9. Bailey

"She can't be here!"The bride's voice echoed through the cavernous corridor as I rushed down the hall of the hundred-year-old church to the dressing room.

I'd stepped outside for one minute to help the bride's mother to her car so she could head back to pick up the bride's father, and it appeared all hell had broken loose. I'd heard her shouting from outside while I waved Mrs. Harper off.

"Get her out of here!" The bride shrilled.

Billie exited the bridal suite, and I immediately knew we had a code red.

"Groom's ex-girlfriend. She spotted her out the window."

My chin dipped in acknowledgment as we passed each other in the hall. After being sisters our entire lives and working together for the past ten or so years, we silently knew what our roles would be. Billie would handle the ex, and I would handle the bride. We played to our strengths.

I mentally prepared myself to deal with emotional carnage as I entered the room and found Ariana sobbing as she pleaded with her bridesmaids, "What is she doing here!? Why is she here?"

Instantly, my mind switched to damage control. Makeup and hair had just left; we'd need them to come back. If the wedding was going to happen, that is. In my experience, it was fifty-fifty whether or not an ex showing up derailed the day's events. Actually, more like seventy-five to twenty-five in favor of the nuptials going forward.

"What is she doing here?!" Ariana demanded.

"I don't know. Do you want me to ask Rob?" Cara, the maid of honor, offered.

"Why would you ask Rob? Do you think he invited her here? Oh my god! Do you think she's going to object?"

Whenever people found out what I did for work, one of the first questions they asked was if I'd ever seen someone object when a bride and groom exchanged vows. Once. I'd seen it happen once. Even though I knew it was bad form, I had to admit that the romantic in me had swooned just a little. Internally, of course. I kept it professional externally.

In fairness, if the groom had been a decent guy, I wouldn't have been quite so inclined to have been swept up in the moment, even silently. But since the groom was a narcissistic asshole who had hit on me, Billie, and Birdie during the eighteen months we'd worked on his wedding, I was rooting for the objector.

I'll never forget. The guy was four rows back, and before the officiant even got the words "or forever hold your peace" out, the man, who I later learned was named Brian, was on his feet. He said that he objected because Hannah, the bride, deserved a man who woke up every day grateful that he had the opportunity to make her smile. She deserved a man who would go out and get her cookies and cream ice cream in the middle of a rainstorm while she sat in front of a fire. She deserved a man who would rub her feet at the end of a long day without being asked. She deserved a man who couldn't wait to hear the next words that were going to come out of her mouth because just hearing her speak was medicine for his soul.

The groom laughed at Brian's declaration while the bride cried. Happy tears. She left the wedding with Brian. The happy couple tied the knot the following month, just celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary, and were expecting their first child.

"Do you think this is all for content? Do you think they planned this? Is Rob going to leave me at the altar so they can get back together as some sort of stunt?" Ariana looked around the room for answers.

The bridesmaids all shared a look that told me the thought had crossed their minds. One of them looked down at their phone. I could tell it was bad news from Cara's expression.

Rob and Ariana were both social media influencers. Together, they had over five million followers. I still wasn't sure exactly what their job entailed. They were both incredibly good-looking and posted a ton of selfies. From what I'd seen, they basically did ads for products, filmed themselves on vacations, and doing dances.

"What?" Ariana demanded. "What is it?"

Cara turned the phone around to show the bride the screen. "Juliette is live streaming. And there's ten thousand people watching."

Apparently, Juliette, who I assumed was the ex who'd shown up, had a following too.

"What?!" Ariana shrieked.

There was a knock on the door, and I heard Rob shouting from the other side. "Ari, are you okay? I had no idea she was going to do this, baby! I swear! Let me in."

She nodded at me, and I opened the door. Rob walked in and beelined straight to his betrothed. Billie was right behind him.

"Baby!" When he reached Ariana, he pulled her into a hug.

"She's live streaming," my sister informed me. "I didn't want to make more of a scene.

"I'm so sorry! I can't believe she's doing this!" Rob leaned back and cupped Ariana's face in his hands. "I don't want her here! I just want you, baby!"

I could see the bride's face soften, and it looked like her wheels were turning. "You should go tell her that."

Cara and the bridesmaids didn't seem surprised at Ariana's suggestion.

"You want me to talk to her?" Rob reiterated.

"Yes. Tell her that."

Rob took his marching orders seriously. After kissing Ariana and telling her he loved her, he strode out of the room like a man on a mission. The bride and her bridal party all gathered around on their phones and watched as Rob told his ex that he didn't want her there and that he loved Ariana.

Ariana smiled, looking very pleased at the scene she was watching.

"This is totally going to go viral!" Tabitha, a bridesmaid, predicted.

Nothing made me feel more ancient than social media. I didn't understand how people could blow up their lives for ‘likes' or views. I mean, I understood it on an academic level. It provided a platform for people who were seeking attention for themselves or whatever products they were selling. It was sort of like the Wild West had been. Anyone could get rich if they struck gold, aka went viral. But at what cost? This bride had just decided to capitalize on her groom's ex showing up to her wedding in hopes that she might get more attention. She was already the bride of a five-hundred-person wedding; how much more attention did she need?

Thankfully, the rest of the day was much less eventful. There were no more surprise guests, and no one objected during the vows. The only thing of note was how attractive the wedding guests were. Everyone in attendance looked like they should have cameras following them around for a reality TV show. I wouldn't be surprised if at least a few of them did.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, and as the guests made their way to the cocktail hours, I spotted Cole in the crowd of suits and dresses. Even surrounded by other good-looking men, he stood out to me. Today, he was with a stunning brunette with legs that didn't stop. She had to be at least six-foot because, in heels, she stood an inch or two shorter than him.

"Isn't that the guy you were in the bathroom with?" Billie asked as we stood against the wall.

"Yep."

"That's not Jenna."

"Nope."

Before Billie could comment any further, there was an emergency with the groom's cake. Apparently, a drunk uncle had decided to dig into the red velvety goodness prematurely. I quickly called to have a replacement delivered.

The next couple of hours flew by. I was busy assisting the photographer after his assistant got ill. Once I saw the bride and groom off in their rented Bentley, I was relieved of photo assistant duty and realized I hadn't eaten all day. That happened more often than I'd like to admit. Feeling a little bit unsteady, I headed to the kitchen to grab a snack. After downing a few spinach and artichoke-stuffed mushrooms and two mini caprese skewers, I felt human again.

I walked out of the kitchen on my way to find Billie, and when I rounded the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. Cole's date was backed up against the wall, either receiving CPR or getting kissed within an inch of her life by a man who was not Cole. The man whose face she was sucking was blond, and he wore glasses. I stared for a moment; it was sort of like watching a car accident. I wanted to look away but couldn't. This was no peck. Nope, this was the cinematic end of a rom-com-worthy smooch. Not wanting to interrupt, I retreated back around the corner and was going to find another way to the ballroom when I heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, sorry. I was just…I was looking…"

It was Cole. I held my breath, waiting for what was going to happen next. He'd just caught his date kissing someone else.

"Enoch, can you wait for me outside?" the woman said.

Enoch. The man she was kissing was named Enoch? Not that there was anything wrong with that name; it's just…she was there with Cole, and she'd kissed a man named Enoch?

You're in love with a guy named Simon, Billie's voice pointed out in my head.

Inner-voice Billie had a point. I probably shouldn't throw stones.

"Sure," the other man agreed.

My heart was pounding as I listened to Enoch's heavy footsteps retreat. I told myself to leave, to give Cole and his gorgeous date the privacy they should be afforded. My head knew that was the right thing to do; unfortunately, my feet weren't getting the memo, and I remained firmly planted where I was.

When the door opened and shut, I heard the woman say, "You are going to get a very good Yelp review."

Yelp review?

"Thank you, but I'm not on Google," Cole responded.

Google?What the actual hell was going on?

"Right, discretion is key," the woman said, sounding happy. Happy. Not sorry.

"I'm just happy it all worked out," Cole said.

Happy?Now he was happy?

"I knew Enoch was never going to do anything if he didn't have a fire lit under him. And it had to come from him; he had to be the one to make the first move. I'm just glad he finally did, even if it did cost me three grand. He's worth it. Every penny."

"He's a lucky man, Layla."

"Thanks, Cole. I guess I won't be needing your services anymore. But, seriously, thank you; I couldn't have done this without you."

"It was my pleasure."

Three grand?

Services?

Trevor was right. He was an escort. I knew that shouldn't matter to me, and I suppose it didn't. It just…I couldn't imagine him having sex with women for money.

I listened as Layla's heels clicked on the tile floor, and then heard the door open and close. When my phone vibrated in my pocket, I held my breath, listening for Cole's steps and waiting for the coast to be clear. I pulled it out and saw that it was Simon calling.

Shit.He seriously did have the worst timing. My fingers felt swollen and clumsy as I attempted to put the phone on silent.

"Do you need to take that?"

I lifted my head and saw Cole standing in front of me.

"Um, no. I can… I'll call him back."

His eyes searched mine, and the scrutiny did not go unnoticed by my lady parts. Everything below my waist was tingling under his attention.

"How long were you standing there?"

"Um…" I licked my lips nervously. "I just, I was just, I hadn't eaten anything all day, so I went to the kitchen, and then I was coming back, and I came around the corner. I saw…you know they were kissing, so I—" I motioned to the corner of the wall I'd come back around. "—and I was going to leave, but then I heard you, and…then…I didn't leave."

"So, you heard me and Layla talking."

"Yes. But it's none of my business. I just, yeah…and it makes sense why I've seen you at so many weddings, because it's your job, right?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

For some reason, hearing him say it was his job was different than eavesdropping. My heart sank a little. I couldn't pinpoint why it bothered me more than if he was actually dating all those women. I guess the money exchange for sex was the difference. Not that I had a moral objection to it. Anyone could do anything that made them happy, as long as they weren't hurting anyone. It was just…I don't know. I wasn't sure where to put that.

"You're an escort," I said more to myself than him.

"It's not… I'm not an escort, the way you think. I have an app."

He pulled out his phone, touched the screen, then turned it around to face me. The letters TPOP were on it.

"Tee pop?" I sounded it out.

"Yes, T-P-O-P. The Plus One professional. I am a plus one for hire. But that's it. There's no… I don't… I just accompany people to events… I don't… It's not like… There's never any…"

"Hanky-panky?" I offered when I saw him struggling.

Hanky-panky?Had I just really said that out loud? That was worse than phone tag, you're it.

Why did I have to speak when I was nervous? And if I did speak, why did I have to say things like ‘hanky-panky'? It was nearly as embarrassing as sneezing when I got turned on. Speaking of that, I could feel my nose tickling now.

Cole's lips curled up at the edges in amusement. "Right. No hanky-panky," he rasped.

How in the world had Cole made the words hanky and panky hot? I had no clue, but somehow, he'd pulled it off. He took a step closer, and the tickle got worse as my nostrils flared of their own accord. No, no, no. I tried my best to stop it, but I couldn't.

My only saving grace was the fact that I managed to cover my mouth before my face exploded. "Achoo."

Just like when we'd been locked in the bathroom, he handed me a handkerchief.

"Oh, no, I still have your other one." It was sitting on my nightstand. I sniffed it every night before I went to sleep and every morning when I woke up, inhaling the sandalwood scent.

"Take it," he insisted.

My phone rang, and I saw it was Billie. "Sorry, I have to…" I lifted it to my ear. "Hey, I was just?—"

"The bride left her veil at the church."

I didn't want to leave Cole, but I knew the only reason she was telling me was because she also didn't want to go back. "Okay. I'll go."

I hung up the phone and sighed. "Sorry about that; um, I have to go, but it was nice seeing you."

If I wasn't mistaken, disappointment flickered in Cole's eyes. "You, too."

I wasn't sure what to say, so I just lifted my hand in an awkward wave. "I guess I'll see you around."

His chin dipped in a sharp nod. "See ya."

I turned and headed to the kitchen. With each step I took, I could feel his stare on me; the tiny hairs on my arms were standing on end. I glanced over my shoulder as I pushed the swinging door open, and sure enough, his eyes were locked on me. The heat from the ovens and stovetops was nothing compared to Cole's stare.

When I got to my car and started to drive away, I felt strange. I wasn't quite sure what to do with the information I'd just been given. Cole was a plus-one professional. So many questions were buzzing around my head. Did I believe him when he said that he didn't sleep with his clients? Did it matter if he did or not? How had he gotten into that line of work?

I might not have the answer to any of those things, but I knew one thing for sure. Trevor was going to be over the moon that he'd been right.