Page 65 of All Signs Point to Malibu

I glance back and forth between Sonia and Liam, holding my breath. Will Sonia be honest? Is this how her secret will come out?

“Sonia? An actress?” Liam scoffs like the suggestion is absurd before she can answer.

Sonia’s expression changes to one of annoyance as she turns toward Liam. “Why is that so far-fetched?”

Liam looks slightly taken aback. “’Cause acting was just a phase for you...it’s not actually your thing—thank God.” He turns quickly to Amelia. “No offense to your profession.”

“None taken, dear. You’re not exactly my audience,” she says, putting Liam firmly in his place. Then to Sonia, “You could be one if it was actually your thing.”

Sonia smiles at her gratefully and Amelia shoots me a look that suggests this couple is doomed before she walks away...

...giving me the confidence to proceed with my plan.

I motion for DJ Scale to cut the remix of an upbeat Whitney Houston song, then clink my glass for everyone’s attention.

Sonia’s family and friends turn their attention toward me and I smile brightly. “I hope everyone is having a good time. I want to take a moment to personally offer my congrats to the beautiful couple.” I raise my glass and smile at Liam and Sonia. It feels deceitful and I can acknowledge that I’m not a very nice person right now, but I’m doing this for their own good. Especially if that tense interlude a moment ago is any indication. “And... I have a fun surprise planned. If I could get you two to sit right up here.” I’ve already positioned two lawn chairs back-to-back in preparation.

Sonia and Liam look slightly nervous as they approach and sit.

I turn toward the BBQ and motion Warren to come closer.

He shakes his head. Doesn’t want the spotlight, but I cross the yard toward him and drag him forward. He removes the apron and gives a shy wave to the guests.

“The best man, everyone!” I announce to the crowd. A good man who’s being dragged into my scheme. I push guilt aside—he insisted on being a part of all of this.

The guests cheer for him and I hand him a piece of paper.

He glances at it. “What’s this?”

“Your game questions,” I say casually, as though I mentioned this plan of mine to him before. I pick up writing pads and markers hidden under the dessert table (dessert turning out to be fresh-cut fruit we picked up on the way back from Warren’s, the erotic baked goods safely disposed of in the dumpster at the end of the block) and turn to the guests. “We are going to play Couple Compatibility!”

The crowd gathers closer as I hand Sonia and Liam the writing pads and markers. “Rules are simple. Warren and I will ask a series of questions and Sonia and Liam will answer, without looking at the other’s answer. Points for matching answers.”

Warren looks slightly uneasy and the couple don’t seem overly confident either. If they are truly compatible, they have nothing to worry about. Part of me hopes they can prove me wrong.

“Ready?” I ask.

Nods in response.

“First question—Where is the perfect place to spend Christmas?” I ask.

The two write, then hold up their answers. Sonia has written “Banks Resort in the Alps.” Liam has written “Family cottage on the coast of Florida.” They compare answers and Sonia laughs, but it’s definitely not a happy sound.

“It’s tradition to go skiing for Christmas. I told you about it,” she says to Liam, a forced-looking smile on her face as she eyes the crowd.

Liam smiles at her. “Yeah, no the Alps it is. Totally forgot. It’s tradition,” he says.

A tradition he’s going to hate. Liam doesn’t enjoy winter sports or being cold for that matter. His move to New York was solely for career advancement. Besides, his own family tradition of Christmas on the beach means a lot to him. Even after the divorce, his parents would get together at the cottage in Florida and put aside their differences long enough to enjoy the holidays as a family for Liam’s sake. They always put him first.

Which only solidifies how much they must be against this marriage if they’re standing in solidarity on its boycott.

I gesture for Warren to ask the next question and he reluctantly does. “Where will you be headed for a honeymoon?”

They write and reveal. Sonia wrote “Italy.” Liam wrote “No time for a honeymoon.” Sonia frowns when she twists in her chair to read his response. “No time?”

“We’re breaking ground on the resort right after the wedding,” he says and I notice his gaze meets Mr. Banks’s across the yard. The older man nods his approval, but Sonia doesn’t look happy.

“Maybe you can take a honeymoon once all the resorts are built,” I interject and both Sonia and Mr. Banks flinch at the plurality I used. Fantastic, so Liam still doesn’t know.

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