Page 30 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mary’s smile told him he could get away with the playful lie. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m positive I don’t have her number anymore.”

“Oh.” She tugged her hand from his.

“What’s wrong?”

She fiddled with her shirt cuff. “I was having such a good time I forgot what you’re like.”

He put a hand over hers to still her fingers. “What am I like?”

She fixed her gaze on her hands. “You, um, back in high school, you dated. A lot.”

For one dizzying, heart-stopping moment, he thought she was finally going to ask him why he’d stood her up at prom. Heat washed over him and prickled in his cheeks. What would she think of him if she knew his secret? She’d walk out of his life and never return. He couldn’t risk it. Especially not now, with the Richardson wedding and the Paradise on the line. As much as he hated it, he summoned up the old lie he’d prepared but never had to tell her.

Miraculously, Mary didn’t go there. She kept at his dating history like it was relevant. “You do the same thing now. But now it’s flashier. More dramatic. Like you’re trying to prove something. You’re not trying to prove anything to me, are you? I know you called me your date, but we’re friends, right?” She finally looked him in the eye, the type of vulnerability Alex could never show shining right there on her face for anyone to see.

“Of course we are, sweetheart.”Sweetheart?Where had that come from?

Mary stomped her foot. “You don’t have to turn on all that bullshit for me, you know. I’m your friend. Not one of the women youdancewith.”

“But you did dance with me.” Alex stepped closer until the front of his suit jacket brushed hers. He let his gaze fall on her red lips. They beckoned to him, soft and plump. He didn’t know if it was the neon or the music or the way his hands had mapped the shape of her while they danced, but suddenly, he wanted to have her lipstick smudged across his lips for Violette, the birthday party, and all the tourists to see. “Friends can dance.”

She blinked her eyes wide for a moment. Then she planted her hand on his chest and shoved him back a step. Her lips twitched with a smile that didn’t make it to her brown eyes. “Right. Friends. Call me up the next time you need a platonic dance partner.”

Platonic was the farthest thing from his mind right now, and he opened his mouth to say it, but the club’s door opened, and the birthday partiers spilled onto the sidewalk, their voices still loud from talking over the music.

“Mary! Alex!” one of them shouted. “We’re ready to sit while someone else dances. Take us to the strip club.” The women all hooted.

With a wicked grin, Mary handed the key fob to Alex and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

A couple of hours later, Alex pulled the limousine into the porte-cochère of the birthday ladies’ hotel and stepped out to open the door. Mary beat him to it, and by the time he’d rounded the long hood, she was already helping the ladies heave themselves from the low vehicle.

“Have a good night,” she said. “Thanks for using Forza Elite Motors.”

“Thanks, Mary. Thanks, Alex,” the birthday woman said.

His smile froze as his phone buzzed in his breast pocket in the specific rhythm he’d assigned to his mother’s care facility. Ice careened through his veins.

Turning his back and stepping to the other side of the car, he reached for his phone. “Hello?”

“Mr. Villa, I’m sorry to call so late, but she’s gotten pretty wound up. She’s asking for you.”

He tried to suck in one of those calming, blue breaths, but it was no use. His lungs could only take in fast sips of air. He’d seen her two days ago, on Sunday. What could have happened?

“It’s no problem,” he said. “I want you to call me when she needs me, no matter the hour. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you. We’ll see you soon.”

Mary was all alone, leaning against the limo, when he turned back toward her. He hated to end the evening like this, but he had to get to his mother.

“I’m sorry. I have to go. There’s a situation I have to deal with.”

“Oh.” Her lips turned down. “I guess a hotel runs twenty-four-seven.”

“It does, but—” He stopped. Telling her about his mother would open parts of himself he’d rather conceal. Then his gaze fell on the limo. His car was parked in the Forzas’ lot. “I’ll call a rideshare.”

“That’s silly. I’ll drop you at the hotel. It’s just down the street. If you’ll give me your keys, Rafe and I’ll drop your car at La Villa in the morning.”

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