Page 43 of Honor

My recollection of the day has faded so far into the past that I don’t recall any details. I just know it’s a story that has been a part of our friendship forever.

“When it came time to sell the bakery, I knew you’d have my back.” He sighs. “I trusted you to take care of the business and get it into the hands of people who would honor its roots while building on it. You did that.”

He’s right. I did.

Baden and Vance played a part, but I shouldered most of the work involved in that deal.

When it was all said and done, Vidori made a sizable profit, but that was after I made sure Randall and his sisters got what they deserved.

“I asked you to be my best man because you’re that.” He laughs nervously. “You’re the best man I know. I trust you, so it made sense to have you standing next to me when I marry the woman I love.”

His admission surprises me because I was convinced this was all about a promise made decades ago.

“I haven’t forgotten about him.” His voice lowers. “I know Buzzy made us promise to be each other’s best men, but this isn’t about that.”

I close my eyes as I recall the look on my grandfather’s face the day he caught me bickering with Randall. He made us vow to do right by each other forever, and since neither of us had a brother, we had to pinkie swear that when the time came for us to get married, we’d be each other’s best men.

Buster Aitken was Buzzy to everyone he ever met. He wanted me to call him Gramps, but I opted for Buzzy. A few short weeksbefore his unexpected death, I finally gave in and called him my Gramps.

We sit in silence while Randall sips on his drink. I debate ordering another, but I haven’t eaten since lunch, so I need to pace myself.

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?” he asks.

“I am.”

“Charlotte is giving the food at Nova a test run before she locks them in to cater our wedding reception.” He runs a hand over his short-cropped blond hair. “I haven’t been around enough to help her with all those small details, so I’m going to surprise her by showing up for that.”

Not wanting to be a third wheel, I make that known. “Thanks for the invite, but my guess is that your fiancée would prefer dinner alone with you.”

He laughs out loud. “The maid of honor is going to be there, too. I haven’t met her yet, so we can do that together.”

“I’ll be there,” I say without giving it too much thought.

“Good.” He downs what’s left of his drink. “The next round is on me, and then I’m heading out so I can spend some one-on-one time with my soon-to-be wife.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Evie

Dining at Novatwice in one week makes me feel like I’m living a life of luxury. Not only am I enjoying some of the best food in Manhattan, but earlier today, I got to eat my fill of decadent cake and I scored a free small bouquet of pink roses.

After Lottie and I sampled six different types of cake at a bakery called Sweet Bluebells, we went to a quaint little floral boutique.

Athena Millett, the owner of Wild Lilac, carved out a few minutes to devote to Lottie even though the official bridal consultation appointment is still four days away. As Lottie fawned over a book filled with photos of extravagant bouquets, Athena assembled two small bunches of flowers for us.

I got pink roses. Lottie was handed white ones.

We were both thrilled when we walked out. I, for one, can’t wait to go back to sit down to help Lottie choose her bouquet for the wedding. We’ll also pick out mine, along with the flowers that Randall and his best man will have pinned to their tuxedo jackets.

When I went home to change into the navy blue dress I’m wearing now, I put the roses in a tall water glass and stood back to admire them since it was the first time I had fresh flowers in my apartment.

“I have a surprise for you, Evie.” Lottie’s entire face lights up as the male server fills our water glasses.

I glance up at him. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he says, tossing me a grin.

“Anyways,” Lottie draws that one word out. “Don’t you want to know what the surprise is?”

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