Collette and I spent the afternoon discussing everything from creative direction and photography concepts to timelines and the overall story she wanted to tell.
I couldn’t help but notice that Carina wasn’t present for any of this. I didn’t think she’d be the type to skip a professional meeting. Especially one revolving around not only her but her wedding. Collette’s excuse was that Carina was busy with wedding festivities and bridal duties, but I wasn’t entirely convinced. The more we conversed, the clearer it became that Collette was in control of her daughter’s wedding story.
I almost felt like I was sitting with a version of my own mother. Another woman whose love for her daughter translated into managing every detail of her life.
“But are you okay with it?”
Othello’s question interrupts my thoughts.
I turn my eyes from the window and look at him. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I guess ‘cause this trip is a sharp turn from your vacation agenda in part to me already. Now you’re basically working when you’re supposed to be relaxing.”
I sigh and then shrug.
“You’re right, my vacation is not going as planned. But when you love what you do, it’s not really work, right?”
Othello’s eyes collide with mine, and he reaches over, taking my hand in his. That familiar jolt of electricity shoots through me the moment our fingers touch. His thumb rubs over the back of my hand, and I press my knees together, trying to ignore that throb between my legs.
“That’s exactly why you’re so good at what you do,” he says, his voice dropping to a comforting murmur. “Your passion is rare, Marley. Don't apologize for that. Just promise me you won’t burn yourself out before the trip is over. You’ve already taken a big detour for my sake, tying you up with all this.”
He pats my thigh.
“Let’s make a deal. You can chase your story in the morning, but the afternoons and nights belong to enjoying Maui. Deal?”
“Deal,” I answer bashfully.
“Cool.”
He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close to him. The woodsy citrus scent of him is mesmerizing. How good would this feel if it were true? I push off of him, sitting upright.
“Othello, we don’t have to, you know…pretendwhen we’re alone.”
“Who says I’m pretending? I’m genuinely happy for you. This is going to be great, and I think you are going to kill it.”
My heart flutters at that. “Thank you,” I murmur softly.
He looks away from me, turning to stare out the window, but I don’t miss the disappointment on his face.
His cell phone buzzes with a notification, and he pulls it from his pocket. His eyes scan the screen after he unlocks it, and he shakes his head.
“The guys are reminding me to meet them in the lobby in an hour. I forgot we’re scheduled to go fishing on some boat.”
“Fishing in Maui sounds like some good bonding time. Have you and Gavin talked?”
“Nah, not yet.”
“Are you waiting until he asks you for the wedding rings?” I tease.
Othello laughs at this. “Nah, I just… I don’t know.”
“You can’t exactly avoid the groom, Othello. Youarethe best man.”
“I’m aware.”
“Do you, though? By the way you’re acting, I thought maybe you forgot,” I tease.
“I haven’t forgotten. Trust me,” he drags out. “I guess I’m waiting for it to happen naturally. Or for him to approach me first. I wasn’t the one who lied.”
