Page 8 of Jilted

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, I probably won’t mention the rude groomsman in my article. I tend to focus on the bride and groom. Or at least on the details of the wedding like the flowers, venue, and dresses.”

He paused. “You’re going to write about the dresses?”

I laughed. “You’re right. On second thought, maybe the rude groomsman would be better.”

“What do you normally drink, when you’re not working?”

“Tequila.”

“Have you ever tried a siesta?”

“Two parts tequila, half part each Campari, grapefruit juice, lime, and simple syrup.”

He nodded. “Is it your go-to or something?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m more of a tequila-soda drinker than a sweet-drink girl. I prefer my sugar in the form of cupcakes or cookies. But my family owns a bar. I worked there all through high school and college, and somehow I’m still there a few days a week.”

Wilder nodded. He turned to the bartender and ordered a gin and tonic and a tequila soda.

I took it when he passed the glass to me. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“I know.”

“So why is it in my hand then?”

“I decided you’re done with work for today.”

“Is that right?Youdecided?”

He sipped his drink. “Yep.”

“And what gives you that right? To decide anything for me?”

“I think you deserve it after being bullied into wearing a dress you didn’t want to wear and tolerating me as a partner.”

“How do you know Piper bullied me?”

“She does it to everyone. How do you think she got my poor buddy Aiden to the altar?”

“Why does your friend let her bully him?”

Wilder shrugged. “Hell if I know. I guess he’s into that sort of thing—a woman who bosses him around all the time.”

“And you’re not?”

His eyes caught with mine, and the corners of his lips twistedup. “I’m okay with a bossy woman. But there are definitely times I prefer to do the bossing.”

I think he might’ve been right about that hole in my head, because his tone made my body feel a little flushed. There was no doubt what he’d been referring to, at least not in my dirty mind. Needing to cool off, I sucked back some of my drink—a little too much since I’d forgotten he’d ordered me tequila. The mix was more tequila than soda, too. A few more sips and it reactivated the buzz I’d caught earlier.

“So what made you move to London?” I asked.

“My father’s from here, but my mother’s originally from Cambridge. They’re divorced. She got sick when I was in my last year of college, and she moved back to be near her family in England. I have a half brother there, so after she passed away, I took a job in London to be closer to him. Been there ever since.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded and looked away. “Tell me about this job of yours that requires you to dress up in hideous gowns and tolerate someone like Piper.”

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