Mix 'N Match (No Match for Love) (27 page)

“Yeah, but maybe he’ll guess that we’re trying to throw him off the trail.”

“And maybe he’ll believe our story.”

“When did you become the optimist?”

“I guess you bring out the best in me.”

Zoey’s cheeks flushed, and she fumbled for her phone, desperate for a distraction. “Dinner is still three hours away.”

“Now it’s in an hour. Brooke and Luke decided to move up the time, since we’ll have an early morning with the rehearsal.”

Zoey nodded, her stomach rumbling like she’d swallowed Mexican jumping beans. “I guess you got everything confirmed with Versailles for tonight?”

“Yes.”

“This feels so weird, like a breach of the best friend code or something.”

“You’re doing this to help Brooke.”

“Yeah, but I’m still stealing her wedding venue. I better call Brooke and let her know we’ve got a tail.”

“Is it even worth it to try and lose him? He’s keeping his distance, and he’ll just use the tracker and find us again.”

“Yeah, but if we don’t try to lose him, it might look suspicious, especially since we can’t lose him on the way to Versailles.”

Mitch finally nodded. “Okay. Call Brooke.”

Brooke answered almost immediately, her rosy cheeks and wide smile filling the screen. “Hey. Are you on your way to the restaurant? I desperately need help with my makeup. I still can’t get that smoky eye quite right.”

Zoey wanted to cry. Alan wasn’t ruining this wedding just for the bride and groom—he was ruining it for her, too. “I’m not sure I’ll be there in time.”

Brooke’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve got a tail, so we might be a little late.”

“He’s not going to leave us alone, is he?”

Zoey wished she could reach through the phone and hug her friend.
Soon enough,
she told herself. They would lose Alan, and she would make it to that rehearsal dinner on time.

Alan better hope she made it, or Zoey would personally hunt him down and make him wish he’d never come to Paris.

“I promise you, Brooke, nothing will happen to ruin this for you,” Zoey said. “Mitch and I have it one thousand percent under control. I don’t want you—or Luke—to worry about a thing. Okay?”

“Okay,” Brooke said quietly. “I’ll try.”

“I know it’s hard. But focus on what this weekend means. In less than twenty-four hours, you will be Mrs. Luke Ryder.”

Brooke’s smile returned, but it was dimmer than it had been before. “I can hardly believe it.”

“See you at the restaurant, okay? Your makeup looks amazing.”

“Okay, but I wanted your opinion on my dress, too.”

“You’re changing at the restaurant?”

Brooke looked around. “Well, yeah. We’ve been running around with Juliette all day, and there wasn’t time to go back to the hotel.”

“Your dress is stunning.”

“You can’t even see it.”

“Doesn’t matter. I know you’re glowing in it, and Luke won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”

Brooke laughed, some of her former sparkle returning. “I’ve missed you, Zo. See you soon.”

Zoey waved, then disconnected the call, resolve flooding through her.

“Let’s get on with it,” she told Mitch. “I am not letting that idiot make me miss one second of my best friend’s wedding.”

“You heard her, Phillipe,” Mitch said. “Let’s lose him.”

The next twenty minutes were terrifying. Aware they’d seen him, Alan stayed hot on their trail as Phillipe darted in and out of traffic, around corners, and through red lights. Eventually, they couldn’t see Alan anymore.

“I think we lost him,” Mitch said. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh. “Hopefully he finds us again quickly, and then stays far enough away we can believably ignore him.”

“He’d be an imbecile to get too close when he thinks the wedding is happening,” Zoey said. “That was reckless.”

“He’s getting greedy and it’s making him dumb. Probably imaging what he’ll spend that fifty thousand dollars on.”

“Let’s hurry and get to the rehearsal dinner then, before he decides to be stupid and let us see him again.”

Phillipe pulled up to a white stone high-rise, and Mitch and Zoey got out of the car. She didn’t see Alan, but he’d show up soon enough. Would he try to follow them into the building? At least Brooke and Luke were already safely aside, away from his prying eyes.

Zoey and Mitch rode the elevator to the top floor. The doors slid open, and they stepped out.

Five doors stood along the three walls, but Zoey knew immediately which one was the restaurant, because an imposing man guarded it. He was dressed all in black, with a silver nameplate on the right breast pocket. Zoey could just make out the coiled wire leading to his ear piece.

“Good evening,” the man said—a security guard, she was sure.

“We’re here for the rehearsal dinner,” Mitch said, pulling the invitations out of his pocket.

The guard nodded, taking the invitations. He carefully compared their names against the guest list. Zoey tapped her foot impatiently, glancing at the delicate silver watch on her wrist. Alan had cost them twenty minutes.

At least if he decided to come inside the building, he wouldn’t be able to get inside the restaurant. Hopefully he still had no idea Brooke and Luke were in the country. It made her feel marginally better.

The security guard handed the invitations back to Mitch. “You can go inside,” he said.

They’d made it.

Zoey peered around the restaurant, looking for Brooke. Floor-to-ceiling windows on all sides boasted a fantastic view of the city. Round tables were set with elegant china, and beautiful candelabras lit each table.

Brooke let out a squeal and ran across the room, then folded Zoey in a hug. “I was so worried you wouldn’t make it because of that awful reporter.”

“There is no way I would miss this.” Zoey gave her friend a tight squeeze.

“Well, Juliette assures me Alan can’t get in here, even if he somehow shows up. But I’d really rather he not know we’re in Paris.” Brooke grabbed both Mitch and Zoey’s arms and dragged them toward the front of the room. “You guys are at the head table with us.”

Luke walked over and brought Mitch in for a clap on the back. “Glad you made it,” he said. “How’s the situation with Alan?”

“Under control.” Mitch raised a meaningful eyebrow.

“Good.” Luke pulled Brooke in, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. “See, everything’s fine. Do you think you can relax now and just enjoy the night?”

Brooke laughed, laying her head on Luke’s chest. “No promises, but I’ll try. Oh look, your mom’s here. We’d better go say hi.” She gave Zoey another hug. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done the last few weeks, Zo. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“Anything for you.” Zoey gave Brooke one last squeeze. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

Brooke nodded, and she left with Luke to greet their guests.

Dinner was blissfully calm. The food was fantastic, the setting small and intimate. Brooke’s parents both gave a toast, along with Luke’s mom. The laughter and alcohol were plentiful. But Zoey barely touched her wine.

No one liked a drunk bride.

Zoey picked at her dessert, unable to enjoy the banana and Nutella
crêpe
. Her stomach was a tight ball of nerves.

Brooke sank into the chair beside Zoey, letting out a sigh. “What a night.”

Zoey forced her nerves away. “A pretty amazing night, Mrs. Ryder.”

“Not for another few hours.” But Brooke glowed with happiness. “I’ve been watching you and Mitch tonight.”

Zoey let out a groan. “Don’t go there.”

“What? I think you two could make a cute couple. That’s not what I want to talk about, though. Zoey, I know.”

Zoey’s heart thudded in her chest. Had Luke spilled the beans? Mitch, maybe? And now Brooke would try and talk her out of the fake wedding. “Brooke—”

She held up a hand. “No, let me talk. Zo, why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve been thrilled for you. I
am
thrilled for you.”

Wait. Were they talking about the same thing? “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“You left your computer on the morning you left. I went into your room to turn it off, and your schedule was pulled up.”

Zoey let out a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait. You know about the makeup?”

“Yeah. What did you think I was talking about?”

“Nothing.” The wedding was still a secret, at least. Zoey’s shoulders slumped, and she didn’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. “I’ve wanted to tell you about that for so long.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I thought it would disappoint you.”

Brooke laughed, wrapping an arm around Zoey and pulling her close. “Disappointed? I’m insanely proud of you. At first I was mad you hadn’t told me, but I always knew you wouldn’t stay at Toujour forever. Makeup artistry is perfect for you.”

“You’re really okay with this?”

“Yes. That schedule was so full. I don’t know how I haven’t noticed sooner.”

“You’ve been distracted.”

“If you want to quit Toujour, Zo, that’s okay with me. I’ll miss you, but I understand.”

A weight lifted off her shoulders, and Zoey felt like she was floating. What had she been so afraid of? Brooke was supportive, just as she’d always been.

Brooke gave her another squeeze. “We’ll talk about it when I get back, okay?”

“Deal.”

Brooke wandered away to talk with one of the guests, and Zoey slumped back against her chair, hardly believing what had just happened. She was free.

Mitch slid into the chair Brooke had just vacated. “Alan’s outside,” he said, his voice low. “He tried to get up to this floor, but they told him it was a private party, and he didn’t press. He’s got a long-range lens and has been photographing the building.”

“Trying to get a shot of someone through the windows?” Zoey guessed.

“Probably, but there’s no way to prove it. The windows have a dark enough tint that he’ll be hard-pressed to get a clear shot, but I think it’s time.”

Zoey swallowed hard, her palms turning clammy. “Let’s do this, then.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’re so close to the finish line. I’m not about to let everything implode now.” She motioned to Brooke and Luke, laughing near the windows. “You see how happy they are. I’ll do anything to make sure they stay that way for another twenty-four hours. After they’re on their honeymoon, it won’t matter anymore.”

“If Alan finds out we faked the wedding, it’ll be all over the papers.”

Zoey smirked. “A good scandal will keep life from getting dull.” And she’d use the publicity to drum up clients for her makeup business. Toujour would soon be but a memory.

“Okay then.”

Slowly, tentatively, he reached out his hand. Zoey stared at it, emotions tumbling in her mind like clothes in a dryer. Everything depended on selling this show to Alan.

She reached out, wrapping her fingers around Mitch’s. Their hands linked together, her lightly tanned skin looking almost pale against his dark hand. Two complete opposites, but in the last two weeks, she’d realized they could complement each other. “Ready.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, the pressure like a mini hug, filling her with determination.

“Let’s do this thing,” Mitch said.

After a quick conversation with the security guard, they stepped into the elevator, hands still clasped. Zoey’s knees shook so badly she worried she’d fall off her six-inch heels. She didn’t know what scared her more—the possibility of not succeeding tonight and Alan ruining the wedding tomorrow, or the fact that she and Mitch were working together, and well.

“If we’re going to do this right, we’ve got to make it believable,” Mitch said.

Zoey nodded. “And Alan can’t know that we know he’s following us. If he thinks we’re letting him get the pictures, the gig is up.”

“Agreed. No eye contact and no glancing his way. One of Luke’s security team will follow us to make sure Alan is there when we have the wedding.”

Have the wedding—not get married. Because they wouldn’t be getting married. Not really. Would this whole faux wedding have any sort of an emotional impact on Mitch?

Zoey took a deep breath. Just as the elevator doors opened, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. Zoey stiffened.

“Act natural,” he said. “We’re about to get married. Sell it.”

Zoey laughed in answer, nuzzling closer to him. She placed a soft kiss at the hollow of his neck, her lips tingling with the contact. “I can sell ice to an Eskimo,” she said.

“Good. That’s exactly what we need to make this crazy plan work.”