What, besides the carefully crafted life raft keeping me afloat? “Dean, I love you, and I know your intentions are good, but please leave it alone.” I straightened his bow tie, then stretched and kissed his cheek. “Best wishes to you and Dara. Now, get back to your guests.”
He engulfed me in tight hug. “You are one of kind, sweetheart. I’ve missed you. We all have. Promise you’ll visit us in Halifax?”
I wiggled free and steered him toward the door. “I’ll come and stay for a few days once you two settle into married life. Now, don’t you have a cake to cut or something?”
“See you out there.” He adjusted his tuxedo as he headed into the reception hall.
Wherever I turned tonight, the past smacked me head on, threatening to plunge me into an emotional meltdown. At one time I’d thought the same as Dean, that Jake and I would be the couple who slogged through every situation and emerged on the other side unscathed. But then, as it always does, life flattened us, setting us straight.
We hadn’t deserved that much happiness when relationships crumbled around us, leaving us untouched and bobbing along in blissful oblivion. Yet, as we crept up on four years of dating, we’d seemed no closer to a solid commitment than we had six months in, still glossing over our issues and avoiding the toughest conversations.
Anyway, Jake wasn’t interested in the least, and in two days, I’d return to the daily slog on my own side of the country. Further involvement was inadvisable, this I knew for certain.
I’d just accepted my cocktail from the bartender when an arm wrapped around my waist.
“Why aren’t you out there dancing?” Vivienne asked.
An arm wrapped around my waist. “Why aren’t you out there dancing?” Vivienne asked.
“Why aren’t you?”
“I plan to be soon.” A sly smile touched her lips. “How was dinner?”
“Not you too.”
“What? Ignore that smokin’ hot kiss? That in-your-face chemistry with Jakey boy? Dreamer. Anyway, you two were the couple everyone wanted to be in university. Your breakup was a shocker.”
“Whatever. It’s nothing. Long over. Why don’t you fill me in on your life since everyone already seems to know everything about mine? Anyone special?”
“My guy couldn’t come this weekend.” Vivienne wrinkled her nose. “Work obligations. He might be a keeper, though.”
“Care to dance?” The deep voice and touch on my arm pulled my attention from my friend.
I smiled at the dark-haired cutie, who was certainly appealing with his blue eyes and dimples. Maybe he’d keep me from dwelling on Dara’s words and my confusion about Jake.
“Go and have some fun. We’ll talk later.” Vivienne fluttered her fingers, leaving me no choice but to accompany the guy.
Not that it was so bad to socialize and enjoy, and the man turned out to be a great dancer. After several songs, he motioned to the bar. “Drink?”
I nodded. Time to honour my promise to Beth and have some fun. Not that I hadn’t already gathered a ton of baggage to unpack after I dragged myself back to Vancouver, but I knew the messy situation with Jake wouldn’t meet her uninhibited shenanigan requirements. However, a dalliance with my dance partner just might.
Christophe wasn’t just a pretty boy. As we chatted about his escapades as a photojournalist, he became more and more interesting. The man was intelligent, well-travelled, and articulate. Just the kind of guy I’d been looking for now that the sharp edge of my divorce had faded.
“How do you know Dean and Dara?” I asked at one point.
“I’m a distant relative of Dean’s. Some sort of obligation on their part to fill out the guest list, I guess. You?”
“Dara and I have been friends for years. We met at Dalhousie University.”
To that he only nodded and smiled, turning the conversation to my life and work, focussing on the now rather than the past.
Finally, the expected and inevitable loaded question came.
“So, Amara, I have to ask—what’s the deal with you and Jake? That kiss at dinner made me think you two are still a couple, but he’s there”—he pointed at Jake who was chatting with the blonde woman again—“and you’re here. So … are you two a thing?”
“No, no, nothing like that. We dated years ago, so someone thought the kissing would be funny.” Heat rose in my cheeks, surely turning them to beacons of flaming tell-tale red. “You know, seat us at the same table, put our names in the jar. We’re long over.”
Christophe swirled his whiskey, studying me intently before he nodded. “So that’s it? You’re single? Available?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Fair enough. Another?” He pointed at my glass, and at my nod, signalled the bartender. “Victoria and North Vancouver are only a short flight apart. Would you be interested in getting together sometime?”
“That would be nice.”
“Do you mind if I excuse myself for a couple minutes? I’ll be right back.” He winked and headed toward the bathrooms.
Moments later, Jake looked my way, said something to the woman, and headed over.
“Amara.” He flagged down the bartender and ordered a quartet of tequila shots. “Looks like you’re having fun,” he said, offering one tiny glass to me.
“It’s a wedding. Isn’t it for celebration and enjoyment?”
Jake’s laugh—a sharp, short sound—combined with narrowed eyes. “I suppose.”
“Besides, you’ve found someone to occupy your time.” I eyed the other woman, who was now talking to Dean and Dara.
“Who? Her?” He jutted his chin toward the trio. “That’s Dean’s boss. His married boss.”
Oh. Oops. “Luci’s done well for herself.”
“How? By catching plenty of men to dance with?”
“Stop acting like the overprotective brother. I meant that you must be proud she graduated from medical school.”
His face lit up. “I couldn’t have raised Luci without Tía. She deserves the majority of the credit, not me.”
“Tía’s fantastic, no question, but don’t discount how much you did.” I lifted my glass. “To the big brother who went to
