Page 45 of Perfect (mis)Match

The woman, a white-haired New Yorker who acted like she’d seen it all, looked at Chloe like she was a toddler throwing a tantrum. “I’m not sure we have enough time for that. And these gowns are custom, they need to be paid for.”

Chloe froze. “Not…enough…time?” She looked on the verge of collapsing.

I didn’t know Chloe well, but I could tell her frantic vibe was a product of the pressure of planning a high-profile, highly scrutinized society wedding. Everything was piling up on her, and now that overload was coming out in the most unfortunate way. She wasn’t a typical bridezilla; she was a stressed-out woman who was being pushed to the brink by decision fatigue. I wished her friends would see that, too.

But maybe Paul could?

I stepped into the hallway to SOS-call him, and thirty minutes later a brigade of concerned bros arrived. Paul gave me a quick hug on the way in and reintroduced me to his old friends Aiden, Dominic, and Trent. They’d all been hanging out watching a baseball game at Paul’s place, which thankfully was close enough for them to jet over. I followed them into the fitting room but stopped when a hand rested on the small of my back.

“Well, don’t you look gorgeous,” a low voice whispered in my ear. “Room for one more in there?”

Vincent.

“What’s the latest?” he asked.

“Bridesmaid dress-induced trauma,” I said. “She’s convinced the dresses are all wrong, but I think they look amazing.”

“I can only speak for what I’m seeing, and yes, you look stunning in it.”

The way he was checking me out went beyond dress appraisal. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

A wail echoed out into the hallway, and Vincent grimaced. “Oof, okay. Let’s see if I can help out.”

I followed him into the fitting room and watched in awe as he began finessing the attendant. Everyone else was focused on calming Chloe down, which gave Vincent time to convince the woman that for the right price, they absolutelydidhave the time to create new dresses, if that was what the bride wanted.

I loved watching him negotiate on behalf of Paul and Chloe.

Once that was settled and Chloe was a little more collected, we had something of a game plan—Chloe would sleep on what she wanted to do and get back to the bridal salon the next day. In the meantime, Vincent suggested we all go out to lunch. I expected that we’d wind up at some swanky spot, but when the line of Uber Blacks stopped in front of a burger joint, I realized I still had a lot to learn about Vincent’s tastes.

He took my hand on the way in. “We’re still in it to win it through the wedding,” he murmured in my ear. “Let’s make it look good.”

A little thrill pulsed through me, and I squeezed his hand. “You make that easy.”

His eyes went soft for a moment in a way that set off butterflies in my stomach. There was something irresistible about bringing out the softer side of him that I knew few people got to see.

Even though we were at a bistro-style restaurant, Vincent still managed to level up and score us a private room, which meant we could get as rowdy as we wanted.

And Paul’s friends werefunwith a capital F.

“Hey, Vincent,” Dominic yelled down the table. “Have you told Piper about the time you got locked out of our dorm and had to climb up the side of the building Spiderman-style to get back in? And how you accidentally picked the RA’s window to climb through, and the only way she agreed to not report you was if you joined her chess club?”

“Don’t laugh, it turned out to be surprisingly fun,” he chuckled. “But I was too busy telling her about the time you mixed that disgusting tequila drink in a thirty-gallon trash can before the homecoming bonfire, and how you ended up jumping in it at the end of the night and said you were…what did he call it? The Baron of Booze?”

“The Titan of Tequila,” Aiden yelled down the table. “And now look at him. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy!”

Vincent leaned closer to me. “Dominic is the marketing director for Elixir—Aiden’s the CEO. Those guys are unstoppable.”

I loved the admiration in his voice. It was fun to see how far his guard dropped with his friends. He was quick to laugh and offer an anecdote, but he always made sure to fill me in so I understood the references.

Vincent made me feel like I was a part of this tight-knit group of old friends, and they welcomed me with open arms.

The whole table seemed happy to be together again, with the only exceptions being Paul and Chloe. They were in their own world, whisper-bickering at the far end of the table as the rest of us laughed and swapped stories. I noticed Vincent studying them, wearing a grim expression.

I leaned over and bumped my shoulder against his. “You worried about them?” I nodded toward the happy-ish couple.

He frowned. “Yeah, a little. It shouldn’t be this tough, you know?”

“Weddings are bumpy—it happens,” I reassured him. “Once they get through the big day, they’ll be fine.”

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