“No worries.” She shrugs. “I’m honestly relieved for you. Don’t get me wrong. I love working here, but night and weekend shifts would’ve been a lot once school started up again.”
“My thoughts exactly.” I go up on my toes to scan the room again.
“If you’re looking for Dex, he and Sayla are in the back. They just had a bucket of champagne delivered to their table.”
“Fun!” I fake a smile.
So much for staying under the radar.
“Newlyweds, right?” Maddie smirks. “Those two are just so disgustingly happy.”
Ah, okay. Sothat’sthe angle they’re playing up. I should’ve known Dex and Sayla wouldn’t have been so obvious.
“On that note.” Maddie tips her head. “Aren’t you a newlywed too?”
I blink at her, startled. How on earth would Maddie have heard about Bridger and me? I press out a nervous laugh. “You must be thinking about someone else.”
A guy shoves his way up to the bar, calling out for two IPAs, so Maddie grabs a couple of chilled bottles from the fridge, pops the tops, and hands them over.
“Pretty sure I’m thinking about you,” she tells me, moving to the register to update the guy’s tab. “I never forget a conversation.”
“With me?” I squeak.
“No, Sayla. She was in here last fall, babbling about some romantic dinner you were having with your fiancé. Then again, that woman can’t hold her liquor. She’s sweet, but she was toast before her second glass of wine.”
Foster.
Sayla was talking about Foster.
I choke out a laugh, part relieved, part nauseated. “Well, I’m not engaged.”Anymore.“Or married.”Until tomorrow.
“Then we have that in common,” Maddie snarks, darting a glance at the back corner of the bar. “Have fun with the newlyweds tonight,” she says. “Maybe encourage your friend to stick to one glass of champagne.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” I say. Then I make things worse by saluting her.
Hot flames shoot up my neck as Maddie’s lip quirks. “Ahoy, matey.”
I’d been planning to ask her to send Bridger over when she sees him, but he’ll have to fend for himself now. I’m way too busy pushing my way through the sea of people, hoping to escape the pirate ship of awkwardness I just left at the bar.
“We’re over here!” Dex calls out, waving me over from across the room. He and Sayla are at a high-top table tucked into a dark corner. Four half-filled champagne flutes are in the center, along with an open bottle chilling in an ice bucket.
As I approach, Dex hands me one of the glasses. “Welcome, bride-to-be!”
“Hold please,” Sayla chirps, lifting her phone high. “Okay, smile!”
“What are you doing?”
“Act surprised!”
I freeze, trying to talk without moving my lips. “Am I supposed to smile or act surprised?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” She takes a series of pictures, both landscape and portrait. “You look like a deer in headlights, which will make perfect sense when Bridger tells his mom all about how your best friends surprised you with a night-before-the-wedding bachelor and bachelorette parties.”
“Ahhh. Got it.” Feedback shrieks from the karaoke speakers, and I cringe. “I just wasn’t prepared for all this,” I admit, arranging my face into what I hope looks like gratitude. “It’s … a lot.”
“Hey.” Dex puts a hand on my elbow. “You all right?”
“Oh, sure,” I say, a little too enthusiastically. “I think I’ve just spent a few too many nights with a sixty-five-year-old man who can answer every question onJeopardy, but sometimes forgets who I am.” I force some laughter that’s extra bright and, possibly, overcompensatory. In fact, that should probably be my theme word for this year.