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Authors: Cecily von Ziegesar

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BOOK: Love the One You're With
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“What’s up?” Layla asked, confusion in her eyes.

“Look, I know you might hate me after I tell you this… but you need to know. Riley and I kissed on Friday. It was before you and I talked and I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to be mad,” Baby said in a rush of words. She looked down at her neatly lilac-polished fingernails. They looked like someone else’s hands. Just as her confession felt like someone else’s. “I’m sorry,” she added desperately. She felt tears beginning to well up.

“That day you and Riley went riding,” Layla said slowly.

Bab nodded miserably. “We kissed. It just… happened,” Baby added, hating the way the phrase echoed in her ears. It didn’t just happen, not really. It had happened because Riley was cute and interesting and he’d be the type of guy Baby would have loved to have gotten together with in another time or place.

Layla sighed slowly. “It’s okay.”

Baby glanced up at Layla. Her mouth was set in a firm, hard line.

“I mean, I wish you had told me earlier, but it’s not really a surprise. I had seen you and Riley flirting that first day. Maybe I needed to see him flirt with another girl to make it clear that we’ve moved on from each other,” Layla mused.

“I’m really sorry,” Baby said again. “I knew it was wrong, and I wanted to tell you, but I was just afraid you’d never talk to me again. I’m just…” She trailed off, and then looked Layla in her green eyes. “I’m just really glad you’re going to be my sister.”

Layla’s face broke into a genuine smile. “I guess I’m certainly getting a crash course in sibling relations this trip.”

Just then, Avery burst back into the room. “Baby, come on,” she demanded, almost tapping her foot,

“It’s okay,” Layla said, standing up. “Hug?”

Baby nodded, then threw her arms around her stepsister-to-be’s skinny frame. “Thank you,” she murmured into her hair. “Thank you for being my big sister.”

Layla smiled back. “Anytime. And hopefully, after today, a lot of the time.”

Finally, Avery had succeeded in herding the family down to the beach. The wedding party was accompanied by Hamish, a kilt-wearing Brooklyn performance artist friend of Edie and Remington’s who’d just arrived on Shelter Cay that morning and who was serving as their officiant.

Because nothing says official like a kilt.

Remington and Edie’s procession took them from the villa steps to the beach as Riley and Layla sang a surprisingly sweet version of the Peter, Paul, and Mary song “(Wedding Song) There Is Love.” Folk music was never going to be Avery’s thing, but she had to give them props for trying. She still couldn’t believe she’d managed to get everyone dressed and all in the same place at once, but here they all were.

“Everyone here, then?” Hamish asked, his back facing the ocean.

In front of him stood Remington, looking handsome in a seersucker suit. Edie stood beside her husband-to-be, wearing the Ralph
Lauren dress. Avery had been right—it was perfect on her, making her look young, vibrant, and naturally beautiful, a younger
version of Meryl Streep from the movie
Mamma Mia!

Minus the singing. For now.

“All right then,” Hamish announced, yelling over the sound of the waves.

“Actually, let’s all stand in a circle!” Edie bellowed. “Better energy. What I’m thinking is sort of a May Day pagan ritual
scene,” she explained, as if she were an avant-garde theater director. Avery grinned, suddenly finding her mom’s over-the-top
ideas endearing. The confused group slowly sorted itself into a circle. Rhys was standing next to Avery, and she squeezed
his hand. He squeezed hers right back.

On the other side of the circle stood Baby and Layla, fingers linked in a show of sisterly solidarity. Jack and Owen stood
next to each other, and Owen was smiling at Remington and his mom. Riley, not part of the wedding party, was standing with
the crowd of fifty-plus people—word had spread at the resort that an impromptu wedding was taking place, and suddenly everyone
was invited—gathered on the beach.

“Love is all around,” Hamish announced grandly. “Edie and Remington are two people who don’t need permission for anything.
So who am I to tell them what to do? You’re married, you can kiss whomever you want!” he announced.

Short and sweet.

Edie grinned. “Remington, I love you!” she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. Avery threw her arms around Rhys’s neck.
Baby and Layla hugged each other tightly.

“All right, time to have fun!” Edie announced brightly. “Remington, let’s race!” She tossed her bouquet of orchids behind
her and skipped up the limestone beach steps, Remington following her, a ridiculously cheesy grin on his face.

As the wedding party made its way to the villa complex, where the reception was being held, Baby felt a light touch on her
arm. She turned to see Riley, looking adorable in a pair of khakis and a white linen button-up, the top button undone and
his dark hair tousled from the beach breeze.

“Hey,” he said, his dark eyes scanning hers. “Congratulations,” he added, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. Baby wasn’t
sure if you were supposed to congratulate the daughter of the bride, but her cheek tingled where his lips had brushed it.

“Thanks,” she said, being careful to walk a foot away from Riley, even though their bodies seemed to pull toward each other
with a force of their own. “I guess they really did it,” Baby said, smiling at her mom’s retreating back, Remington’s arm
drawn around her small waist.

“I guess they did,” Riley said with a boyish grin. “And speaking of people making things happen…” He trailed off, and Baby
had a feeling she knew what was coming. “I’d really like to see you again. Ithaca’s not exactly close to the city or anything,
but I come in some weekends. Maybe we could get coffee sometime?” He gazed at Baby. His tone was hopeful, and yet she could
tell he was sure she was going to say yes.

Baby looked straight ahead as she mulled it over. Two days ago—two hours ago, even—she’d dreamed of this exact scenario: Riley
and Layla breaking up, of their own accord. Baby having the chance to see Riley again, guilt-free. But as she glanced over
at Layla, who was saying something to Avery, her head thrown back in laughter, a new sensation came over her. It wasn’t guilt.
It wasn’t lust. It was just… caring. She cared about Layla, and about her new family. She was starting to think that Layla
might be the more important relationship to foster here.

Baby turned back to Riley. “Thanks,” she said, and he grinned, probably already planning their next rendezvous. “But no thanks,”
she finished. She gave him a final, lingering kiss on the cheek, and made her way over to her sisters.

everything comes out in the wash

Avery grinned in satisfaction as she surveyed the villa complex. Yvette and her team had worked around the clock last night
to surround the pool with white lights and gauzy white tents. Food was piled everywhere, and guests mingled with tropical
drinks in their hands. Avery recognized a couple of the swim team guys as well as a couple of her mom’s weird artist friends,
who were currently sitting by the side of the pool, engaged in a spontaneous drum circle.

“This is terrific,” Rhys said as he walked over to Avery from the bar, carrying two icy glasses of rum punch. “
You’re
terrific.”

Avery smiled as they made their way over to a small cluster of guys from the swim team. Genevieve and Jiffy hadn’t come. They’d
missed the last trip that Remington’s Gulfstream had made this morning—apparently due to Genevieve’s need for a last-minute
bikini—and had texted saying congratulations and that they’d see her at school this week. Avery knew she should be disappointed
that she wouldn’t have the chance to show off Rhys to everybody. But she found that she really didn’t care.

“So, you’re saying you perform nude? That sounds great,” Hugh Moore said loudly from a few feet away, where he was in the
midst of a conversation with one of Edie’s yoga-toned performance artist friends.

“Hugh’s making friends already.” Rhys shook his head. “See what I was dealing with?” Avery squeezed Rhys’s hand. She was
so
glad he wasn’t like that.

Remington clapped his arm around Avery’s back. He was holding Edie’s hand as if afraid to let go. “You did a great job planning
this.” Avery smiled. She’d never seen her mom so vibrant and happy.

“And to think, we’ve been waiting for over twenty years to do this,” Edie murmured.

“I’d have waited another twenty!” Remington roared.

Rhys cleared his throat. “Congratulations, sir!” he announced, holding out his hand.

“Thanks, son!” Remington shook his hand. “Oh good Lord, it looks like Susan is resurrecting her nude performance art.” He
frowned over in Hugh’s general direction. “I’ll put a stop to that. After all, we’re not twenty anymore!” He laughed.

Avery quickly looked away, since she
really
didn’t want to see Hugh’s attempt at performance art. She saw Jack coming from the bar, two glasses of champagne in her hand.

“Hey,” Jack called. “I brought you a drink. Oh, you have one,” she noted as she got closer. “Can I borrow Avery for a second?”
she asked Rhys.

“I’ll be back,” Avery murmured, letting her fingers brush against his. She wasn’t mad at Jack, not anymore. But she should
probably tell
her
that.

They made their way through milling guests and waiters over to the small wood gazebo that overlooked the ocean. Avery sat
down on the glider swing in the center, pushing it back and forth with her foot. “I’m sorry I was sort of a bitch last night,”
she said finally.

“One of us has to be. That’s kind of how we’re friends, right?” Jack said with a wry smile. She settled next to her on the
swing.

“True,” Avery allowed. She took one of the glasses of champagne. It was weird how she and Jack could go from enemies to friends
and back again. Still, it felt right.

“I broke up with J.P.,” Jack said finally.

“Oh.” Avery wasn’t sure what else to say. Now it seemed Jack and Owen were free to date. Well, good. Avery didn’t know why
she’d been so bent out of shape about it before—maybe it was just the idea of her friend and her brother having fun without
her. The idea that they didn’t need her. But really, she just wanted everyone to be as happy as she was. “So, you want to
go out with Owen?” Avery asked, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Jack blushed, gazing down at her ecru Calvin Klein sheath dress. “Would you be mad if I did?” she asked, her pretty face twisted
in concern.

“You don’t need my permission. If you like him, tell him!” Avery pronounced, downing the rest of her champagne. Love had made
her more generous than ever.

“Thanks,” Jack said, and by the look in her green eyes, she meant it. “Now, you have to get back to
your
guy,” she added, half-sternly.

“I know, I should have told you, but—”

“No details!” Jack held up a manicured hand. “Just go for it.”

After Avery left, Jack sat for a couple more minutes on the swing, watching as the other revelers ate, drank, laughed, and
enjoyed the cool Caribbean breeze. It was a magical night, and Jack was just glad to be a part of it. Still, there was one
thing missing. She wanted to talk to Owen, maybe even tell him how she felt, if he didn’t know already. Thinking about it
made her stomach flip-flop. It was strange and scary and wasn’t easy. And Jack liked things to be easy.

In fact, she preferred things to be as easy as pulling out her black AmEx.

She stood up and headed over to the bar. She’d have one more glass of champagne and think through exactly what to say.

Beside her stood a super-skinny blond girl wearing what appeared to be a red latex dress that hit mid-thigh. Next to her was
a brunette wearing far too much gold jewelry. Jack stared at them, trying to figure out how she knew them. And then it hit
her: They were the girls she’d seen talking to Owen and Rhys the day she’d first arrived. Jack had actually been jealous of
them at the time. How long ago
that
seemed now.

Almost instantly Hugh, one of Owen’s lame swim team friends, sidled up to the girls.

Directed by skank sonar?

“My fair ladies.” Hugh leered at the two girls as he stroked his full blond beard lasciviously. “Might I say you look lovely?”

“It’s true, innit,” the blond girl said as she elbowed her friend, giggling. Jack rolled her eyes, glad these three soul mates
had found each other, when she felt someone come up beside her.

“I have an idea,” Owen whispered as his arm gently brushed hers. Jack’s heart thumped wildly just at the sight of his deep
blue eyes and adorable white-blond hair. Owen nodded at Hugh and the two girls. “What do you say we make this a pool party?”
he asked, a devilish grin on his face. “I’ll be in charge of Hugh— you’re in charge of them.” He raised an eyebrow at Jack.

Jack stared. One of the girls teetered just inches from the edge on her unstable, glittering heels. It was almost too easy.
She didn’t really know why they were doing this, but Jack wasn’t one to choose decorum over fun. Especially not when Owen
was the one offering.

Who would?

“Fine!” In one moment, she shoved the blond girl in, while Owen pushed Hugh. The two of them flopped messily into the water
with a huge splash. The brunette girl, not knowing what else to do, shrugged and jumped in after them.

“Everybody get in the pool!” she cried as soon as she touched down, her drink still in hand. In an instant, her red dress
was floating on the top of the water as she, Hugh, and the blond girl splashed each other in the shallow end.

“That was kind of dumb,” Jack admitted, even though secretly it was the most fun she’d had all night.

“Yeah, but at least now we can’t hear them.” Owen grinned.

Jack stared at Owen’s tanned, happy face, glad to see him smiling—especially at her. So did this mean he didn’t think she
was a scheming would-be cheater? “I broke up with J.P. I just wanted you to know,” she blurted. It wasn’t exactly how she’d
planned on telling him, but then, nothing this week had gone as she’d planned.

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