.” She unfolds her arms. “It was me.” She points at herself. “Me, your mother, who had to find out you got married when your brother called and almost had a coronary on the phone. You decided to send him a picture of your wedding at four o’clock in the morning.” I really have to take the time and go through my fucking texts and see who else I sent it to.

“If I can just cut in here for a second. She also posted it on Instagram, so it’s not like she was trying to hide it,” Zara defends. “Should we not take this time to congratulate her on becoming a bride?”

“Stay out of this,” both her mother and my mother snap her way.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me. I have a man who asked for my hand in marriage, and we are getting married next year.” She holds up her hand.

“He never asked for your hand in marriage.” Her mother glares at her. “And why is that?”

“Okay, I think we’re getting off topic here.” She looks at me. “It’s Zoey’s day.”

“Thanks.” I look over at her.

“Just helping you out,” Zara says, as if she actually helped the situation instead of infusing it even more.

“Why don’t we just take a second,” Allison suggests, “and one, ask her if she’s okay.” She looks at me. “Are you okay?”

I shrug. “I guess so,” I answer, not sure what to say.

“She guesses so.” My mother pffts. “Seriously, Zoey, what the hell were you thinking?”

“She was caught up in the moment,” Allison declares. “You are there with the love of your life, and you just want to be together forever.”

“Um…” Zara holds up her finger. “I don’t think we are at the love stage in their relationship.”

“Seriously.” I practically stomp my foot. “Shut up,” I hiss at her.

“What?” She holds up both hands. “I’m helping.”

“Help by shutting up,” her mother says, “and minding your business.”

“Fine,” she pouts, taking a sip of the drink she took out of my hand. “I’ll just be here for moral support.”

“Listen.” I hold up my hand. “I’m so sorry you found out the way you found out. It was not cool.”

“It was totally not cool,” my mother agrees, her voice going soft. “You’re my only child.”

“Um…” Zara holds up a finger. “What about Stone?”