I sigh and give her a hug. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
“I tried but I’m a numbers person. You’re the word weaver.”
“I know,” I say as we step back. “I love you, my numbers person.”
“Love you more, word weaver.”
We both look over and find Ryan and Jason still locked in an animated conversation.
“What do you think those two are talking about?”
“No idea.” I take in Ryan’s stoic face as he continues to listen to Jason before I turn my attention back to Cristina. “So, is there anything else I can do for tomorrow? Anything I can help you with?”
“Not really,” she says. “Just be at my apartment no later than 9:00 a.m. The hair and makeup people will be there and we’ll all take turns. I’ll have bagels and fruit and mimosas so don’t worry about having breakfast. Overall, I anticipate zero stress.”
“Zero stress, that’s what I like to hear. Do you mean it?”
“Absolutely not. One million percent, I’m going to be manic.”
Out of nowhere, Jason and Ryan appear back at our sides.
“Hey, hi everyone.” Jason is forcing a smile as he grabs Cristina’s hand. “Babe, we should go sit, I think. The food is getting cold.”
“What are you talking about? The food isn’t even out yet.” She looks around at the very foodless tables with not a waiter in sight, save for the ones serving champagne.
“I know it’s not out yet, but it’s coming.”
“What is the matter with you?” Cristina asks.
“I just need to sit down, honey. My feet hurt and I have to save my strength for tomorrow. Plus, I feel gassy.”
Everyone takes a step back.
“Okay, that was a bit of an overshare, babe. Let’s not forget that this is our rehearsal dinner.”
“I know it’s our rehearsal dinner but I’m feeling definite movement in my body, so I suggest we sit down before I accidentally fumigate this entire room.”
“Okay, okay,” Cristina mutters, “so thrilled to be marrying this pillar of class tomorrow.” She looks over apologetically at Ryan and me. “I guess we’re going to sit down. We’ll catch up again later.”
Cristina and Jason walk off to the head table and soon everyone is circling around, looking for their place cards. Shock of the century, Cristina seated me next to Ryan.
“What were you and Jason talking about?” I ask him as we sit down.
Ryan’s expression shifts from pensive to blank. He flattens his tie against his shirt before tucking his chair in closer to the table. “Just about how much I suck, basically.”
“What? Why would he say that?”
“It’s not his fault. I told him I would do something and I didn’t.” He keeps fiddling with his tie and it makes me want to grab his hand and pin it down.
“Was it groomsman stuff? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a pro bono wedding planner extraordinaire. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it.”
“It’s not groomsman stuff.” I’m ready to press him further when he reaches around the back of my chair and drags it forward until our seats bump together. “How about we have a good time tonight and I’ll explain everything when we get home?”
His close proximity makes me a little loopy but not enough for me to ignore the slight uneasy feeling that’s growing in my stomach.
“Is it—” I don’t get chance to finish as a trim, towering man unceremoniously drops into the empty seat beside Ryan. His brown hair is messy in an intentional way and the suit he’s wearing seems tailor-made. The watch on his wrist looks more expensive than my first two cars.
“Remind me never to be a groomsman again,” he says in an inconvenienced tone. “I almost forgot all about this thing.”
“I figured.”
“What’s there to rehearse anyways?”
“I said the same thing.”
Watching him and Ryan talk, I recognize the man as his friend from the pre-wedding party. I think his name was—
“Bonjour, mademoiselle, my name is Beau.” He reaches out and takes my hand in a steady grip. I can tell he likes to moisturize.
“Bonjour,” I say with a hesitant smile, “I’m Kara.”
“You look very beautiful tonight, Kara. That shade of blue you’re wearing is particularly alluring with your deep brown eyes.”
“Do not hit on her,” Ryan says. “She’s self-sufficient and doesn’t have any incapacitating self-esteem issues so you wouldn’t like her at all.”
“That’s a shame. Your skin tone and my height would have made for exceptionally superior offspring.”
“I said don’t hit on her.”
“I’m not hitting on her, I’m stating genetic facts. This guy always has such a bad attitude.”
“I haven’t noticed,” I say jokingly.
“How I’ve been able to stay best friends with him for so long is beyond me. I just have too big a heart.”
“How am I the one with a bad attitude?” Ryan asks. “You’re the one who got us thrown out of our hotel room.”
“Tell me you’re not still whining about this. God strike me down for forgetting to serenade your dog with Celine Dion’s greatest hits while simultaneously petting him to sleep on the second night of the full moon.”
“All you had to do was play the playlist.”
“If I hear you say ‘play the playlist’ one more time, I’m going to buy the rights to every one of those songs and destroy their original recordings in a fire.”
“That would make zero difference whatsoever. There’s billions of copies of them around the world.”
“And I will make it my life’s work to delete them all.”
“You guys are fun,” I say with a grin.
Beau and Ryan’s relationship is a bit surprising. Beau comes off as very metro—well groomed, well dressed, ready to mingle and probably drives a sleek little sports car. Ryan is happiest in jeans, wants to be home with his dog and has driven nothing but a pickup truck since he was sixteen.
“How long have you been friends?” I ask.
“Since kindergarten,” Beau answers. “Ryan came in the first day of school wearing camo shorts and cowboy boots and kicked everyone in the shins, including the teacher.”
“I did not kick the teacher,”
