Page 14 of Stuck With the Best Man

I stare at the stones for another moment, then slip them back into my pocket.

Chapter Five: Ruby

“Ruby,yourealizeyou’rein the wrong spot, right?”

I stare at Lola in confusion. It’s been a long morning full of primping and polishing and princess treatment for the bride and her bridesmaids. Plus, I woke up extra early so that I could fit in a full exercise routine in the makeshift dance studio I made for myself on Gram’s front porch.

Gram had absolutely nothing to say for herself when I confronted her about the rose quartz and raw ruby she slipped into Ben’s pocket. I don’t even know how she knew about him. She’s always claimed that the wind whispers secrets to her, and I guess this is yet another reason to believe such a thing is possible.

The weirdness of it all kept me awake half the night.

So, basically, I’m exhausted. Thankfully, the magic of concealer and shimmery powder has made me look as bright-eyed and fresh-faced as the other girls.

We’re all gathered right outside the conservatory. In a matter of minutes, the double doors will swing open, and we’ll make our way down the aisle as part of Eva’s bridal procession. I can already hear the music, courtesy of a classical string quartet, and the buzzing crowd of guests. It’s a lot like what I might hear just moments before the curtains open.

Except, instead of an elaborate costume, I’m wearing a chic, floor-length gown made of deep gray satin. My hair is curled and pinned away from my face with sparkling clips, and I’m wearing heels so high that they might be bothersome if I wasn’t already used to imprisoning my feet in pointe shoes.

Lola is still waiting for an answer.

“What?” I repeat.

She gestures to Erik beside her, who is smiling with the sort of lazy masculine ease that grates my bones. Her hand is already tucked into the crook of his elbow, though I realize I’d just been reaching for him automatically as the preferable option to what my reality is.

“You’re with Ben, silly,” Lola continues, offering the man in front of her a wink.

Only then do I realize that she’s reminding me who my partner is for our march down the aisle. As the maid of honor and the best man, it’s traditional for me and Ben to lead the procession.

I wish I could say no. The last thing I want to do is rest my hand on Ben’s arm and venture down a wedding aisle with him.

But I’m not going to do that. Because that would be ridiculous. Eva doesn’t need to deal with me having a stupid temper tantrum mere minutes before her wedding is about to begin.

So, I plaster a smile on my face and say, “Of course.”

Lola grins and tugs Erik closer against her. Trying to look like I don’t want to smash the stained-glass doors to pieces, I take my place in front of them.

“Hello again,” Ben murmurs.

“Hi,” I grumble.

“You look beautiful.”

I roll my eyes and refuse to give in to the mischief in his tone that tells me he’s trying to bait me. He can tell I don’t like him, but he doesn’t even know why. It makes me want to kick him in the shin.

“I know I do,” I answer.

“Won’t you say I look nice too?”

I glare at him out of the corner of my eye. “I’m sure you’re already well aware of how good you look, Hawthorne.”

He chuckles, unbothered by my use of his surname. “True.”

I swear he wasn’t this ridiculous that day at the Strand. Back then, he was just a normal guy. Easygoing and relaxed. Confident and well-mannered in the way that the old money types are, but that’s not out of the ordinary in Manhattan.

Apparently, a lot can change in eleven months.

Maybe I was just having an off day. I’m usually a very good judge of character.

The music changes and the doors glide open as if on an enchanted wind. The conservatory of Blakeley Manor is a famous wedding venue, and for good reason. The space is spilling over with delicate tendrils of ivy and dripping with wisteria. The entire ceiling and the majority of the walls are made of glass, allowing for a sweeping view of the cliffs and the ocean beyond. Sunshine pours into the space.

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