Page 7 of The Marriage Negotiation

"We can't tell his parents." My mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Our reputation will be ruined if this gets out."

"You're worried about your reputation?" Were they for real? "Some guy is going to be left at the altar because you are afraid people will think badly of you?"

"Son, you don't understand," my father insisted. "We do business with his parents. They are one of our biggest clients. If this gets out, the company could go under."

"One way or another, it's going to get out. Don't you get that? If you tell them now, it's going to be a lot less of an issue than if you wait for Peter to not show up for the ceremony."

"You tell him."

I stared at my father, wondering just how much of his mind he had truly lost. "You want me to go tell a man I have never met that my estranged brother is an idiot?"

"Peter is not an idiot." My mother jumped up and stomped her foot. "He's just scared."

I called bullshit.

"Peter is thirty-eight years old, Mother. If you keep coddling him, he's never going to learn to take responsibility for his actions."

My father's face flushed with anger. "Don't speak to your mother like that!"

Seriously?

"You're going to take a hit from this one way or the other," I said. "It's up to you how much of a hit you take."

This wasn't rocket science. If they admitted now that my brother had gotten cold feet and run off, it was going to look a whole lot better if they left Peter's fiancé standing at the altar, especially with all the wedding guests to be looking on.

"Keep trying to reach Peter," I directed, using my hospital administrator voice. "I'm going to go talk with his fiancé."

I spun around and stormed out of the room. I didn't slam the door after I walked out no how much I wanted to. My parents had taught me better than that. Under the current circumstances, it seemed like I was the only one.

I walked back down the stairs to the main floor and flagged down the closest worker, asking for the room of the other groom. I was directed to another set of stairs that led to the far side of the building.

My heart felt heavy as I climbed the stairs. I wasn't looking forward to breaking this guy's heart, but I couldn't let him stand at the altar waiting for a groom that would never appear.

Once I reached the second floor, it was easy to pick out the room where the groom was waiting. It was the third door down just like Peter's room.

I drew in a deep breath and knocked on the door.

When the door swung open, I was faced with an older man. "Hello, my name is Patrick Scotton, Peter's brother. I wondered if I could have a moment to speak with the groom."

When the man gave me a quizzical look, I smiled. "I haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet. I thought it would be rude to do so after the ceremony."

"Yes, of course." The man stepped back so I could enter the room. "I'm Oscar Dinh."

I tilted my head even as I shook the man's hand. "Dinh is a very unusual name." I'd only heard it once before and that had been a lifetime ago.

"It's Vietnamese."

I knew that.

"My parents immigrated here during the Vietnam War and opened a restaurant in San Francisco. I was born here a year later."

That explained the name.

"My son is in the other room getting ready."

I nodded and then watched as the man walked over and knocked softly on the door. I heard a voice from inside his room, but couldn't make out what was said.

Mr. Dinh opened the door and peeked his head inside. "You have a visitor, son."

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