Page 65 of The Wedding Wrecker

I ordered myself a “tiny taco fiesta,” which was a sampler platter of fifteen tiny tacos, each smaller than the palm of my hand and loaded with precisely one bite’s worth of food.

James ordered a “tiny burrito bomb,” which was basically the same thing, except burrito style.

We took our seats on creaky barstools painted in a gaudy bright green, brown, and yellow color palette. The vinyl covering the seats was splintered from what I assumed were decades of tiny taco enjoyers.

“If nothing else,” I said, lifting my first tiny taco—beef, cheese, beans, and pickled cabbage. “These things are super cute.”

James lifted a tiny burrito and balanced it on the tip of his index finger. “Adorable,” he agreed. “But how do they taste?” he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

I took my first bite, chewed, and considered.

“Hmm,” I said. “Five stars for the tiny factor. Three stars for taste.”

James chewed his burrito, swallowed with a slight grimace, and nodded. “I’m no mathematician, but I’d say that puts us above a three star average. See? Not as bad as people said.”

I was hungry enough to deal with the mostly overcooked meat, slightly stale taco shells, and questionable ingredient combinations. I also had to admit I was having fun.

"So," I said, picking up my fourth tiny taco, "how did you even find this place?"

"Would you believe me if I said I have a sixth sense for questionable Mexican food?"

"Absolutely not. And if you did, I’d say your sixth sense was more of a curse for leading you to a place like this."

He grinned. "Fair enough. Truth is, I spent an hour this morning looking for the most ridiculous place I could find. Figured you could use a break from all that resort perfection."

"My hero," I said dryly, but something warm bloomed in my chest. He'd been thinking about me. Planning this.

"Enough about me and my talents,” he said. "How'd you get into wedding planning?"

"My parents, actually." I picked at the shell of my fifth taco. "Dad's a perfectionist who can't handle social interaction. Mom's a dreamer who can never follow through on details. So I ended up being the family organizer. Every event, every holiday—if it needed planning, it landed on my plate. I think my first official family job was a trip to Boone, North Carolina. I was twelve, and I got super into it. I called hotels, trail guides, and tourist destinations. I planned the whole thing on this giant poster board. Dad was worried about letting me handle it, but mom convinced him to give me a shot.”

“Andtada.The vacation was a smash hit. After that, they basically forced me to be the vacation planner. And that evolved into planning birthdays, anniversaries, and so on. When mom and dad wanted to get remarried in their fifties, I was twenty-two, and they asked me to plan it. At that point, I was working as a wedding photographer. I’d already been taking notes uponnotes about what made weddings perfect, and I knew exactly how I wanted to make their day amazing.”

I sucked on my drink, eyes lingering on the straw as I jabbed at the ice in my cup. “I think some part of me used to believe you could set the stage for a happily ever after if you just got the details right. The perfect wedding was like the perfect foundation. Part of me believed I was helping bring more love into the world, and that… I guess it mattered to me. It made me feel like I was doing something worthwhile."

His expression softened. "Emma?—"

"What about your family?" I cut in. "You mentioned a brother and a sister..."

James hesitated. He looked like he wanted to say more—maybe even to make an excuse or apologize for the role he might have played in the way my views had changed. But he finally sighed, then nodded with a tight jaw. “Just a brother. I made the sister up for that story. But, yeah, I used to be close with my family. My dad is a structural engineer who works on bridges and things like that. As a kid, we used to take trips sometimes to drive across bridges he worked on when they were finished. Mom would joke that we were putting our lives in his hands, and he’d tell us how mathematically impossible it was for the bridge to fail.”

James’ expression went distant as he stared at his plate, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. “He had this thing he used to say. ‘That’s the thing about bridges, Son. You build them from materials with known stress ratings and known tension strengths. It’s just a numbers game. If you do your job, get the numbers right, and take your time, they’ll never surprise you. People are the ones who surprise you, which is why I avoid them whenever I can.’ When things with Katie went south, I foundmyself thinking about that a lot. How much simpler life is if you stick to predictable things. Known quantities…”

“But not all surprises are bad. Sometimes, people surprise you in good ways.”

James lifted his eyes to meet mine. He nodded in a way that made warm things flutter all around in my chest.

“So, um,” I said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, as if we had accidentally stumbled into another full-fledged date night. “You said you used to be close to your family. You’re not now?”

The glow of warmth from James vanished in an instant, replaced by pure ice. “My brother, Chase… He was the younger brother, and the golden child. He never lived up to their expectations, and they took my success almost as an insult, like I was rubbing in how wrong they were to think the world of him. And when my wedding imploded, I think they almost enjoyed it on some level. Everything had gone so well for me before that, and then Katie didn’t just cheat on me, she cheated with mybrother.A few months later, Chase got engaged to her.”

I choked on my sip of lemonade, leaning forward. “What?”

“Yeah,” James said with a twist of his lips. “Needless to say, I wasn’t too pleased. I had no feelings for Katie at that point. None at all. But I thought I was patching things up with him, and then he dropped that nugget. We had some heated discussions, and my parents ended up taking sides. They thought I should be happy for him and move on. They thought family was family, and I shouldn’t hold a grudge. Anyway, they were married two months before they got divorced. In a shocking turn of events, Katie was cheating on him.”

I put my palm over my mouth. “God. What’s wrong with that woman?”

“A lot,” he said. “Last I heard, my brother is still sleeping with her, but she’s married to someone else now.” He took a long drink of his soda. “Makes it hard to believe in happy endings.”

---