Page 21 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“Yeah, haven’t you seenthem?”

“I have, but you knowthey’re not going to complain about anything to me.” He held up ahand to refuse sausage from another server as we moved down theline. “Do they like the place?”

“Mom thought it would be tooloud from the second we arrived. But other than that, I haven’theard any complaints yet. And do you really want to know aboutthem?” Sometimes, Scott’s desire to please our parents drove me upone wall, over the ceiling, and down the other. “Are you going toput them up in a different hotel? Move the whole resort somewhereelse?”

“Fair, fair.” He let thesubject drop. “How about you? Not that you’ve had much time to lookaround.”

“I saw an alligator. Kindof.” Klaxons went off in my brain. What if he’d talked to Matthewtoday and knew about the alligator? It didn’t have to be Matthew’salligator that I saw. It could have been another alligator. Therewas more than one in South Carolina.

“Kind of?”

“It was under a bridge hereon the resort. There were guys in a golf cart trying to remove it.I saw it while I was out looking for—” I cut myself off.“Seashells.”

“Right.” Scott sighed inresignation. “I’m sure if you ask any of the guys in my weddingparty, they’ll have seashells. I’m sure they’d share.”

Oh, they would. At least, one of themwould. I shook my head. “Nah. I found my own seashells.”

“Probably better. My friendsare reprobates.” He looked over his shoulder and raised his freehand to wave to someone. My eyes followed the motion. I couldn’thelp it. I hadn’t seen Matthew this morning and I almost jumped outof my skin every time I’d thought I’d caught a glimpse of him. Butthe man Scott waved to was a skinny Black man with a graying goateeand glasses with thick black rims. Exactly the type of nerd I’dexpect Scott to hang with. Nothing that screamed“reprobate.”

Which made me wonder how the hell a guylike Matthew had ended up in the same social circle.

“That’s Leo,” Scott informedme as the guy turned to reveal his cellphone was clipped to hisbelt.

How. How did Matthew Asheend up friends with these dorks?

“Leo was in our chessclub,” Scott went on. “He’s a very predictable player. He learnedRuy Lopez and never deviates.”

“Fascinating.” I rolled myeyes.

“I’m the groom,” he remindedme. “It’s my day. I can be as boring as I want.”

“Saturday is your day,” Icorrected him. “And even then, it’s probably still Lauren’sday.”

“True,” he agreed. We sliddown the line and he pointed out which fresh fruits he wanted tothe gentleman behind the glass. “Fine, we’ll talk about yourfavorite subject instead. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing great. Neverbetter,” I lied. “Unemployed. Mooching off our parents. You’re sucha sucker for going out and getting a degree and a good life and bigpaychecks.”

“My paychecks aren’t thatbig,” Scott corrected me. “There’s no way I would have been able toafford this wedding on my own. All you need to do in life, littlesister, is make friends with someone who’s super rich.”

“I’ll get right on that.”Poor choice of words. Because I had definitely made friends andgotten right on Matthew the night before.

“Come on,” Scott said as Icollected my silverware. “I want you to meet Lauren’sparents.”

I recoiled inwardly.The Bear People. That’swhat Mom called them. She and Dad had flown out to Montana forEaster, a holiday the Bear People celebrated but our family didnot, shortly after Scott and Lauren got engaged. Our mother was asnob, so maybe her word shouldn’t have been the one solely trustedon the subject, but Lauren’s family sounded like the type of weirdforest folk TLC would give a reality show to.

I followed Scott through the maze oftables in the dining room, alternately nodding to relatives andfamily friends I liked and pretending not to see those I did notlike. Scott slapped guys on the back and thanked nearly every tablefor being there, something I knew he should do as the groom butalso something that was making my hotel buffet eggscold.

Even the swankiest resorts couldn’tmake cold scrambled eggs appealing.

“There he is!” A womancalled out from a nearby table, and Scott made a beeline in thatdirection. Every seat was already taken, thank god, so I wouldn’thave to sit with strangers.

Scott made his way over tothe woman, who appeared to be in her sixties. She had a deep,leathery tan, long, hot-pink fake fingernails, and white-blondehair in a short cut with a stacked back. She half-rose to hug Scottand kiss him on the cheek when he leaned down. “This is him. Thisis my new son.”

“Deena,” Scott said,straightening. “You got in okay, then?”

“Oh, honey. It was a dream.First class, all the way here.” She motioned across the table.“Roy! Roy!”

The man she’d waved to looked like hewould be more at home in a recliner with something boring on thetelevision. His white hair and beard combined with his red poloshirt to make him look like Santa’s brother who worked in IT. Theshirt bore a little logo of a roaring bear. He nodded to Scott,less enthusiastic than his wife but not unfriendly. He seemeduncomfortable to be in his surroundings.

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