Page 6 of You'll Be the Death of Me

“I will, and by my count that means I have seven more days to be an ass.”

She rolled her eyes as they reached the point where they slowed to walk and cool down. “I’d rather you spend those seven days learning to get along with him.”

Jason let out a big breath. He looked at her with a rare sincerity in his eyes as they walked. A fleeting moment void of snark. “Since I’m allowed to be an ass for seven more days, I’m going to say this to you before the window closes: Are you just marrying him because your parents want you to?”

Dell stopped walking as if she’d been punched. “What?”

Jason gave her a flat stare. “Dell, come on. I know you. Iknowyou have this bizarre perfect-daughter complex, and I know you’re under a lot of pressure from your family, like, all the time. You and Tommy are the perfect golden couple on paper, but I don’t think you have real feelings for him. At least notmarry himfeelings.”

Dell couldn’t do anything other than stare at her best friend because, in true Jason fashion, he’d spoken all the words she was too afraid to say out loud.

“Also,” he went on, “Tommy is a tool bag who doesn’t deserve you.”

She shot him a glare.

He held up his hands in defense. “Still allowed to be an ass. Seven days, remember?”

“Yeah, tohim. Not tome. Where is this even coming from?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe from the way you kill yourself tryingto impress your parents in every other aspect of your life, how you never light up around Tommy, and the look of guilt all over your face right now, like the time I caught you stealing my La Mer night cream.”

Dell’s cheeks flamed in shame.Damn him for seeing through her.She was not shocked her best friend was being so blunt, but she was surprised he’d waited until that moment to say something. Her wedding was in a week. Not exactly high time to call the whole thing off, especially since half the city was going to attend.

Jason gripped her hands in his and gave her the most serious look she’d ever seen on his face. “Dell, I love you, and I just want to see you happy.”

His words hit her with the discomfort of an ill-fitting shoe. One that might rub blisters. She and Tommy hadn’t known each other that long, but he fit the box she needed to check: marry someone of prominence. She had a lot to live up to in her family, and the mayor’s son was the perfect candidate. Sure, when she was with him maybe she didn’t feel explosions of rainbows and butterflies, or whatever true love was supposed to feel like. But she feltenough. Besides, they were perfect on paper: him, a golden son and political heir, and her, technically an heiress to a real estate empire. They would make a couple worthy of each family’s dynasty.

She pulled her hands out of Jason’s. “I am happy, Jay. You don’t have to worry. Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, it’s not. But are you really happy though?” he asked, and fell into stride beside her as she resumed walking. “Tommy is the first guy you met when we moved back to the Bay. And he put a ring on it and moved in within a year. Don’t you want to shop around a little?”

“Jason!” she scolded with a laugh. She held up her left hand and sent her ring sparkling. “These things don’t usually come with a return policy.”

“Oh, sure they do. You could slip it off right now and throw it into the bay. Then we’ll change your name and board a flight to Aruba. Tommy seems like the type to hunt you down if you disappeared. He’s got aFatal Attractionglint in his eye I’ve never liked.”

“Oh myGod, stop it!”

He skipped around to face her and walked backward. “But I’m serious, Dell. What about Oscar at work?”

She flinched in surprise. “My sous-chef?”

“Yeah. He’s single. And hot.”

She rolled her eyes and tried to step around him. “First off,I’mnotsingle, and I’m pretty sure he’s got something going on with Sasha. And besides, dating a coworker is a recipe for disaster, which, I guess I should keep an eye on him and Sasha...” She thoughtfully trailed off and had a vision of her sous-chef and head pastry chef stepping out of the freezer looking flushed rather than chilled.

“Okay, then what about someone like that guy on the slopes last year?” Jason said. “The one who crashed into you when we were skiing.”

“Who?” she asked, having only a vague memory of that trip to Tahoe, which involved more time sipping mimosas in their Airbnb and drunkenly sledding down the driveway than time on the actual mountain.

“Oh, come on. The one who plowed into you, and your skis got all tangled up like a scene out of a rom-com, and you had that huge bruise shaped like Italy on your thigh for a week.”

Dell frowned at the memory. There had been a tall, uncoordinated man who’d seemingly forgotten how to stop on skis and taken her out in the process of trying to relearn. “That was nothing. I couldn’t even pick that guy out of a lineup.”

“Pfft.Icould. He was hot too.”

“Jason, this is pointless,” she snapped. She stopped walking again and stomped her foot. “Despite your best efforts, you are not talking me out of marrying Tommy a week before our wedding, especially not in exchange for a respected coworker who is, yes, admittedly very good-looking, or for some stranger who french-fried when he should have pizzaed.”

He grumbled and cast his eyes skyward right as a familiar local hollered from a nearby bench.