Page 22 of Married at Midnight

Her gaze strayed to the clock. She turned her back on the face of the old man still frowning there. “Some are better than others.”

“Have fun. I’m going to head into my lab on the university campus while you’re gone. We’re finalizing the final stages of the new computer system. I don’t want to leave the engineering to anyone else,” he said, leaving her alone in the foyer with the grandfather clock.

Ellie glanced up at the timepiece once more, and her breath caught. Was it her imagination, or did the corner of the old man’s mouth bend up in a smile?

Ellie stood outside The Lucky Club forty minutes later. Fat, cold drops of rain fell from the sky as wind swirled around her feet. Without an umbrella to shield her, water slithered down her face and onto her neck, but she wasn’t ready to go inside yet.

Jordan would have told Olivia that she was married. The fingers of her right hand moved over to her left, twisting the diamond ring Connor had given her around and around. She’d attempted to take the ring off before coming tonight, but she found she didn’t have the will to slip it off her finger. It was important to her to honor the agreement she and Connor had made.

Dropping her hands to her sides, she pushed forward through the arched doorway and into the noisy bar. Her friends would expect to hear all about her trip to Las Vegas and the strange turn her life had taken there. She drew in a fortifying breath and moved toward their usual table in the back.

Olivia and Jordan were already there. Olivia waved to her, spotting her the moment she entered the room. Olivia looked so much more at ease since she and Max had married. Instead of her brunette hair coiled up at the back of her head, she’d left her wavy locks free to fall across her shoulders and down her back. “Hey, you,” Olivia greeted her with a smile.

Ellie slid into a chair opposite her two friends. “What a weekend,” she said.

“I’m dying to hear how the two of you hooked up,” Jordan said, taking a sip of her champagne.

“Congratulations.” Olivia’s dark eyes glittered with happiness. “Jordan told me your news. We’re having an impromptu bridal shower tonight. We brought you presents.” Two packages were stacked in the center of the table, wrapped in silver-and-gold paper.

Ellie frowned. “Presents for me?”

“Of course,” Olivia said. “It’s not every day one of our friends gets married.”

Ellie fingered her wedding ring again, suddenly unsure about boasting to her friends that she was only in this thing for the short haul, not forever.

“Forget the presents,” Jordan said, pushing a waiting glass of pink champagne Ellie’s way. With her pale skin, short black hair, and green eyes, Jordan’s Irish heritage was undeniable. Her fiery temper was just as fierce. “Why on earth did you marry Connor Grayson? Tell us every detail.”

Ellie reached for her champagne and took a long drink in an effort to ease a sudden tightness in her throat. She set the drink down, and still she hesitated.

These two women were her best friends. In the past, they’d told one another everything. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them with the truth now. It was that she didn’t trust her own response when she told them. She struggled not to close her eyes and let herself remember the feeling of being in Connor’s arms. She’d forgotten how gentle he was—forgotten how he could make her feel protected and breathless at the same moment.

She drew a tight breath and forced the memory away. “We met in Las Vegas. The details are a little fuzzy.”

Olivia frowned. “What would make the memory fuzzy?”

“You were drunk, weren’t you?” Jordan sat back in her chair with a measuring smile.

“A little.” Ellie admitted the partial truth with a wince.

“Ha!” Jordan exclaimed.

“Ignore Jordan. I’m sure it was magical,” Olivia replied with a warning glance at Jordan. “How could your wedding be anything but an event?”

Pressing her lips together, Ellie dug into her purse and pulled out the one picture she’d kept from those the Elvises had brought to their room the morning after. She held it out to Olivia and Jordan. “Not that I remember much, but this proves it wasn’t exactly the wedding I’d always dreamed of.”

A crack of laughter escaped Jordan. “You got married by Elvis?”

Ellie nodded. “In the Chapel of Burning Love with three other Elvis impersonators as our attendants.”

“For you, the wedding planner, to be married by Elvis impersonators.” Jordan snorted. “That’s hysterical.”

“I’m an event planner,” Ellie corrected. Why did everyone always get that wrong?

Olivia frowned, studying the picture. She looked off into the distance, then returned her gaze to Ellie. “How many Elvises were there?”

“Four. Why?”

Oliva set the picture on the table in front of Ellie. “It’s nothing. I’m probably imagining things that aren’t there.”