“So, somethingiswrong.” I stepped in front of her. “Talk to me.”
She adjusted her purse on her arm and lifted the handle of her suitcase.
“We have dinner at seven with Dean and Maria. We can talk later.”
“No, we’ll talk before. The restaurant is in the hotel. We can meet at the bar over there at six.”
I motioned to the swanky bar next to the dinging slot machines.
A smile tugged at her lips as she narrowed her eyes at me. “All this worry is going to give you wrinkles.” She tapped her finger between my brows.
“So then you can set me straight and tell me there’s nothing to worry about.”
Her face fell, making my gut twist even more.
“There they are!”
I’d know Dean’s gruff Bronx accent anywhere—still just as thick as the first day I met him in economics class during our freshman year of college at Fordham University.
I was originally from Connecticut with no discernible accent, but I had picked up a little bit of one from the cluster of New York natives I was with all the time for four years. My father cracked up one Christmas vacation when I’d told him I was sick of someone “breaking my balls.”
I’d been living in Charlotte since graduation, and while I hadn’t acquired a Southern twang, I caught myself saying “y’all” sometimes, and I always got shit for slipping whenever we all were together.
“Here we are.” I held out my arms as I came up to Dean. I laughed when he caught me in a bear hug, slapping my back and peering up at me with a wide, happy grin. For a guy who swore he’d never get married, he was bouncing with excitement as he backed away.
“Congratulations. Finally,” I joked, heaving out an exaggerated sigh as I squeezed his arm.
“Finally seems to be our wedding theme.” He laughed as his dark eyes studied me. “I could say finally to you too. It’s been months since we’ve seen you now that you’re a big shot.”
“Right.” I snickered. “A tired big shot.”
“Hey, Jules,” Dean said as he kissed Julie’s cheek. “We’re so happy you made it.”
Dean and Maria hadn’t been dating or even friendly back when we were in school, always snapping at each other and falling into long, drawn-out arguments.
When he told me after graduation he hoped he’d never see her again, I knew he was full of shit. Three years later, they started dating and had been together ever since. We all figured they had a good Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn thing going on until they shocked us with a wedding invite to Vegas.
“Thanks for making the time for this.”
“I’d never miss it.” I slapped his arm. “And I think a Vegas wedding suits the both of you.”
“That’s what we think.” He lifted a shoulder. “A big wedding with a bridal party seemed dumb after being together for so long. The original plan was just to come here and do it ourselves, but a small ceremony with the people who matter most to us was a good compromise. It was nice not having to worry about my mother’s cousin’s daughter’s five kids from Ohio or whoever else we’d have to invite to a big wedding, even if my mother keeps insisting they ‘owe her.’” He held up his fingers in air quotes. “This weekend is for us and the ones closest to us.”
He beamed at me, his eyes dancing and his grin so wide I couldn’t help but smile back.
“I think it’s great. I’m glad to be here.”
“I appreciate you making the trip. I know what a busy fucker you are down there.”
“Down there?” I snickered. “Maria finally making an honest man out of you is reason enough to drop everything.”
“For real,” Julie said. “I knew back in college you’d end up together when you pretended you hated each other.”
“So did he.” I lifted a brow when Dean glared back at us, but he didn’t offer a reply of denial.
“Go get settled. Dinner is at seven tonight, and it’s just us so we can all catch up. My parents are coming in later, and Maria’s family is arriving today. But we can entertain them at the wedding tomorrow.”
“I still can’t get over a real wedding in Vegas.” Julie chuckled. “I didn’t think they had those.”
