Fly With Me | ✓

27

Everleigh never should have agreed to be her sister's maid of honour. Because Florence showed up at the crack of ass—also known as eleven o'clock, but Everleigh was jetlagged—wearing a bright smile and requesting Everleigh join her for a food tasting for the wedding. And the only reason Everleigh actually got out of bed?

"Hiya," Florence said, "Can I please get a large iced espresso with two extra shots? And can you make them blonde?"

"Flo, I hate coffee—"

Florence slapped her hand to Everleigh's mouth. Everleigh fought the urge to lick her palm like she would've when they were kids.

"For sure, large iced shaken espresso with six blonde shots. Anything else?"

Florence shook her head. "That's everything, thank you."

The barista read Florence her total and instructed her to pull forward to the window. Everleigh rolled her eyes but stayed quiet.

Florence even paid for Everleigh's espresso and handed it to her wordlessly—which was her favourite version of her sister. Wrinkling her nose at the drink, Everleigh sipped at the espresso as Florence drove.

"Where are we even going?" Everleigh asked.

"Food tasting. I told you that."

"Where are we going?" Everleigh repeated. "Not what are we doing?"

"Drink your espresso, please," Florence said. "I don't want you talking to the caterer like that."

"I only talk to people I know like this."

"Bet you Maverick would say something different about that." Florence, although she stared at the road in front of her,

Everleigh's jaw dropped. "Did Roman—"

Florence laughed. "Roman didn't snitch, but your expression did."

"You're such a shit."

"I'm happy for you."

"Be quiet." Everleigh took a long sip from her drink and tried not to wince at the bitterness of the espresso. "I'm drinking my coffee."

"I thought you didn't like espresso."

"I don't." Everleigh took another long sip and crossed her arms. "I would've been fine with an English breakfast. Probably the same caffeine level."

Florence sighed. "We're going to the caterers. It's just a little hole in the wall ma and pa shop that serves Indian food they loved as kids that'll serve us a few tastings of happy hour snacks, appetizers, mains, and dessert."

"Sounds like shit."

"Can you please try to be tolerable?" Florence asked. "For once in your life?"

"I was happy in Tokyo."

Florence sighed again. "Are you actually upset I'm bringing you or are you honestly this jetlagged?"

"Both," Everleigh said. "I hate weddings and jetlag makes them even less tolerable."

"Do you want me to take you back to your flat?" Florence asked. "I can just do this alone if you're going to be grumpy the entire time."

Everleigh looked at Florence. Really looked. At the slightly more creased crow's feet around her eyes, the more indented and darker eye bags. How Florence had a few more streaks of grey in her hair than Everleigh had ever remembered; silver dancing on a bed of chestnut brown. Florence looked tired and Everleigh was being more exhausting than her newborn.