I bite the side of my lip and try to pretend like their loving interaction doesn't feel like tiny spikes inside my chest cavity. I've never had that. Ever. Nobody has ever looked at me with such longing, an equal mixture ofI love every part of youcombined withI will rip off your clothes right here and right now.
I want that someday. The problem is, I don't know if that's in the cards for me. It's entirely possible I will never have that.
"Hey, beautiful people," a male voice says from behind.
Duke swoops around my seat, dragging a chair of his own.
Vivi's shoulders slump as she attempts to retreat further back into her chair. "Is it too much to ask to be struck by lightning?" she grumps.
Duke drops quickly into his chair, not looking her way when he says, "There isn't a cloud in the sky, but keep wishing."
Vivi sends him a middle finger he doesn't see. "Heads up," he says, the words forceful and under his breath. "Overzealous mayoress incoming."
On cue, Liane Rooney's cloying voice filters fromtwo tents over. I can't make out what she's saying, only that inauthentic tone.
Vivi cuts a razor sharp glare at Duke. "If you brought her over here with you I will tear off your arm and beat you with it."
Mallory sits taller, craning her neck. "I met her a couple days ago when I got my hair cut."
"Did you get a cavity?" Vivi asks.
Mallory's dark eyebrows draw together. "No. Why?"
I answer for Vivi. "My sister, who apparently woke up on the wrong side of every bed in the world today, is saying that the woman is so sweet she might give you a cavity."
"Nauseatingly sugary. Fake." Vivi doubles down on her assessment. She dips her chin Liane's direction, saying, "She specialty orders those heels she wears. Can't trust a bitch that bougie."
A burst of raucous laughter comes from Penn, but Daisy frowns. "Vivi, you are being a pill right now. Liane Rooney is justnice. She always has been."
Vivi shoots Daisy a withering look. "Daisy, you of all people should know it's impossible to be thatnice"—air quotes—"all the time. You yourself got so caught up in being this town's sweetheart you almost married someone you didn't love."
Mallory jerks forward, eyes bright and hands gripping the arms of her chair. "Wait, what?" Her curiosity turns to confusion as she glances at Penn. "Who?"
Penn, that fucker, smirks. He doesn't usually rub it in Duke's face that he's the one who ended up with Daisyafter all, but he's not above sprinkling a little salt in the wound either.
Not that there's much of a wound where it concerns Duke. He loved Daisy as a friend, and still does, but he wasn't in love with her.
"Duke The Twat," Penn says, at the same time I say, "Paper Towel Duke."
Duke, bless his heart, simply points back at himself while saying, "Yours truly." He looks nonplussed at the less-than-kind nicknames Penn made for him, but then he pretends to pull guns from holsters on his hips, transitioning to middle fingers mid-air.
Vivi gasps dramatically, miming a pearl clutch. "Not the extra-spicy finger guns."
Duke ignores her and blows on the ends of his fingers, miming holstering them.
Mallory's wide brown eyes are on me as she tries to understand. I lean over the fabric arm of my chair, and Mallory meets me. Her nearness sets off alarm bells in my head, and she has me wishing I could inhale, loud and long, taking in her sweet scent.
Getting control of myself, I say, "There's too much to explain, so I'll sum it up. Duke and Daisy were engaged but they weren't in love, and then Penn came back to town after being gone for a long time. The rest is sort of history, I guess, except that it's worth mentioning Penn showed up to crash their wedding."
Mallory's mouth forms a wideO. She blinks several times, long dark lashes sweeping the delicate skin beneath her eyes. "It's like a soap opera."
Penn is suddenly there, in our conversation. "You should know," he starts, looking at me conspiratorially, "that it was Hugo's idea for me to break up the wedding. He told me to, and I quote, "Storm the castle."" Penn claps me on the shoulder. Hard. "A real romantic, this one."
I open my mouth, ready to tell Penn that somebody had to stop him from being an angsty whiner about the whole thing, when a shrill voice rings out from two feet away.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman." Liane Rooney offers the greeting with pomp, as if we are her benevolent subjects.
"Good afternoon, Mayoress Rooney," we all chorus, except for Mallory. It's on purpose, this singsong, meant to make her feel like a school teacher we dread seeing.
