“The lies.”
Before I can defend myself, voices echo outside the room. Someone screams our names.
Wilder lifts a brow. “Does that sound like…”
“Janus!”
Wilder and I burst from the room to find President Janus Dyer in the hallway, wearing her purple party suit and a wild-eyed expression.
“What is it?” I ask, heart in my throat.
“The apocalypse is here.”
“Hello,are you even listening to me?”
The bartender stares at me like I’ve grown whiskers and a tail. But I ignore him, arranging the crystal tumblers into the perfect pyramid.
“If you arrange the glasses like this,” I explain over the distant hum of celebratory conversation, “they’ll be easier to grab and look aesthetically pleasing in photos and to the guests.”
The bartender doesn’t say a word, and I frown. Why do all the people I hire look at me with the same blank expression? I’m beginning to think everyone is inept.
“Gi, I think he gets it,” Meg says beside me. Her dark eyes, magnified behind her glasses, hold concern—not for me, but for the man I’m currently terrorizing with my perfectionism.
Leigh trusted me to make her wedding weekend memorable. And dammit, that’s what I’m going to do, but judging by the apologetic look Meg gives the bartender on my behalf, maybe I don’t have to act like a cartoon villain while doing it.
“Carry on,” I tell the bartender, who quickly resumes filling orders.
Taking Meg’s hand, I lead her to the buffet table. I haven’t eaten all night, and before I can relax and dance with her, I need some food. While I was trying to grab a bite earlier, I sawthe president rushing out. The problem at the bar tore me away before I could ask anyone about her sudden departure.
I stop in my tracks. The canapé platters look sparse. Are we out of salmon puffs? With a groan, I scan the crowd for the caterer.
“I think she ran off in tears after your last encounter,” Meg teases.
“I was offering constructive feedback.” I’d politely informed the caterer that the servers need to wash their hands after petting the rabbits. No one wants tularemia.
“You mean criticism?”
My stomach tightens. “Is that what it sounded like? It’s a safety precaution.”
Meg shrugs, and her solid blue dress sways. “One that everyone knows. Besides, didn’t you say you weren’t going to obsess over wedding details tonight? That you’d let the staff handle things and have fun? You’ve done enough. Let your assistants take over from here.”
“I’m trying.” But I want everything to be perfect.
Meg lifts a brow.
I let out a sigh. Yes, I’ve promised to stop saying yes to everyone else’s demands and start focusing on my own needs. Except this party is the exception. Leigh’s mybest friend, and she’s gettingmarried.
I scan the thinning crowd—there’s no sign of Leigh or Wilder anywhere. I hold back a snort. I knew she wasn’t going to bed alone.
“How about we dance now?” I ask, pushing my hunger aside. “You love this song.” It’s a string version of a pop song Meg always plays when she and her sisters close their family bar back home in Aurora. Alec is there now, unable to close the bar for the entire weekend, and Phe, the youngest, is due to give birth to her first baby any second now.
“I’d love?—”
“Gi, can we talk?” Ry appears behind me, his energy tense.
I jump and glance at Meg. Usually, I keep our interactions limited to the typicalhiandbyeto avoid any awkwardness. If he’s here to discuss our relationship, he’s a year too late.
“I’m busy,” I say firmly. “Meg and I are going to dance.”
