Page 54 of Heart So Hollow

“Well, she definitely gets a C when it comes to picking guys. The one she has on the line right now doesn’t look like he has a clue.”

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow, “I didn’t even know she brought anyone.”

Bowen snickers, “Hildy said she might’ve told people they have an open relationship.”

“Does he know that?” I laugh.

“Good question. I don’t know where she finds all these simps,” Bowen says disapprovingly, his vanity on full display, “but she needs to find herself a real man.”

“Ah,” I nod, “like you?”

Bowen tips up his chin and shoots me a smug look, “I haven’t heard any complaints yet.”

Just then, something catches my eye, or rather, someone. Through the crowd, I see Jay dancing with someone, but Hildy is nowhere in sight. As the crowd moves, I realize he’s dancing with Sydney. At first glance, this wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary—dancing with an acquaintance at a wedding is a relatively benign activity. However, after the weird vibes back at the table, it’s clear this situation is anything but benign.

“Speaking of complaints,” I say, eyeing Jay’s hand low on Sydney’s back, “what’s the story with Jay and Sydney?”

“Story?” Bowen asks, trying to remain straight-faced.

I shoot him a look, “When she walked up to the table, you could cut the tension with a fucking knife. So, who is she—like, really?”

Bowen follows my eyes through the crowd, looking on in silence as Sydney gazes at Jay, seemingly enraptured while he speaks, “That, right there,” he says after a few moments, “is a long story…”

???

After a while, I start to forget about Hannah, her awkward introduction, and her seemingly imaginary date. As the country club begins to empty following the bride and groom’s send-off, I hit up the restroom before the drive back to Bowen’s house.

I give myself one last look in the gilded mirror over the sinks and exit the restroom into the dark corridor. The silence tells me I’m one of the last guests left in the country club. That is, until I hear the clicking of heels echoing in the marble hallway. Then I hear a voice, much louder and coming closer.

“You’ve been talking to him an awful lot,” a man says, and he’s approaching quickly, “what’s going on?”

A woman’s voice responds, filled with irritation, “Why are you even asking me that?”

I immediately recognize her voice and freeze. Glancing to my left, I see a doorway leading into another room and tip-toe through it, out of sight. The room is lined with racks and hangers and to my left is a countertop with giant wooden shutters where a wall would be. I’m in an empty coat check. I flatten myself against the wall and watch two silhouettes materialize behind the slits in the shades.

“What is he to you, anyway?” The man’s voice is accusatory, but I don’t recognize him.

I slow my breathing, trying not to move a muscle.

“He’s Hildy’s brother, they’re my best friends, what do you expect?”

My jaw drops and I laugh silently to myself. Now, I find this immensely entertaining.

“I didn’t expect to see you hanging all over him at the bar.”

Silence.

“Bet you didn’t think anyone saw that, huh?” he continues.

I arch my brow, apparently, I missed that one, too.

“He’s my friend, it’s not like that.”

I roll my eyes, I’ve only known you for a couple hours, ma’am, and I beg to differ.

As I listen to Hannah stammer away and dismiss her date’s suspicions, it occurs to me that I would’ve been an easy—and cliché—excuse for her, as well. He even has a girlfriend! But maybe there’s a reason she doesn’t want to outright acknowledge that, either.

“Maybe he shouldn’t be your friend,” the man snaps.

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