“Concierge to the Mother of the Groom? What the hell is he talking about?” I heard Jolene ask as I stepped inside the cool, dim house.

Every window on the bottom floor was thrown open to catch the breeze off of the Ashley River. The air was cool and balmy, yet still a little sticky with humidity, in a way that felt pleasantly tropical and was distinctly Charleston. I stood in the hallway and enjoyed it for a moment. This was what came to mind when I thought of this city. That and this jungle house packed with house plants and Darcy with a spray bottle in hand, talking to them like they were people as she watered them.

Was that what Jolene meant when he said Darcy tended toward the dramatic?

Because when I looked back on it now, I wondered if all of that was just to mask how lonely she felt.

I moved through the dark, quiet house, passing her prized monstera deliciosa in the foyer, turned left at the stairway, and found Darcy curled into the fetal position on her chaise in her office.

“Darcy,” I whispered.

She sat up abruptly and pushed her hair out of her face. “Is everyone finished eating? Let me get in the kitchen. Minnie is going to need help getting everything cleaned up.”

“Relax, honey,” I said, applying gentle pressure to her shoulder until she rested her back against the chaise. I sat at the end of the chaise near her feet. “The guests are fine. Everyone is still eating and drinking. I just came to check on the hostess.”

“Oh…that’s right. Mother of the Groom Concierge,” she said, then laughed humorlessly. “I’m sorry if I made a scene. It’s been a long while since I’ve been in the same space with Dylan…and Jojo,” she explained. “I just needed a minute.”

“That’s totally understandable, and you didn’t make a scene,” I said, tracing my fingers down the length of her bare arm. Darcy sighed and grabbed my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. “Did I forget that Shannon was such a narcissistic asshole, or is that one of those things that become more obvious with distance and age? I can’t imagine a man of substance dealing with the likes of Jolene.”

She gave me a genuine laugh then. “To be honest, he was an asshole, but only with everyone else. He was more caring and loving with me and Jared. Well… he was until he wasn’t.”

I shook my head. “The way she says he talked about me…I can’t believe I ever found him interesting and inspiring. Now he just sounds like all the rich white men I network with — bloviating endlessly about topics that no one but them care about.”

“Unfortunately, that’s exactly who he was.” She sighed and stretched her long legs.