“What’s up, Elle?” Kat says on the other line when she picks up.

I balk, almost tripping over a moving box at the sound of her voice. Her cheery tone is still so shocking to me, and I can’t get over how much she’s changed in such a short amount of time.

My little sister is happy… and I’m over the moon about it.

“I, uh… Nothing, I guess… I... can’t really remember…” I stammer. “Kat, I don’t know… I just got thrown off. I can’t believe how fantastic you sound.”

She giggles—actually giggles—on the other end. “That’s because I am. I am fantastic. How are you, Elle?”

“Me? I’m fan-fucking-tastic. Mom has been calling me all day and night about what we should do for Ana’s graduation celebration, and you know how much I love it when she does that.

“Ted has been sending me letters, threatening to kidnap our dog because he’s still bitter about our break-up.

“Let’s see… Oh, yeah… I’m leaving the only home I’ve ever known to move to a city where I know no one and my sister and her fiancé have to financially support me…

“On the whole? I’d say that life is just swell.”

Kat laughs, recognizing my sarcasm for the humor-laden façade that it is.

“Yeah, it sounds really great.” Her laugh tapers off into a quick, mirthless silence.

“Look, Elle… I know that you’re nervous, but believe me; there isn’t anything to be nervous about. Brendon and I are just here to help until you get on your feet. That’s it.”

She sighs. “There’s nothing left for you in Memphis, and you know it.”

I grow silent over the phone, nearly knocking over another box. I nod as if she can see me. She’s right. There’s nothing left for me here.

Not a job. Not a relationship. Not a life…

It’s all gone to shit.

The dance studio where I worked is shutting down…

My ex-boyfriend Ted is trying to ruin my life…

And my two best friends in the world—my sisters—have escaped to the sunny state of Florida where the only connection we’ve managed to have with each other over the past few months has been through AT&T wireless.

This isn’t the sort of life I’d envisioned.

So, I’m going out on a limb, embarking on a fresh start—heading to Tampa.

I’m selling my house and using part of the profit to open up a dance studio—my own dance studio—where I can dance and teach without worrying about someone else closing down on me.

With all the disappointment happening for me in Memphis, I’m starting to recognize the importance of venturing out, making a change. Kat did it… and look how well it ended up for her.

She’s obtained her ideal… the man, the money and the profession. Now, all that’s left is to ensure that she has the ideal wedding.

And that’s where I come in.

The engagement party—the wedding.

You only get one chance, just one time to do it right. If all goes well, there will only be one wedding in Kat’s future.

And I am going to make sure that my little sister has the celebration of her dreams… if I have to kill myself (or Lukas) to do it.

***

LUKAS

 

“What do you know about Elena?” I say, adjusting my tie.

“Elena? Kat’s sister?

“Yeah. That Elena. Why? You know another one?”

Chris adjusts his sleeves in the mirror, turning around to check out his lapels.

“Nothing much—just what Foxx has told me… which isn’t a lot.”

I stiffen, staring pointedly at Chris. He catches my look, glancing quickly at the other customers in the tuxedo shop.

“What? Griff, I don’t know what you want me to say. I know the same things you know. Nothing.”

I frown, smoothing out my tuxedo jacket.

Chris knows nothing. I know nothing. And I have to come face-to-face with this girl in one week.

I know Chris isn’t lying. Foxx wouldn’t reveal much to me, either. When I asked him about Elena, he blew me off for the most part, warning me to stay away from her.

“Stay away from her.” What the fuck did Foxx think I was going to do? Fuck her from five hundred miles away?

I promptly told him that I wouldn’t touch Elena with a ten-foot pole. And I wouldn’t… but I am curious.

Over two and a half months of talking to this phantom voice—and I have no idea what the face behind it looks like.

Her pitch is deeper than her sister’s. Her laugh is husky and low.

When I first spoke to her on the phone, I was intrigued. I Googled her name. I found nothing. I’ve been in the dark ever since.

I don’t even know her age…

“Hey!” Chris says, snapping fingers near my face. “I’ve been talking to you.”

His face is as red as his strawberry-blonde hair, and he looks huffy and flustered in his pre-tailored tux. I almost laugh at his sudden outrage.

We make an odd pairing, he and I.

Where he has pale skin and red hair, I have a tanned coloring and deep brown hair, almost black. His stature, while not short, appears Hobbit-sized because of his poor posture. I, on the other hand, am built strong and long at 6”1’.

Chris places a hand on my shoulder.

“Get your head in the game, Griff. I need your opinion on this tux. I’ve gotta go. Lunch is almost up, and I’ve got a meeting with an editor at two o’clock.”

I sigh. I wish that Chris were handling this party planning with Elena; I really do.

But with Tripping Out! keeping his hours long and his temper short, I’m the only one left to oversee the party. And if you ask Elena, I’m not doing such a bang-up job of even that.

“So, how’s the party going, anyway?” Chris asks, intuitively.

“Ha.” I unhook the buttons at my cuffs. “Don’t ask. This planning’s turning into a major fucking pain.”

He shakes his head, shrugging out of his own jacket. “You know what’s even more of a pain? Ex-girlfriends showing up…”

I grin. “Which one of your former headaches is showing up to the engagement party?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” he grimaces. “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you.”

“Me? I’m the headache?”

“No… but you might have one at the party. I hear Trina’s trying to come.”

The color drains from my face. Trina.

My ex/”non-ex” Trina—the last girl I had any sort of “relationship” with.

Trina was fun when I met her—sexy and breezy—but when I decided that what we were having wasn’t working for me, she flipped, turning from a dream-come-true into a clingy nightmare.

I heard she had been dabbling in the Tampa druggie scene lately, but I’m not very inclined to believe it. Trina’s never been that type of girl. Or at least, she wasn’t…

I shake the notion off.

Doesn’t matter.

Considering how small the Tampa social circle is, I’m sure that every woman who hates me in this state—plus a few who aren’t—will be at this party.

Including one face-less, humor-less dragon herself…

***

Saturday night rolls around and for the second week in a row, I waver between whether or not to hit the downtown bars.

Chris refuses to hang out any later than midnight, and the run-in with the Roofie/X/God-knows-what pill has me on edge about picking up any new women.

I could easily visit some of my old haunts—both women and pubs, but I’m over those scenes. I’m bored. I need something different for a change.

I pull out my laptop while in my bed, searching for any new Tampa bars, when I get pinged on my Skype.

I glance at the alarm clock near my bed. It’s past eleven on a Saturday. Who the hell could be hitting me up now?

I open the message.

 

Elle-Lexy:

Where are you? I’ve been calling your phone all night and getting no answer. I want to talk to you about the music for the party.