Chapter One
Layla
Valentine’s Day, 2023
“This is giving strong undecided vibes,” I told Maddie on the phone, squinting at an appetizer that peered back at me.
“Layla, you’re at theirwedding,” my best friend said, snorting. “I’m pretty sure they’re serious about each other.”
“Don’t be. Choosing Valentine’s Day as your wedding date, thereby ruining everyone else’s plans?” I scoffed as I put down the weird shrimp appetizer with the buggy eyes. “And making all the guests wearpink? Regardless of splotchy skin tone? They’re trying to compensate for something. I better investigate.”
I moved down the mile-long table of appetizers. The tablecloths were red, and black-and-white heart-shaped confetti covered every surface of the floor. I was a big fan of theshow, don’t tellrule. Not only when it came to the books I consumed, but also to the people I spent my time with. And this was screamingtelling. What did they have to prove?
Usually, the cocktail hour was my favorite part of the wedding—theonlytolerable part, actually—but this time the food selection was too fancy. A mix of caviar, seafood, and soup shooters in tiny pink glasses. It felt like I was in somekind of extravagant detox rehab, minus the celebrities and comfy yoga pants.
Maddie snickered. “How’d you get roped into attending some strangers’ wedding, anyway?”
“Hey, she is not a stranger. She’s honestly the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister.”
“Wow. Fighting words right there. Thanks a bunch, L.”
I’d only known the bride, Kellianne, for two months. She was my new teacher’s assistant at Bright Horizons Academy. But she was sweet and motivated, and she didn’t run away screaming when we got the Twos class, notoriously the most difficult age group. I showed her the ropes and invited her to our weekly drinks and monthly spicy book club meetups. She was a recent arrival to the city, and I’d learned she was trying to build new friendships. So when she asked if I could come, mentioning that only her close family was able to afford coming and that the groom had over three hundred guests, I caved.
“Listen, I usually go through three teaching assistants a year whenever I get the Twos class. One time a PTO mom had to step in for a full semester before we found someone to brave those little angels.” I plucked a champagne glass from the long table, then took a sip. “Kellianne stuck around. We are sisters-in-arms. I’d give her an internal organ if she ever needs one.” I smoothed down my pink satin dress with my free hand, peering around the grand marble lobby of the Central Park hotel where the wedding was taking place.
The couple might not be in love, but one of them was definitely rich. I’m talking golden-toilets-and-Dolce-&-Gabbana-toasters rich. A Danish prince had gotten married here two weeks ago.
“Is the food decent, at least?” Maddie sighed.
“I just had a stare-off with a shrimp. I hope that answers your question.”
“It does. But now I have to vomit again.”
“Sorry. Why is it that the more bougie the event is, the less edible the food is?”
“That question is way above my pay grade.” I heard Maddie cracking open a can of what I assumed was her seventh ginger ale today. “Isn’t it in that new hotel? Are there any dashing eligible bachelors to speak of?”
I scanned the room again. Everyone was paired off or huddled together into groups. I guessed the groom was in investment, or something equally soulless. The tall-white-men-with-Ivy-League-haircut percentage was out of control.
Virtually every person in the room had their back to me. Not that I could blame them. I stuck out like a brain cell in a flat-earther convention, with my electric green hair and red-hot lipstick.
Therewerea few fine-looking men, but I would bet my left boob that all of them wouldn’t have swiped right for me on an app, or vice versa. It was an energy thing. Theirs was will-not-be-seen-alive-in-anything-cheaper-than-Prada, and my energy gave off will-drink-water-from-the-pickle-jar-for-twenty-bucks vibes.
“No one that passes the vibe check,” I drawled to the phone, taking another sip of my bubbly drink. “I’ll just show my face, say my congratulations, and move along with my life.”
Said life currently included watching the last season ofThe Great British Bake Offand ordering pad Thai while wearing compression socks, but whatever. I wasn’t hurting anybody.
“Hey, am I hearing Ms. Rachel in the background?” I tapered my eyes.
“The answer depends on whether you’re going to chide me for giving my child screen time or not.”
“Not.”
“Then yes,Caitie’s Classroomis on.”
“What’s my godson still doing up?” I pulled the phone away from my ear to check the time. It was nine.Who the hell gets married at nine?
“I put him to bed an hour ago. I’m just too lazy to stand up and grab the remote. This pregnancy is killing me.”
