Page 44 of Take Me to the Wedding

I can’t call myself a french fry connoisseur, but I didn’t see the issue. Maybe there were a few slightly more brownish ones on the top. I reached over and grabbed them and put them into my mouth. “Problem solved,” I said with a smile, trying my best to repair the cringe factor.

Lilly gave me the eye. And her color was up, both indicators that she was angry. But I didn’t regret trying to defuse things. I was coming to suspect that Lilly routinely expected James Beard-rated food.

“Caleb, I was making a point,” she huffed.

More cringe. Before I could answer, Quinn pulled the plate over, examined the fries, and snagged one. “Did you say you’re a florist?” he asked Lilly as he calmly chewed his fry. I was so relieved he’d said something that I got over the fact that he was talking and eating at the same time.

“Yes,” Lilly said.

“So, customer service.” He sat back and examined her.

A frown creased her pretty brow. “What’s your point?”

“That server is just a teenager trying to earn a buck. Have some compassion, lady.”

She immediately stood up, looking like she wanted to leave, like, yesterday. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you should get what you pay for.”

“I’m going to grab us another pitcher,” Sam said cheerily, getting up from the table and effectively cutting off the discussion. “Unless anyone wants something else?” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she, Quinn, and I were going to be splitting that whole pitcher among ourselves, because at this point our troops were dropping like flies.

After everyone left, Quinn sat back and smiled. “She’s got it all,” he said to me because, well, there was no one else.

I felt my brows shoot up with surprise. “Sam or Lilly?”

Quinn smiled. “I was a waiter all through college and med school. Being chewed out for food issues that aren’t really issues is abominable.”

I could hear my mom’s take on this now. “Anyone who is nasty to anyone in the service industry is not a good life partner.”

Ha. But I had to say, it was kind of true, in an obnoxious way.

“So how long have you and Sam been friends?” Quinn asked.

And… I was back to disliking him, just like that.

My gaze wandered over to where Sam was in line at the bar. She was chatting with an older woman dressed in a red-and-white checked skirt. Suddenly she burst into laughter.

Part of me wanted to get up and join her conversation instead of listening to Quinn pry me with unashamed questions. Although for a few minutes, I’d found a new respect for him for calling Lilly out.

“Sam’s pretty and smart and funny. She’s not seeing anyone, is she?”

“She’s not interested in dating,” I said before I could think. “Bad breakup.” I let that settle and hoped that Sam would forgive me. “And she’s dancing the next round with me. Sorry, buddy.” Maybe that sounded a little harsh. But somehow it just flew right out of my mouth.

Sam was going to either kill me or thank me, I wasn’t sure which.

Quinn leaned forward. “Really? How bad?”

I leaned forward. “Oh my God. Really bad.”

“Me too. I just got dumped after six years. Sixyears.I bought the ring too. She kept it and won’t give it back.”

He looked torn up. “Sorry. That’s harsh.”

Quinn rubbed his forehead. “It’s been six months. I decided I have to get back in the dating pool. It’s the only way forward.”

“That’s a positive attitude.”

“Sam’s tall and she’s got that shiny black hair and those big brown eyes… totally different from my ex.”

That statement was so loaded that I didn’t want to touch it with a ten-foot pole. I pretended to check my watch. “Hey, I’m going to help Sam. Can I get you anything?”

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