My adrenaline has cooled off along with the hot day and I'm now sitting on the roof exhausted from last night's hooligans and today's betrayals. I have an over-poured glass of Cabernet in my right hand and I sip it while looking off into the horizon.

The sun is slowly shrinking behind the vast canopy of oak trees and I watch our horses run laps off in the distance with Celia as their guide. I've been attempting to plan a wedding destruction plot all day but I've only come up with boring, poorly planned, amateur ideas. I had a notepad that I thought was going to be filled with brilliant, hell on earth ideas but my brain wasn't giving me much to work with.

I take another long swig of wine in hopes that the alcohol will give me some kind of inspiration. I hear a tap from behind me and I look over my right shoulder to see Ryan at his window. He raps his knuckles on the glass, looking to me cautiously and I nod for him to come out and join me. He slides his wide window up and effortlessly climbs onto the roof. He crouches as he walks over to me.

"Great view," Ryan says as he runs his eyes over the tree line and I nod in response. He glances to me but my eyes remain on the galloping horses. It's mortifying having barfed in front of the hotness sitting next to me and it's even more awkward trying not to bring it up. If I apologize, he might ask what for and I don't want to talk about Jackson or Whitney.

I take another sip of wine, swallowing my pride down with it and from the corner of my eye, I see Ryan pull something from his pocket. He looks to me and I look to see what he's holding- a small cigar.

"Do you mind?" He asks and I shake my head.

"Go for it," I tell him. "It's not pot is it?" I suddenly ask and he catches my stare. He raises it and replies, "Do you want it to be?" Surprisingly, a light laugh escapes me before I reply, "Kinda." I watch a hint of surprise cross his face but he shakes his head.

"I don't smoke, we can't really. Work doesn't allow that."

"That's probably good because my mother wouldn't allow that smell on her roof either." He pulls a box of matches from his denim shirt pocket but before I can ask, he says, "Gus gave me this and all I could find in your house were these matches." I watch him burn the tip of the thin cigar and he keeps it between his lips as he watches the horses. With anyone else, I would feel an awkward silence sprawled out between us but Ryan doesn't seem like a man of many words. The silence seems natural to him so I don't disturb it by bringing up any of my drama.

We watch as the sky turns from pink to navy and the crickets come out to play us a soft song. I'm nearing the end of my liquid muse and I'm disappointed to know it gave me no inspiration. Maybe I'll go to the library tomorrow and check out Wedding Crashing for Dummies.

I feel defeated and am about to turn to go back inside when Ryan asks, "So did you figure out a way to stop it?" I glance to him and he flicks what's left of his cigar to the side of him and stubs out the flickering red flame on a shingle.

"Stop what?" I ask him and he finally turns to face me, "The wedding." He points to my notepad with the massive Sharpie heading, "IDEAS ON HOW TO STOP THAT BITCH'S WEDDING!" I down the last few drops of my wine and shake my head.

"Nope. I have no idea how to do it without having my name written all over the mess. I have to be stealthy, which is so not my forte," I say before a wine hiccup interrupts me. "That and the last time I got an impulse for revenge, I ended up punching a pregnant lady in the face, which turns out, is frowned upon in this town." Ryan flicks his eyes over to me and asks, "Why did you punch a pregnant lady?"

"Well in my defense she did just ruin my wedding day and my life so..."

"Ah, the pregnant woman was Whitney Carmichael, whom I've now gathered is your ex-best friend and your ex-fiancé's current fiancée. I look to him and pop my "Yep" loudly. Now there is officially no one left in Hollis that is unaware of my drama.

"Are you still in love with him?" He bluntly asks me and I'm taken back for a moment. I think about it as I take another long swig before answering, "I don't think so. No, not anymore. How can I love someone that could hurt me like that you know? Why do you ask?"

"I'm just wondering what side of the fence you are on, if you are trying to stop the wedding in hopes of getting him back or if you are trying to ruin her for revenge." A spiteful laugh escapes me.

"Oh, I want those assholes to burn. He doesn't deserve happiness after he shattered my world into a thousand pieces. I had everything figured out and he ruined it all by not being able to keep it in his pants." I spit and the acidity in my voice paints Ryan a picture of how much I despise Jackson.

"Everything figured out? He was a piece of a grand plan or what?" He asks and I exhale loudly as I think of how to respond. I know Ryan is my brother's co-worker and from what I have gathered, they are friends. I don't know how much Ryan knows of our family though. I don't know what Austin choses to confide in him.

My gaze is to the sunset when I reply, "You might have noticed that Austin has it a bit easier than I do when it comes to pleasing my mother." He nods so I continue, "She thinks I am meant to marry rich and be a part of the whole high society here in Hollis..." I stop again, wondering if he actually cares about all this but he glances to me again to continue so I sigh before adding, "See the Sweeneys have been here since before the civil war and they help influence and run this town. So, when Austin skipped his duties of marrying a prominent Hollis girl, my mother panicked because she has always seen me as hopeless. So now... it's up to me to keep our family relevant by marrying someone that understands our place in the hierarchy."

"And Jackson filled that role?" He asks and I nod, "Jackson was perfect because he is also from a big to-do family, and our mothers had been friends for years. And even though I was marrying who my mother wanted, Jackson actually hated those stuffy high society events as much as I did so I was free to be myself...well to a point. I had to live up to his mother's standards but I was willing to do that bit for Jackson."

"And Whitney was your best friend who ruined this whole grand plan then," Ryan adds and I nod. I can't believe I just babbled all that to Ryan, but I feel like this is the first time I have said any of this out loud. Everyone here just understands how us rich folk work so telling it to an outsider makes it all sound silly.

We are quiet again for a few moments and then he asks, "What kind of revenge are you thinking?"

I glance to him and then reply, "I think the only thing I'm not willing to do is murder." He cracks the smallest of smiles before going quiet again as he also looks toward the tree line. He pulls his legs toward his chest, so he can rest his arms on his knees and then says, "Okay, well maybe you don't have to ruin the actual wedding. Maybe go for the relationship. Sounds like they don't have a strong foundation. So, stop the wedding from starting you know?" I look to him but I'm still not struck with a sudden epiphany on how to do that, but he said it like it's obvious.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure how to do that either. All the dirt I had on either of them they already know. I used to talk to her about him and him about her. I have nothing."

Ryan's eyes find mine and asks, "What about the family? There are always skeletons in rich people's closets."

"Not the Hemmings. They are so perfect it would make you gag," I tell him but he shrugs his shoulder as he says, "Maybe it's worth digging into her family then." I'm not able to say anything back as Ryan suddenly pushes himself up and clambers his way back to the window. He suddenly turns to me like he wants to say something else but decides against it. He slips back in through his window and I watch the blinds fall against the glass, which is unfortunate because I wouldn't have minded watching him get ready for bed.

I look back out towards the navy sky and start to think about the words he left me with. He's the first person that has asked me if I was still in love with Jackson and I have to admit, I did have to think about it. We had built a whole life together; he was an integral part of my world. There wasn't an aspect of my future that didn't involve Jackson Hemming. As soon as we met, we were basically inseparable and because Whitney was my best friend, we were all always together. Maybe that was the problem, we were all a little too close.

Maybe Ryan has finally pointed me in the right direction, maybe her family does have something hidden I can use against her. The Hemmings are cautious people, so if I discover something juicy enough that the Hemmings won't be able to look past, they might put a stop to the wedding themselves. I think back to Whitney and my brain goes all the way back to elementary school. My parents were acquaintances with her parents before that even. I decide to try and ask the one person that knows the Carmichaels almost as well as I do.

I clutch onto my wine glass as I climb back in through my window, half as graceful as Ryan seemed to do it, and I strut down the hallway to my mother's room. I put my ear up to the closed door but I don't hear any noise coming from the other side. I wonder if she's already settled down for bed but I decide to knock anyway. I linger outside the door for a few moments before knocking again. I don't get an answer so I move away from her door and head back downstairs.

I find Celia by the sink in the kitchen and she reaches for my empty glass. I hand it to her and pull myself to sit on the counter next to her.

"Celia, do you know the Carmichaels?" I ask her and she nods while scrubbing my glass in the sink.

"Course I know the Carmichaels. I know what the little backstabber did to ya," Celia snaps. And of course Celia does, she's like family. She knows all that goes on in this house.

"I know you know Whitney, I was just wondering if you knew her family. Like her parents, Magnolia and George." Celia grabs a clean towel and gingerly dries the glass as she says, "I can say I know of 'em. Ya know, seen 'em round town and such. You'd probably know 'em better than I would. I have never been to their house or nothin'." I nodded and figured as much. My mother was usually the one to drop me off and pick me up on the random times I'd hang out over there.

Whitney's parents weren't really around whenever I was over there either and she has no siblings. When they were around, it was for formal dinners with not much conversation floating around the table.

I thank Celia for washing my dish and tell her good night as I hop down off the counter. I slowly walk back up to my room, contemplating who I can get to air the Carmichael's dirty laundry out. I have to be careful with who I ask, as I don't want any whisperings getting back to Whitney. The gossip queens in this town would gladly soak up any juicy information and me trying to find dirt on Whitney's family would make headlines. Everyone expects me to be out for blood but I'm on thin ice after my last impulsive move. Although in my defense, I hadn't thought about how it would look if I punched a pregnant woman in the face, I was thinking of punching my backstabbing best friend. I forgot they were one in the same.

I plop down onto my plush bed and my headboard makes a loud metallic squeaking sound as it wiggles against the wall. I think to Ryan hearing all of my movements and hope he wasn't sleeping. I glance up to my stark white ceiling as I go through my mental filing cabinets of what I know of the Carmichaels. I try and dig deep, hoping not to miss anything but unfortunately, I'm coming up empty.

Suddenly, I realize I may not know of a gossip queen I can trust, but I do know of one gossip king. I snatch my phone from the nightstand and text Gus that I'm coming over to his place for breakfast tomorrow and to have my favorite menu items prepared by nine.