Page 26 of Stuck With the Best Man

I almost want to sigh in relief, but this isn’t exactly a good thing to be right about.

“What is it, then? I’m not too proud to admit that I don’t like being disliked. I want to fix this. Just tell me.”

Ruby heaves a loud sigh. “Seriously? You really don’t remember?”

Chapter Nine: Ruby

Ican’tkeepitto myself anymore. Ben has a point. If we’re about to spend the next five hours alone together, the tension is just going to get worse and worse. Unfortunately, I’m just not the type of person who can put on a brave face and pretend to like someone when they’ve done me wrong.

So, maybe if I tell him the full truth, he’ll help me understand why I never heard from him again. Maybe he has a good reason for it.

Then maybe, just maybe, I won’t be at risk of gaining a real enemy on the Board of Directors.

“Remember what?”

Ben’s response makes my blood boil with annoyance, but I know I need to stay cool and calm during this particular conversation. I don’t want to come across like a child. God forbid Ben starts to think I’m too immature to handle a principal role. He has too much influence for me to continue being so stubborn about this.

We need to clear the air.

I run my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath.

“We’ve already met before, Ben.”

He looks at me sideways for perhaps a little too long, considering he should be paying attention to the road, but he seems like a decent enough driver.

“What do you mean?”

“Last summer, we met at the Strand. The bookstore. We spent the whole day together. We… you walked me home.”

Ben is quiet for a long time. So long that I’m wondering if I should just wrench open the door and let myself roll out onto the highway.

“That’s not—that wasn’t—that…” He trails off, stumbling over his words in a way that I’ve never heard him do before. “That girl’s name wasn’t Ruby. It was… I mean, I think it was, like, Riley, or something like that. Rosie, maybe?”My brow furrows deeply. “No, Ben. Her name was Ruby. Because it was me. Ruby. That’s my name.”

He shakes his head. “No, I—”

“Yes.”

Ben’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. He looks at me again. There is blatant recognition in his eyes, along with immense amounts of guilt and horror.

Then, once again, he shakes his head.

“That girl had dark hair, though. Not blonde.”

“No, she—” I stop myself, realization dawning on me.

I remember that I had been talking to Eva about wanting to try a new hairstyle. I’d been keeping it long and natural my entire life, mostly because it was easiest to twist up in a bun like that. Instead of a daring new cut, however, Eva suggested I try dyeing it.

So, I did. Just a few shades darker. Barely brunette, and it washed out by the end of the month.

But still. Ben is right. I was very muchnotblonde when we met eleven months ago.

“Fine. My hair was light brown at the time,” I tell him. “But you can’t honestly think I believe that a change in my hair color was enough for me to now be unrecognizable to you.”

“Actually, I’ve been trying to figure out why you looked so familiar. I thought maybe it was because I’d seen you on stage so many times. And then I figured it might also be because I’ve bought a couple of your twin’s paintings. It felt stupid to ask you outright, though. If we’d met before, I mean.”

“So… you do remember?”

Ben frowns at me. “Of course I remember. Maybe I didn’t connect the dots that it wasyou, but I do remember that day. It’s a little hazy, but… yeah. We kissed. I wouldn’t forget something like that.”

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