Page 66 of Love is a Game

Vivian bursts out laughing.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me!” she says, in response to my recollections of last night out with Misha. “I’ve seen the transformation firsthand. She starts the night perfectly put together, total class. But add tequila, and boom—Patrón Princess takes over. Suddenly, she’s the loudest person in the room.”

“Louddoesn’t really do her justice,” I cringe.

“True.” Vivian agrees. “I’ve heard her out-shout a DJ, a live band, and, once, an entire New Orleans brass section.”

Tuck coughs beside me, mumbling, “But I wanna betshedidn’t end the night halfway up an oak tree.”

I swiftly elbow his ribs and turn back to Vivian. She’s refreshingly down-to-earth for a born-and-bred LA girl. It’s clear Brady has finally met his match.

Meanwhile, I have no idea what’s going on between him and Tuck. They clammed up faster than a cartel informant in a police raid when I interrupted their BBQ-side powwow.

No matter. I’ll find out soon enough…When I have my way with Tuck.

Though at this rate, I might need a breather from his constant attentiveness. Pulling out my chair like a five-star restaurant waiter. Topping up my mineral water. Now he’s passing me the beetroot salad like some kind of doting maître d’.

“Thanks?” I raise an eyebrow, considering my plate is already one forkful away from overflowing.

Just the usual spread at Nora and Harvey’s, of course—tons of incredible food and wine, good music, great company.

I pass the salad on to Molly’s mother, Violet, who rushed in just seconds ago, full of apologies and laden with a bottle of wine and a container with “a special treat.”

She flashes me a smile. “Make sure you leave room for dessert. Our pastry chef at Monarch Mansion is amazing. Her peanut butter parfait with chocolate, roasted peanuts and salted caramel is to die for!” She winks.

My eyes widen. “That sounds dangerously good,” I agree. “And—you’re the events manager there? The ‘wedding wizard’ Mia raves about?”

She gives a tight smile, fixing me with gray eyes. “Well, I certainly hope to earn that title! And you are the incredible New York designer, Penelope Miller. I loved your store in the West Village. I stopped by all the time when I had my own business in the city. But after moving here, I don’t get to visit much.”

I blink, caught off guard. “That’s so nice! How long ago did you move to Blue Mountain Lake?”

What Ireallywant to ask is: “Why the hell would you leave the city for here?”But that seems a little extreme, given the contingent of steadfast locals at the table.

“Let’s see…it must be over a year now, huh, Molly?”

“Year and a half,” Molly confirms. “The first year was rough, but it’s way better now.”

Violet gives a wry smile. “They say moving’s up there with divorce and public speaking. And yep, I can confirm it’s no joke. But totally worth it. Way fewer sirens, way more treehouses. Molly’s doing great, and I haven’t yelled at a cab in months.”

“Absolutely.” Vivian chimes in. “I mean, LA iswaymore laid-back than New York, but the lifestyle here feels…more authentic, I guess. Plus, the people—that’s what really makes it feel like home. Right, Finn?”

Finn nods through a massive mouthful of steak and potatoes, then adds a thumbs-up for good measure.

The conversation drifts on, and Violet leans in with a conspiratorial smile.

“Mia’s being so tight-lipped about the wedding dress! Ibeggedfor details, but she won’t budge. I get it—top secret and all. I bet it’s going to beincredible.”

I force a smile.

“Can you believe it’s only weeks away?” She exhales. “At this point, I dream in logistics—weather reports, seating arrangements, every possible disaster unfolding in my sleep. But your part will be done well ahead of time, so you can relax.”

I wrestle my face into something hopefully resembling a calm composure. “Oh, yeah. Totally.”

But my gut isn’t just digesting perfectly cooked prime steak. It’s gurgling with pure anxiety.Mia’s weddingdress.Shit. This dress can’t rank as something just acceptable. There areexpectationsI have to live up to. Somehow.

With Mom’s death, my life is upended. Everything feels like a mess. I keep telling myself it’ll all come together. Inspiration will strike, that I’ll elevate the dress into something worthy of Mia Madson’s movie-star status. That I won’t let her down. That I won’t embarrass myself by failing the brief.

The brief.That’shalf the problem, now that I think about it.

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