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“Did he find you?” the bartender asks.
He?
I blink, confused.
“Winter?” the guy asks, calling me by my sister’s name. “Are you okay?”
And the mystery is solved: he thinks I’m my twin.
“Sorry,” I say, smiling. “Wrong sister. I’m Summer. We haven’t met.”
The dude’s eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, you look exactly the same.”
“I know, identical twins and all… So, you’ve met Winter? When?”
“It must’ve been, what, almost a year ago now.”
“Wow, you have a good memory.”
He winks. “Part of the trade and your sister’s story was too unique to forget. A treasure hunt, being abducted in the jungle by rogue militia.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “My sister never does things in half measures. Gave my parents a heart attack.”
“Oh, well, she didn’t seem too upset about the kidnapping. She was more concerned with the archeology professor leading the expedition not loving her. Winter told me her story when she grabbed some breakfast here before a flight, and after she left, what do you know, the dude in question showed up. He was brooding over a lost jungle love, and when I told him his lady had just left, he chased her halfway down the airport—guess hewasin love. But I never heard how it ended.”
“Well.” I sigh, contrasting emotions swirling in my head—mushy joy, a bit of jealousy, and a boatload of terror. “He proposed two months later and they’re getting married in three weeks…”
I hope I’ve kept the dread from my voice. I swear I couldn’t be happier for my sister. But her wedding is going to span over a week to accommodate most of the groom’s guests, who will fly in from all over the world. For Logan’s friends, it wouldn’t have made sense to travel to the States only for a weekend. And the bride and groom jumped at the opportunity to extend the celebrations to a full vacation.
And, normally, a week-long destination wedding in Napa would sound like a dream. I’d be looking forward to a break made of nothing but relaxation, wine tasting, and family time. While the celebration of love would be the cherry on top of my romance-loving cake.
Butthis wedding, I won’t enjoy. All my ex-friends are invited. People who will stare, judge, and talk behind my back. The thought makes me want to crawl into a dark corner and never come out.
But I can’t. For my sister, I’ll put on a brave face, a fake smile, and trudge Monday through Sunday like a real soldier. Because Winter doesn’t deserve to have my poor choices ruin the most important day of her life.
“Whoa.” The bartender’s smile is wide and genuine as he reacts to the wedding announcement; he hasn’t picked up on my internal turmoil. Guess the past year has taught me how to pretend well. “Engaged and getting married in less than a year. That was quick,” he says.
“Yeah, Logan is still working in Thailand most of the time, and a late-spring wedding was the only opening in both their schedules.”
“I’m Mark, by the way.” The bartender extends an arm forward. “Nice to meet you.”
“Summer,” I repeat, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“And sorry,” Mark apologizes. “I’ve been monopolizing the conversation. What can I get you?”
I stare at the juicer machine behind him. “You make fresh orange juice?”
“Yes.”
“An OJ, then, and a sandwich if you have any.”
“We do,” Mark says. “Is cheese and ham fine?”
I nod.
He prepares the food and puts the sandwich on the grill to heat. With the push of a few buttons, he sets the timer and moves on to the OJ, selecting two oranges from a metal basket above the machine and feeding them into the juicer.
Two minutes later, he puts a coaster on the counter and serves me my juice. “So,” he says. “What brought you to The Big Apple? Business or pleasure?”
