Page 158 of Last First Kiss

Jordan knows it’s a rhetorical question. Obviously, Javi told her how.

“This was our golden ticket,” Kami continues. “We were one month away from changing the company’s trajectory. Back at the top. And it’s gone in a single night.”

Jordan bites hard on the inside of his cheek.

“Amy went from a happy bride-to-be to drunkenly telling off her future in-laws in front of fifty guests,” Kami fumes. “And where was the wedding planner? Where was the person I trust most?”

Flat on his ass and wasted over a relationship that never existed, Jordan refrains from saying.

“Sick.”

“Sick,” Jordan echoes sadly to his knees, before jerking his head up. “Wait, come again?”

“The McClintocks said you disappeared,” Kami tells him. “You got sick and went home early. Left Javi in charge.”

“I… did?”

“That’s the story.”

“Javi said that?”

She nods.

Jordan’s brow creases, confused. Javi never mentioned to anyone what really happened. That it was all Jordan’s fault. And the only other person who knows—Amy—isn’t answering her phone. But why would Javi do that?

Why would he bail Jordan out?

Kami squints at him, arms crossed.

He could lie. It’d be so easy. But Kami’s right. Every step of his career, she’s trusted him to do what’s right. Be the best.

Jordan’s not that pissed-off thirteen-year-old anymore. He’s an adult. He can own his fuckups.

He clears his throat. “I’m the reason Amy went from happy to nuclear overnight. Over champagne, actually.”

Kami waits for him to continue.

Sighing, Jordan recounts what happened.Mostof what happened. He leaves out the fight with Jamie and the Peterses. But he mentions finding Amy crying. Then he backtracks to every instance when Amy hadn’t been the cheery bride-to-be. How he tried to remain neutral, but, in that singular moment, he couldn’t watch her fall apart.

“It wasn’t fair to her,” he says.

“Was it fair to Sam?”

“What?”

Kami’s expression sharpens. “Did you think about Sam? Did you remember that, as the wedding planner, they’rebothyour clients?”

Jordan hesitates. “No.”

“Before you go handing the bride a bottle of champagne so she can work through her feelings, consider invitingthe groomto talk to her.”

“It’s not like he’s been there before.”

“Guess what, Jordan? You’re an event coordinator. Not a marriage counselor.”

Jordan’s jaw clenches. “I know, but—”

“You put our reputation on the line,” Kami interrupts. “Allbecause you couldn’t separate 24 Carter Gold Jordan from Jordan the friend.”