Page 37 of Stuck With the Best Man

I can’t have him. He’s on the Board of Directors and I won’t risk jeopardizing my reputation. That’s where my stubbornness is coming from. If I can convince myself that I dislike this man, then it’s easier to swallow the truth that there is no possible future for us.

I’m lying to myself. Lying to him.

Still, it’s probably for the best.

“I don’t dislike you,” I murmur. Part of me hopes that I said it too softly for him to hear, but that’s just wishful thinking.

Ben is quiet for a moment.

“I’ll take that as a huge compliment,” he replies.

Chapter Twelve: Ben

Idon’tdislikeyou.

It’s not exactly high praise, but coming from Ruby, it’s almost exactly what I had hoped to hear. Still, admitting that she doesn’t dislike me doesn’t mean that she actuallylikesme or even tolerates me.

I feel like I’m making progress, though. Even as her mood worsens with the rainfall.

It’s not looking good. As we approach Worcester, traffic picks up. I’m guessing it’s the beginnings of rush hour combined with the collective panic brought about by the threat of yet another major storm. People are rushing to get home, to the grocery store, or to pick up their kids.

Traffic slows to a crawl on the outskirts of the small city. It’s a few minutes past four.

“I think we should have left Mermaid Shores earlier,” I say. I’m craning my neck, trying to see further ahead of the crawling traffic to where it might be speeding back up, but there’s no hope in sight.

“I suggested to leave by ten.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

The fact that we didn’t leave the Cape until noon is definitely my fault and I’m not going to pretend otherwise. It’s not that I was sleeping in, though. I got up at a perfectly reasonable hour. The problem is that I got stuck on a call with my father yet again and had to sit through over half an hour of him berating and lecturing me on my own position on the board… despite the fact that he, himself, has never served on the board of a ballet company.

By the time I managed to wrench myself free of the conversation, I had to quickly jump in the shower, pack my bag, and gas up the car. It didn’t help that I’m unfamiliar with the town Ruby grew up in, so I got turned around about three different times thanks to the road closures caused by the storm.

I don’t bother explaining any of that to her now. It is what it is. If she wants to be angry at me for it, I’m sure she can just add it to the long list of my transgressions.

The rain picks up by the time we finally navigate around Worcester. Traffic remains heavy, however, because it’s raining so hard that, even with the wipers on the highest setting, it’s an effort to see through the sheet of water pouring down. The cars ahead of us are nothing but murky blurs of dull color and glaring red brake lights.

Our top speed is about thirty-five miles an hour.

It’s almost five, and we’re still hours from New York.

At this rate, I’m starting to think we won’t make it back to the city until midnight at the earliest. If we’re lucky, that is.

Ruby is frowning down at her phone. It’s glowing white in the dim light that’s been cast over us from both the storm and the evening hour.

“It looks like this is just the edge of the storm front,” she says, furrowing her brow as she attempts to decode the weather map on her screen. “It’s supposed to move south again within the hour and stick to the coastline. As long as we stay inland until the last possible second, I think we might be able to get around it.”

“Unfortunately, I think everyone else on the road seems to have the same idea.”

Ruby sighs. At some point, she twisted her hair up into a lopsided bun, loose and pretty in a way that would be totally inappropriate for a ballerina on stage yet flatters her, nonetheless. She’s been fussing with the air-conditioning controls for the past hour, complaining about the humidity and then complaining that the car gets too cold, too fast. She finally settled on burrowing into her hugely oversized hoodie and leaving the AC on blast.

Luckily, I like the cold.

“Maybe we should wait it out,” she suggests.

“What?”

“Well, if the rain is going to move away from this area shortly, maybe it’s better to just get off the road for a little bit and let the traffic clear out.”

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