Page 86 of How to Ruin a Wedding

“Right, right,” I say, rising. “Let’s get moving, then.”

Valerie grabs my arm before I go. “And remember—this stays between us.”

“I gave you my pinkie,” I say, like that means anything.

24.

Valerie drops me off in front of Anders’s home. Shortly after she drives off, Taina pulls up in her rental car.

“Going to explain what’s going on?” Taina says when I throw myself into the passenger side.

“Yeah, later,” I say, “but now, I need you to dress me up for a party.”

Easily distracted, Taina smiles. “Oh, amazing, you’ll look so good in this black slip-on I just got.”

When we get back to the rental, I hurriedly shower and straighten my hair. When I’m on my last strand, my phone lights up with a call from Anders.

“Finally,” I say into the speaker, “where have you been? Why haven’t you answered any of my calls?”

The line is quiet, then, “I was busy.”

Which is at least a more polite response thanOh, you can ignore all my calls and messages, but when I do it, it’s a problem?

“I almost blew it today,” I say. “Valerie brought up your party, and I had no idea.”

“I tried calling you before,” he points out. “I wasn’t sure what else to do. I was going to say you were sick if anyone asked.”

“I already played that card,” I say, slapping a hand over my face. I just admitted that playing sick when he needed me for his family dinner was a lie. Sloppy. “Anyway, missing this is too obvious. I’m getting ready now.”

“Okay.”

I hate how clipped his voice is, and the lack of words he uses instead of speaking to me with drawn-out sentences. And I hate that I hate it.

“I’ll be ready in an hour. I’ll drop the address where I’m staying. Pick me up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I snap, hanging up, ridiculously annoyed, even though I have zero right to be. I’m just a little frazzled. I was taken off guard. And the pressure of the wedding coming up is getting to me.

And it’s Anders’s birthday today.

Taina knocks on the door. “Hurry up,” she calls out. “I’m dying of boredom here.”

It’s been silent during the ride, from the moment Anders opened the passenger door and let me in. He only nodded to greet me, and he didn’t even turn the music on. The tension is heavy and thick; the air is hard to breathe. So, I push the window down, despite the thick humidity from the night air, which is sure to frizz up my hair.

Still, frizzy hair or not, my skin looks flawless and dewy thanks to Taina, and my spaghetti-strapped black dress pairs well with Anders’s black trousers and white button-up. We look good together.

He looks good alone. His sleeves aren’t at their usual rolled-up positions, but the veins on his hands protrude under his skin as he grips the steering wheel, his watch reflecting the lights of oncoming cars every so often. Even with the window open, his aftershave reaches me, and the scent of it brings me this blend of comfort and desire so suddenly I have to cross my legs and look away.

When we get to the vineyard, Anders parks at the end of the full lot. After this, I’m going to Taina’s, so I grab the tiny bag sitting by my feet and hand it over.

He looks at it like it’s holding a mousetrap.

“For you.” At that, his brows go up, and he stills, like he’s never been given a gift in his life. “It’s not much. It’s kind of cheesy.”

Anders reaches into it, pulls out the miniature golden frame with a replica of his favorite painting in it. “What is this?”

“I remember at the gallery, Valerie said it was your favorite painting. The artist was at the market when I went with Bethany and Olive, with tiny prints of his other works. I got it then and forgot to give it to you.”