Page 25 of Stuck With the Best Man

“But this route will take longer.”

“And getting caught in a flood will take even longer than that.”

Ruby scoffs quietly, but argues no further. We head further inland, where the weather is still gray and misty, yet the roads are mostly clear from damage.

“Do you want me to turn on the radio?” I ask after another tense five minutes of silence passes.

“The radio?”

“Or Spotify, I guess. Whatever.”

“I’m fine. I prefer the quiet.”

Her words are pointed—the hidden message being that she wishes I would shut up.

“Alright,” I mutter.

She really is a tough nut to crack. It’s so tempting to resign myself to the belief that she’s this unpleasant with everyone, but I know that’s not true. When I observed her with Eva and the bridesmaids, she was reserved, but sweet and smiling the entire time. She laughs so easily with others and is more than willing to talk if someone else pulls her into a conversation.

Apparently, I am the one exception to her friendliness. I can’t help feeling like it’s way more than theGisellething. Sure, I feel pretty guilty about the fact that I messed up a big opportunity for her, but I had absolutely no idea that I was doing it at the time. How was I supposed to know? I was just trying to do the right thing for the company.

Plus, I apologized. It’s not like I told her that I don’t care about the missed opportunity, or that I’d make sure to do it to her again. I thought I was pretty clear about the fact that I knew I’d made a mistake.

It’s something else. It has to be. She hates me for another reason.

Maybe she hates me because of who I am. Maybe it’s as simple as that. She’s a small-town girl who has had to work herself to the bone to get into one of the best ballet companies in the world. I’m the son of a billionaire arts philanthropist who has worked very little in his life. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I’m trying to take my responsibilities seriously. I would understand if Ruby hated me on principle.

That doesn’t mean I’m willing to accept it, though.

Because I really can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something.

While I descend into my thought spiral, Ruby fiddles with the seat controls. She moves the passenger seat back as far as it can go. At first, I think she’s going to take a nap, but then she stretches out her long legs and starts kneading her muscles.

Right. Because a ballerina’s body can’t sit cramped in a car for hours on end. Dancers like Ruby spend their lives pummeling their bodies into shape. It’s a precarious balance between being at the peak of athleticism and pushing their ligaments a little too far.

For twenty torturous minutes, I remain quiet while she stretches. I have to keep reminding myself to keep my eyes on the road instead of admiring her long limbs. She’s wearing plain black leggings and a cotton tee that’s at least three sizes too big for her, but she somehow still looks effortlessly graceful and glamorous.

When she’s done, she readjusts the seat and goes right back to staring out the window.

I let out a heavy sigh. “Ruby…”

I feel her eyes on me, but I keep mine focused on the road ahead.

“What?” she mutters. “Is there an issue with the route?”

“No, it’s just… I can’t help thinking that your very obvious dislike of me is more than just theGisellething.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I’ve seen you around other people, Ruby. I seem to be the only one who gets snapped at. I know what I did resulted in a big disappointment for you, but you also know that it wasn’t my intention. I apologized. I don’t really know what else I can do, so I need you to tell me. Because if we spend the next five hours in this tense silence, I might go insane.”

Ruby doesn’t say anything. When I’m finally brave enough to sneak a sideways glance at her, she’s frowning down at her hands in her lap.

I wait, thinking she just needs time to gather her thoughts.

The highway sails by, offering us nothing but endless views of deep green pines and gray asphalt.

“Fine,” she says at last. “It’s not justGiselle.”

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