Page 4 of The Version You Hide

“Mackenzie!” I look up as my name is called, echoing across the expanse. My sister, Kristen stands on the edge of the lawn, smiling and waving her arms wildly at me, her hot pink gown shimmering beneath the soft glow of the lights strung above. “Hurry!”

My chest deflates with a heavy sigh, my eyes rolling involuntarily knowing that my reprieve from the party is now over.

Dylan lets out a soft chuckle beside me. “Looks like you’re being summoned.”

“I guess so.”

There’s a moderate tugging sensation as I stand, followed by the sound of fabric tearing. I cringe as a draft of warm air wraps itself around my knees. Knees that should be covered by the long dress I’m wearing.

My eyes snap to Dylan’s in time to catch one dubious eyebrow shoot toward his hairline. His lips have curled into a thin line, fighting to keep a grin contained.

“Please tell me that was just a rip in the time-space continuum.” I squeeze my eyes shut as I anticipate his response, knowing it won’t be the one I want to hear.

“Yeah. Sure. That,” he says, obediently playing along. “Or… the bottom of your dress got caught on that log and tore clean off.”

“Dammit!” I cry as I inspect the once-floor-length frock that now resembles a mini dress.

“Bad luck really seems to be following you around tonight, huh?” Dylan laughs, but the grin is wiped clean from his face when he sees the hurt in my expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I just meant… how you tripped and then…” He gestures to the gaping flap of material at my feet.

I’m sure he probably didn’t mean it how it sounded, and I don’t know why his remark even upset me. This notion that my life is somehow cursed isn’t new to me.

I huff out a breath, ignoring his apology. “Kristen is going to kill me.”

Because of course, I’d borrowed this from her closet too.

“No, she won’t. You know Kristen. She’ll understand.” His tone is sympathetic, his eyes kind.

I haven’t known Dylan all that long, but despite my natural tendency to suspect the worst in people, I have to admit he seems dependable.

When Henley had been in trouble, he’d been there. When Kristen needed a friendly face, he’d been the one to console her. But right now, his words of comfort irritate me.

They shouldn’t. But they do.

Because I’ve just realised what irks me about my future boss right here.

He’s nice. He’s too nice.

And I can’t trust nice.

“Mackenzie!” Kristen calls again from behind the tavern, waving me to the makeshift dancefloor. “Let’s go!”

I look up to see all the female guests of the wedding grouping on the dancefloor behind Liv, our blushing bouquet-toting bride.

“Ugh,” I groan. “You have to be kidding me.”

Despite it all, Dylan lets out another chuckle.

“You better hurry. Looks like you’re up for the bouquet toss.”

I scoff. “As if! Like I want to catch that stupid thing.”

Dylan is subjected to one of my filthiest scowls as I sling the pair of heels over my shoulder and hike up the torn pieces of my dress.

“Finding a man is literally the furthest thing from my mind,” I mutter, as I stomp up the slight incline in the direction of the crowd, the tattered material trailing behind me.

A crease forms between Kristen’s brows as I approach. No doubt she’s assessed the discomfort on my face, but she might just be inebriated enough to bypass the current state of the dress she loaned me.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

---