“Um…” I said, as they closed the fence. “The bride. We also met in college.”
“Youwent to Notre Dame too?” Kayden asked. “I don’t recognize you. Were you in our class?”
I swallowed audibly as the officiant asked us to stand for the bride.I did not go to Notre Dame. I went to Georgetown, which is also where Jasmine went. Am I at the wrong fucking wedding?
The fence opened again as the music rose to a crescendo and standing at the gate with her father was a very beautiful woman with long blonde hair who was absolutely, one hundred percent, not Jasmine.
“Oh no,” I whispered, covering my mouth with one hand. I watched her walk past and then whipped my head around to face Kayden. “I’m at the wrong wedding.”
He blinked at me in surprise like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard me. “What?” he whispered.
“The wrong wedding,” I hissed. “This is so bad. I have to leave.”
Kayden gently grabbed my wrist and held me in place. He leaned down to whisper in my ear as if we were two friends having a hushed conversation. “I get that you’re probably panicking, Olivia, but take a deep breath. If you walk out of the ceremony right now, every single face at this wedding is going to turn toward you. Sit tight, you can escape before the reception.”
“But I don’t belong here,” I said.
His eyes quickly searched my face. Based on his pensive expression, I got the sense several wheels in his head were turning. “We’ll pretend you’re my plus-one if anyone calls you out, okay?”
I covered my face with one hand as we sat down. Kayden let go of my wrist. “This is so embarrassing,” I said.
“No one knows except me,” he said with a friendly smile. “Your secret’s safe. Trust me, I’m not going to be drawing attention to us. Thelast thing I want is a bunch of strangers staring at me either. Enjoy the ceremony.”
He gestured toward where the happy couple stood, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. I watched as they promised to love and honor each other for all the days of their lives in what turned out to be a blessedly short ceremony. By the time the processional started, I was itching to get the hell out of there. We stood up and as each row funneled out one by one I pulled my phone out of my clutch to look at the invitation.I swear this is the right place.
“Damn it,” I whispered as I reread the invitation. Kayden took one step closer to me and looked over my shoulder.
“Did you miss the wedding you’re supposed to be at?” he asked.
“No.” I sighed. “It’s next month. August twenty-second, not July twenty-second.”
Kayden looked at his phone for half a second. “That makes the wedding a Thursday. Are you sure?”
“Yep.” I shook my head. “No wonder I screwed it up.”
“Look at it this way,” he said, as our turn to step into the aisle came. He fell into step beside me like any good pretend date and offered me his elbow. “You’re not late for your friend’s wedding.”
I laughed and looped my arm through his. “That is a bright side.” We stopped in front of the venue where people were being ushered upstairs for a cocktail hour.
I reluctantly let go of Kayden and looked around, plotting my escape.
“Would you maybe what to stay and have a drink with me?” Kayden asked, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked at me over the rim of his glasses. He nudged them back on his nose and smiled. “Please. I’m at this thing all alone and it’s the third wedding I’ve gone to alone in the lastsixty days. The thought of sitting at the singles’ table all night is already making my palms sweat.”
I searched his face, looking for the sleazy going-to-take-advantage-of-this-messy-chick vibe, but it wasn’t there. In fact, he looked unsure of himself, like asking the question had taken great effort. Perhaps I’d sat next to a genuinely nice guy.Do those still exist? Okay, to be fair, I have no right to be this jaded at twenty-four but the dating pool in Boston seems pretty slim so far.
“One drink,” I heard myself say.
Kayden smiled shyly and held out his elbow for me again in a gentlemanly gesture. I lopped my arm through his and clasped my hands together, looking up at him. “I’m glad I sat next to you and not that guy.” I tipped my head toward the man to my left who was looking one of the bridesmaids up and down like she was a five-course meal.
“Me too,” Kayden said. “I never would have let him pretend to be my plus-one.”
I laughed and followed him into the seaside venue, where the walls were made of reclaimed wood and covered in beach themed art and a sign that clearly said:Mike and Veronica.
I pointed to the sign. “So, Mike and Veronica went to Notre Dame, huh?” I asked.
Kayden laughed. “Yep, they met our senior year and fell madly in love. Might even beat your ten-year-marriage prediction.” He led me up a small staircase that opened into a large room with cocktail tables scattered about and large windows to the right that opened onto a balcony overlooking the ocean. A large wooden bar with three lines of people waiting to order was straight ahead. “What can I get you to drink?”
“At this point, I’ll drink anything,” I said. “I’d love a glass of pinot.”
