Page 52 of A Little Complicated

“Yeah. It’s actually a pretty big deal. I know you’re not usually a fan of events like this, but a lot of really incredible people will be there.”

“That’s…amazing, Archer,” I answer, too distracted by the man in front of me to give my boyfriend my full attention. He’s staring at me. Shamelessly eavesdropping without giving a damn how uncomfortable it makes me.

“You’re going to love it,” Archer adds. “It’s a black-tie event, though.”

Thatgrabs my attention, making my nose scrunch. “As in…fancy?”

“Yeah, and I know it’s short notice, but I’d love it if you could come. Do you have any appropriate dresses?”

“Um…,” I gulp. “I don’t exactly own a lot of dresses,period, and I’m pretty sure none of them are considered black-tie worthy.”

“Any chance you can go shopping today? I know you don’t have a car, but I can see if I can ditch my next meeting or ask my mom to send over a dress.”

“It’s fine,” I mutter. “I’ll, uh, I’ll figure it out.”

“You sure? Maybe I can call Mav and see if—”

“I’m actually here with your brother now,” I announce, because if I don’t, I’ll feel like I’m hiding something from him. Which is ridiculous. I have nothing to hide.

“You’re with Maverick?” Archer asks.

“Yeah, I ran into him at the coffee shop, but, uh, he has a date, so he’s a little busy and can’t babysit me today. Bummer, right?”

“I don’t have a date,” Maverick growls. Thankfully, his brother doesn’t hear him.

I turn around and face the barista again, desperate for privacy, as I check the time on the clock hanging on the wall behind her. “Besides, even if he wasn’t busy, I’m a big girl, remember? I can figure out how to get a dress. What time do you need me to be ready?”

“Seven?” Archer offers.

I nod again. “Okay. Sure. I’ll be ready at seven.”

A pause follows, along with his sigh. “Are you sure you’re okay going? I don’t want to pressure you.”

“It’ll be fun,” I argue, but I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yup.” I hang up the phone, reeling as my laid-back Saturday was just taken hostage.

“I’m too busy for what, exactly?” Maverick asks behind me. “And what’s happening tonight?”

Twisting around, I take a sip of my latte, downing half of it as I shove my phone into my back pocket. “There’s a dinner or something. Apparently, Archer found me a seat at his table? I don’t really know how it works, but is there any chance you know a store where I can find a fancy dress?”

He frowns. “You hate dresses.”

“How do you know I hate dresses?” I counter.

“When was the last time you wore a dress?”

“Prom,” I offer, belatedly realizing the can of worms I accidentally opened.

Oops.

Instead of running from the awkward silence like usual, I let it wash over us, holding Maverick’s unreadable stare as if daring him to ask me about it. About the night he bailed on me. About the night he broke my heart and refused to talk to me. The night he proved how little he cares.

Yeah. You fucked up, Buchanan. What are you gonna do about it?

The cords in his neck tighten. “You can’t wear your prom dress tonight.”

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