Page 91 of Match Me if You Can

Nope.

Evelyn is sweet and gentle and Hugo is calm and centered but with a shrewd demeanor, as though he’s soaking in every single interaction between me and my family.

And between my family themselves.

And between Violet and me.

Judging.

Yup. I definitely can feel that he’s judging.

The question is what will happen if—or likely, when—my family and I come up lacking.

The Laurents are quiet, even-keeled, and definitely not yelling in front of people they just met.

The good ol’ Ambroses on the other hand?

Oakes and Jenny are gone, having left shortly after the rehearsal dinner—and thank God the Laurents went to their hotel room to “freshen up” so they missed that nightmare of arguing, yelling, Jenny cowering as she looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole, and finally, after the wedding planner threatened to throw everyone out, practicing the actual ceremony. So, the bride and groom are off and enjoying their last night of singledom with their bridesmaids and groomsman, respectively.

Noble’s here, doing all he can to earn his Bugatti.

Beck and Lex are also here, because they have nowhere else to be—or nowhere they can be with the wedding tomorrow and my dad unwilling to share his SUV. Noble offered to drive them somewhere, but wouldn’t let either of them borrow his rental car.

Wise of Noble.

Beck has too many speeding tickets on his record for Noble to relinquish the keys, and Lex is too impulsive to be trusted, especially after he was downing drinks at the rehearsal dinner.

Plus, those fuckers can rent their own cars if they want the freedom to come and go.

And pay for them if—or maybe when—they get into an accident.

Obviously, my parents are here, and arguing about whether or not my dad can have another beer, considering he had five at dinner.

My mom thinks he should be done. My dad…well, my dad obviously disagrees.

“Steve,” my mom snaps back, “language!”

Why he doesn’t just go and get his own fucking beer, I have no clue.

Except, that he’s my dad, and this shit is always about control.

About breaking people down.

About exerting his power.

No surprise, he’d do it in front of Hugo and Evelyn, who took a taxi to the house of horrors in order to meet everyone. Vi and I will drive them back to the hotel later.

If they don’t run screaming out the front door first.

“Guys,” I begin, my shoulders tight, a throb forming in my temple.

“Just shut up and get me a beer, woman,” my dad orders.

“I will not. You’ve had enough and are guests are here,” she snaps. “I want to talk to them.”

“About what? The air in your head⁠—”

“Dad,” I say. “Enough.”