“Door’s already unlocked,” Eli says flatly.
“Right,” she says, palming her forehead. “Should’ve checkedthat first.”
We escape inside and head up an old staircase that’s definitely seen better days. The interior is somehow worse than the exterior, if that’s even possible, and the downstairs neighbor is playing heavy metal music that’s so loud, the walls are vibrating. The stair rail is sticky, the paint is peeling, and the door to her apartment is so thin, it looks like it couldn’t survive a solid knock.
Definitely not safe for Scarlett to be living here.
“You really don’t need to stay,” she says, taking her bag from me. “I’ve got it from here.”
I look around at the questionable living conditions. “After what you told me about your neighbors, I can completely understand why you’d want to move.”
“Well, I can’t move anytime soon. Not unless I get that vendor contract.”
“Then let’s make sure you get it.”
We step inside. The apartment is small with dated furniture—a worn couch that’s clearly seen better days, a mismatched coffee table, and a bookshelf crammed with paperbacks and every Taylor Swift album ever released on vinyl. Everything looks secondhand, but arranged with little touches that feel like her. Cheerful yellow curtains. Flowers on the table. Pretty mugs lined up on open shelves. Even with those small things though, it’s not a desirable place to live.
I look around, doing the math. A week at the Marco estate versus this.
“You know, the offer is still available,” I say. “The wedding week would at least get you out of here temporarily. Like a vacation.”
She’s quiet for a second, her eyes doing a slow sweep of her apartment. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. It’s sounding better all the time.”
“By the way, there’s something I need to ask you?—”
I pause, knowing what I’m about to say is a huge request. Becoming a bridesmaid isn’t just doing my sister a favor; it’s more wedding activities, more pressure, and more time pretending to bemy girlfriend. More of everything I’m already struggling to keep in check.
But the more time she spends with my family, the better her chances with my uncle. Which means this isn’t just Carmen’s favor. It’s a strategy to get that contract.
Her phone rings, and she digs it out of her bag. “It’s your sister. Why would Carmen be calling me right now?”
I freeze. If Carmen had just waited a few more minutes, I could’ve eased into the bridesmaid question myself. But my sister has no patience for waiting, especially with anything involving her wedding.
“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to discuss with you. There’s a favor I need to ask.”
“Oh. Maybe I should just talk to her directly?” She holds up the phone like she’s about to answer, but I snatch it from her hands before she can.
Her eyes widen. “Brendan! Why did you do that?”
“Because Carmen will try to pressure you into this, and she’s currently in full-scale panic mode about a wedding emergency.”
Scarlett frowns. “What kind of emergency?”
My phone starts ringing next, and I already know who it is without looking.
“Carmen, give me five minutes!” I bark into the phone, then hang up. I can only imagine what my sister is muttering on the other end.
Scarlett points at the phone. “Did you just hang up on your sister?”
“I have a good reason.” I silence both phones, then hide them under a couch pillow, just in case. “One of her bridesmaids had to drop out of the wedding—a long story involving a TikTok video and poor decision-making on a Swiss ski slope.”
Scarlett’s brow furrows.
“Anyway, Carmen was wondering…” I pause. “If you’d be willing to step in as a replacement.”
Scarlett blinks rapidly. “She wantsmeto be a bridesmaid?”
“Yes.” I nod. “It would mean a significantly larger time commitment than just being my date. Dress fittings, bridal showers, rehearsal dinners, bachelorette parties—a week of pretending to be my girlfriend in front of my entire extended family.”