“Ryan made the cake,” Beau mutters under his breath, and I shudder. Our friend is the world’s worst cook, bar none. “Don’t worry. I’ll ‘take care of it’ later. Try to look disappointed.”
Maura presses slightly closer to me, her bare arm against my suit-covered one. She’s nervous, I realize—as bold as she is with me, she might be overwhelmed by large groups of strangers. I gesture between her and Beau. “This is Maura, my fiancée.”
“I’m Beau. Pleased to meet you.” Beau’s eyes flash down to our hands, hers tightly clenching mine. “Hope you’re ready to marry the world’s most taciturn man. Think you can get more than a dozen words out of him tonight?”
“I hope not,” Maura says. “I’ve always gone for the strong, silent type over the wannabe talk show host.”
Beau chuckles. “Then you found the right guy.”
Cat comes around the table next, her hand on Nate’s arm. “You look gorgeous, Maura. Thanks for having us. This is my fiancé, Nate.”
Nate nods. “Hello.”
“Don’t let the frown fool you, he’s happy to be here. That's just his resting grump-face.” Cat laughs. She’s wearing a floaty blue dress, and Maura looks calmer just by soaking up Cat’s presence.
“Ryan Archer, best man,” Ryan announces, thrusting out his hand for Maura to shake.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you about him,” Pippa tells Maura, pulling her in for a quick hug.
Maura hugs Brinley next, who introduces her to her brother Luke. The three of them fall into conversation easily, and I realize two things. First, that Luke and Brinley have agreed to play nice for the occasion, since they’re usually bickering. Second, that Maura doesn’t need me by her side, babysitting her. She’s found a way to blend comfortably into my friend group.
Beau offers me a glass of wine. “Are you good?”
“Yeah,” I say, accepting the glass. “I think I might be.”
“So,”Maura says once we’re all seated for dinner. “I have a question for the best man.”
Ryan preens. “Of course you do. Please, go ahead.”
“I’m sure you get this all the time, but I have to ask. Is poker really more about math or reading people?”
“Both,” Ryan and Pippa say simultaneously. Ryan smiles enthusiastically, thrilled to be given a chance to delve into his favorite subject, while Pippa looks resigned to hear the same lecture for the hundredth time. Funnily, Pippa enjoys the game almost as much as her boyfriend—she’s just less excited to talk about it.
“Think of it like building a house,” Ryan says. “It doesn’t exist without wood, nails, cement. That’s probability. It’s the building block of poker. You couldn’t play the game without it—but you could use your tools badly. You can have all the tools to build a house and still make one that falls down when it’s windy.”
“Makes sense,” Maura says, nodding.
“Being able to read people is like getting your architecture degree. Now, you know how to use those tools to makesomething real. You need that degree if you want a game that will last.”
“I think you’re mixing up architects and contractors,” Beau points out.
“Contractors probably have a place in this analogy,” Maura concedes. “Maybe they’re the casino.”
“Just as hard to find a good casino as a good contractor,” Luke says. “We’re trying to do renovations on our warehouse and it’s been a nightmare.”
“You own Twisted Devil, don’t you?” Maura asks.
“Yeah.” Luke grins. “Do you drink it?”
“I don’t drink, but I love that bottle series you did with local artists. I think a painter I know, Ruby, made a limited-edition label for your rye?”
“Yeah, that was fantastic,” Luke says, nodding. “We sold out of all those specialty bottles. I keep meaning to do another series, but I’ve been too busy.”
“If you do it, I have some great people I could recommend,” Maura says.
The two of them start chatting about some printmakers I’ve never heard of, and I sit back, amazed. To think that earlier tonight, I thought my friends might overwhelm my fiancée, instead, she’s slotted into the group with unnerving ease. She rolls with their teasing and private jokes, and I know she’s won a permanent fan in Ryan for asking him about poker.
I suppose she knows how to pretend to be comfortable, even when she’s not. She’d have to be a good actress to live with Victor’s expectations of polite perfection. I have a feeling he’s even more demanding with his daughter than he is with his business associates. No wonder she wants a different upbringing for her child. It can’t have been easy, meeting his standards.
