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“Yes,” Aidan said after a beat. “I do.”
ChapterSeven
Viv handed the customer their receipt and turned to help the next person in line, startled when she saw Evie and Libby across the counter.
“Everything okay?” Julia wondered, appearing at Viv’s elbow. “Did something happen with the wedding? The accident?”
Evie waved a hand in the air and smiled. “Everything’s fine. We were actually wondering if we could borrow you.” Evie pointed at Viv. “For the day.”
“Borrow me? I thought we weren’t meeting until Friday to go over the last-minute stuff for the party.”
“We’re not. This has nothing to do with the wedding. Call it sisterly bonding.” Evie glanced up when Sofia pushed through the swinging door that connected the kitchen to the front of the store. “Callahan sisters,” she amended. “Unless you’re too busy.”
Viv glanced at her mother’s nervous face, then back at Evie. She didn’t know Evie well; they’d only met a handful of times, but she seemed nice enough. A little reserved, very no-nonsense. She reminded Viv a lot of Sofia in that way.
And Viv knew Libby from their years that overlapped at school and Mafia functions. She had no reason not to trust them, no reason to wonder if there was a wrong answer here. Maybe, at the very least, she could get some insight into her future husband by spending time with them outside the perfectly choreographed production wedding planning had become.
“Can you spare me today, Mama?”
Julia hesitated but ultimately smiled. “Of course. If we really need some coverage, Zara can help until the kids are out of school.”
Viv slipped her apron over her head. “I have to grab my stuff from the back. I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
She pushed into the kitchen and hung her apron on a peg, grabbing her purse from the drawer in the office. She had no expectations of how this day might go or what might be expected of her. She only hoped she wouldn’t say the wrong thing or push the wrong buttons.
Evie was leaning against the hood of a royal blue Maserati, Libby at her side, when Viv rounded the side of the building. They looked friendly with each other. No, more than. They looked like friends, and it surprised Viv how much she wanted that too. These women would be a big part of her life from now on. She wanted them to like her.
“Sorry if we put you on the spot,” Evie said, tipping her sunglasses down her nose and shooting Viv an apologetic look. “It was a last-minute decision over breakfast.”
“Sisterly bonding?”
“Yeah,” Libby said. “We’ve decided to make it a thing. And we’re not even going to make you strip naked.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Viv wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into.
“Libby,” Evie said, tone dry but teasing at the edges. “Don’t scare the poor woman. Besides, we took you shopping. We didn’t make you streak across the front lawn.”
Libby chuckled. “That’s true. Though Brogan would’ve gotten even more of an eyeful if you had.”
Evie grinned and shook her head. The easy, teasing banter had the tension draining from Viv’s shoulders. She was used to this after growing up in a family with four other siblings and everyone vying for attention. Viv had learned to be the calm in the center of the storm, the steady one, the one who gave more than she took. It’s how she’d learned to survive.
“So,” she said, drawing Evie and Libby’s attention, “what’s on the itinerary?”
“I was thinking mani-pedis first.” Evie twirled her keys around her finger. “Then maybe some lunch.”
“Sounds good to me,” Viv said when Evie and Libby both slid her an expectant look.
“Perfect. First, some pampering.”
“Shotgun!” Libby yelled when Evie hit the button to unlock the car, and Viv chuckled.
They drove away from the bakery and toward the shops that, to Viv’s mind, announced the wealth of the people who lived on Philadelphia’s Main Line. Boutique stores with cream fronts and wrought iron accents, exclusive restaurants that only opened for dinner service, appointment-only salons and spas. A playground for the filthy rich.
Evie pulled into the parking lot of a salon and led the way inside. It was bigger than it looked from the outside, with soaring ceilings and ornate chandeliers hanging from long, thin chains. She thought the sound of a babbling brook was being piped in through speakers until she noticed the wall behind the receptionist’s desk was actually a waterfall, the water cascading over iridescent blue and green tiles into a narrow pool below.
“Can I help you?” A woman with brown hair twisted into a simple braid pinned around her crown looked up from the desk.
“I called earlier about a private room if you have one. Evie Callahan.”
