“Thanks to you,” I say, and he smiles. “Now, two things.”
I watch as he reaches into the glove compartment in front of my knees and pulls out a small bottle of whiskey.
“Really?” I ask.
“What?” he asks as he breaks the seal.
“Do you always drive around with a bottle of Jack in your car?” I tease.
“Of course not. I brought it specifically for this occasion.”
“Because you knew I’d be a basket case?” I ask as he hands me the bottle.
“Because I knew we both needed a little liquid courage. Revenge mission or not, we still have to see Daniel Colby, and that is never a win,” he says. I roll my eyes. He winks at me, and I take a swig.
“Fuck,” I cough a little. I pass it to him, and he takes a big sip, swallowing it with ease.
“Jesus, how do you do that?” I ask.
“Whiskey is my poison,” he says, taking another sip and handing it back to me. I take a deep preparatory breath then exhale before taking another sip. My face scrunches up because I dread the taste before it even hits my lips.
“Jesus, that’s bad,” I choke out.
“Says the girl who has tequila for breakfast,” he jokes, and I laugh. Nasty or not, it’s doing the job.
“Now, what was the other thing?” I ask.
“Oh, right,” he says, reaching in my lap and grabbing the ring box that I had closed. I watch as he pops it open and pulls the ring out. He uses his other hand to take my hand in his and then he slides the ring onto my finger.
“It fits,” I say.
“It does,” he says, and for a moment we both just stare at it. Then he looks away.
“Okay, let’s do this,” he says, opening his door.
The wedding is exactly what I expected. Rushed. Shallow. Over-done. Thrown together. Robotic vows. The whole thing is a charade. Angie’s makeup is over the top, and so are her tears. I have mixed feelings watching them together up there. I can’ttell if they are genuine; one thing feels very obvious…whatever is going on between them has been going on for a long time.
Which means since he bought me that first drink, all the time we spent together after that, when he told me he didn’t need or want to rush things physically, and claimed he didn’t believe in casual sex or even having sex without being in love...
It was all a lie.
If Asher hadn’t come storming in and tearing the whole thing apart, it would have been bad.
Suddenly, a hand grabs mine, and I snap back to reality. Asher is smiling comfortably, his hand around mine. “You’re okay,” he whispers just as the pastor announces that Daniel may kiss the bride. Strangely enough, in that moment, I am okay.
More than okay, really.
We stay for the reception, grabbing drinks, indulging in the charcuterie spread set up like a grazing table, and Asher makes small talk with a couple of people. I’m not surprised; he knows a lot of the people here. With the exception of a few close friends of Daniel’s, most people in the industry see Asher and Daniel’s tension as just friendly competition. They’re naïve though; it’s actually a deep-rooted animosity that will never change.
Asher is getting another whiskey sour, and I am halfway through my second mini dessert when I hear a familiar voice behind me.
“Harper…”
Angie, AKA the bride, is closing in on me fast. I swallow the petite four in my mouth before fully chewing it, and it hits my stomach like a rock. I pat the corners of my mouth and set the plate aside.
“Hello, Angie. Beautiful wedding.” I force a smile. I look over to the bar in the hopes that Ash sees me. I have talked to her a hundred times before, but only in a work setting. Unlike thistime, where she has just married my ex-fiancé. I am suddenly feeling a little less courage than I’d like to admit.
Luckily, Ash has his drinks, and he is coming in hot.
