Page 59 of Stuck With the Best Man

“Because it’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?”

“You’re really going to leave a position on the Board of Directors at the New York City Ballet just so that we can go on one date?”

Yes. No hesitation. Maybe that makes me an idiot, but I don’t think I care.

“If that’s what it takes for you to give me this chance at a do-over…”

Ruby sighs. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if that day last May was a fluke and we actually have no chemistry at all?”

I snort, shooting her a sideways glance. “I think we both know we have chemistry, Ruby.”

I know she knows it. It’s undeniable. From the moment our eyes met across the room at the rehearsal dinner to the dance we shared at the reception. The feeling that crackled between us, as sharp and tantalizing as pure electricity, when we walked down the aisle together as best man and maid of honor.

Not to mention all this bickering. If we didn’t have chemistry, we’d argue once and then never speak again. We keep going back for more. She might not be willing to admit it, but it’s clear to me that we can’t get enough of each other. That’s why I volunteered to drive her down to the city, isn’t it? Not only because I wanted the chance to redeem myself in her eyes, but also because I just wanted to be close to her again.

Plus, there’s that raw ruby and quartz that slipped into my pocket. If Ruby’s grandmother is the famous wise woman of the beach and she targeted me very specifically like that, doesn’t that mean there’s some kind of destiny at play?

Who am I to deny destiny?

“Ben…” she sighs. I brace myself, clenching the steering wheel a little bit harder in hopes that it will ground me to something. “We really hit it off last year. That’s obvious. I won’t deny that. And I think that’s the reason why I was so sour about never hearing from you again. It was only one day, but I really liked you.”

“I really liked you too,” I say. “Now that I remember.”

Ruby huffs a laugh. “But, Ben, you have to realize that as soon as we got to the conversation about what we do for work—”

“But I wasn’t working for the board at that time,” I remind her. “And if we started going out, I wouldn’t have taken the position.”

She throws her hands up in exasperation. “And then you would disappoint your father, miss out on a great opportunity, and spite would creep its way into the relationship, which would ruin it over time.”

I snort. “You seem to feel pretty confident about the outcome of something that never had the chance to occur.”

“Well, am I wrong?”

“Yes,” I insist, feeling a flicker of annoyance. Here we go again, bickering, but the fact that we’re snapping at each other over our hypothetical romance lessens the blow. “I would have just taken a different position. Maybe at the Guggenheim. Or wherever else. That’s the thing about nepotism, Ruby. When you’re enough of a privileged brat to benefit from it, there’s a wealth of opportunities available to you.”

She scoffs loudly, but doesn’t say anything.

“This is pointless,” I continue. “We’re arguing about the past. About something that didn’t even happen. Something that won’t happen. Let’s talk about the reality of the present. I like you, Ruby. I want to take you on a date.”

She fidgets in the passenger seat, frowning out the window. I can see the reflection of her troubled expression in the window.

“I would say yes,” she admits quietly. “I would say yes if it wasn’t such a risk. Listen, Ben… last year, one of the male soloists was rumored to be involved with one of our choreographers. Nothing serious. Just some lighthearted fooling around, I guess. Except, when word spread, the other male soloists started complaining that the choreographer was playing favorites. It wasn’t true. Honestly, nothing changed. But it’s a harshly competitive career. If anyone thinks that you’ve gained an unfair advantage, even if it’s not really the case, they’ll stop at nothing to make you miserable. The guys went after that soloist so mercilessly that he ended up leaving the company. He now dances for The Florida Ballet.”

I flinch. The NYC Ballet is one of the best companies in the world. The Florida Ballet is just… decent. Not even in the top ten best in the country. That soloist fell far.

“And that was just a choreographer,” Ruby carries on. “If someone was rumored to be dating amember of the board…”

“Why did he end up in Florida, though?” I hear myself ask. “Couldn’t he have gone up to Boston? Or over to Joffrey? If he was a soloist for—”

“The ballet world is small and catty,” she interrupts. “When they heard he was auditioning for other companies, they spread the rumors to all their friends and connections at the other best companies in the country. One single, stupid affair ruined this man’s career.”

We’re quiet for a long time. We hit some traffic, causing us to slow down into a single lane on the highway as the road cleanup crews clear a fallen tree from the other lane. I focus on driving, my mind buzzing with a tangle of troubled thoughts. The highway melts back into two lanes. The sun shines bright and happy overhead, almost as if the storm never happened. There’s nothing but dense green foliage on either side of the scenic route. It might seem like a normal day cruising through the rural areas of New England, if not for the fact that the roadway is still wet from the torrential rain and cluttered with leaves and bits of bark.

Maybe I do see the appeal of a small town. Just a little bit. Even with the tourists, it was quiet out there. Peaceful. No constantly congested downtown traffic or persistent stench of who-knows-what on the hottest summer days. New York City has always been my beloved home, but I can see how growing up in a place like Mermaid Shores would be a blessing.

Even though I shouldn’t, I imagine how nice it would be to go back to Mermaid Shores with Ruby someday. She could properly introduce me to her grandmother and her twin sister and show me around town with all the expertise of a local.

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