Page 16 of Revenge Honeymoon

Why hadn’t they discussed this earlier? Why hadn’t the two of them talked about the possible questions people on a cruise would ask two newlyweds? What was the perfect story that would be easy for both of them to remember without messing it up?

“School,” Ruby said, casually sipping her wine. “We met at school. Friends since kindergarten.”

Max nodded and shifted his gaze from Ruby to Emily and then back again to Ruby. “Friends that developed into something more. Nice.”

For some reason, even though Max totally bought that story one-hundred percent without any more questions or a request for more details, Emily felt the need to, well, add more details. “Yes, Mrs. Jackson’s class. Southside Elementary. Roanoke. We both wore the same outfit. It was destiny.”

“Or the fact both our moms shopped at Target,” quipped Ruby. She set aside the empty dip plate and moved onto the massive shrimp cocktail. Half a dozen juicy pink shrimp covered the edge of a wide-rimmed dish that sat in a bowl of crushed ice.

“In middle school, the great tragedy occurred.” That mid-August day came back to Emily in a flash.

Ruby’s parents had decided to send their only child to a fancy all-girls’ Catholic school on the other side of town. They had better sports programs, apparently, and Ruby’s mother decided her daughter was going to be a star volleyball player. They’d played in the summer league, and the Catholic school was scouting for new talent. For middle school. At the YMCA gym. Emily didn’t even know that was a thing. But Ruby was tall and lean and perfect for their junior varsity team.

Stouter and more solid Emily? Also in the same summer league? Who had a power serve that had given one girl a broken nose? Not interested. Catholic school reject. At least that’s what her brother, Hunter, had told her when he heard the news.

“The great tragedy?” Max finished off his final slider.

“Oh, she means when my parents put me in Catholic school.” Ruby shrugged. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. We still hung out all the time.”

Wasn’t a big deal?

Emily had cried for two weeks. She’d had to navigate the horrible world of middle school without her closest friend in the whole wide world. It had sucked.

“It took me forever to get over it.” Emily’s shoulders slumped. Even years later, the memories dragged her down into a sad place. She had been twelve for God’s sake. Why did this bother her so much? To Ruby it seemed to be a blip. A nothing. A temporary setback. To Emily at the time, it had been life shattering and the beginning of ‘the change.’

“Well, glad to see that you two made it and ended up together. That’s what matters.” He raised his almost empty wine glass. “How about a toast to the bride and...bride?” His forehead wrinkled.

Ruby raised her glass. “How about to the brides?” She giggled.

Max was going to figure them out sooner or later, wasn’t he? Unless tonight was their only dinner with him. It had been a fluke of sorts. A surprise arrangement due to a mix up with the reservations. Tomorrow? Tomorrow they might end up with some lovey-dovey perfectly happy honeymooners, maybe a whole tableful of them. Not fair. No. No. No. If they had to pretend to be married, at the very least she should be rewarded with the beautiful Max across from her at the table.

“No!” Emily pushed back from her chair and stood.

The pianist stopped playingWaterfallsby TLC. The diners stopped eating. The servers stopped serving.

Crap.

An attentive server with a smile plastered on his face glided toward them from the embarrassingly quiet dining room. Even the pianist, paused with her fingers six inches above the keys, appeared scared to continue her playing.

Everyone thought she was a lunatic.

Max thought she was a lunatic

Her heart didn’t just sink, it continued to drift downward from her stomach to her yoga-pant covered thighs to her feet. Maybe even beneath her all the way to the ocean below.

“Miss?” the server asked. He had worry lines around his eyes, and his eyebrows raised to his hairline. “May I be of service?”

Ruby sat rigidly in her chair.

Her best and oldest friend didn’t even know how to handle such a bizarre outburst.

Max stood.

Emily hyperventilated and stared down at her hors d’oeuvres plate. How to answer him? How to make the diners forget about her and return to their meals?

Their table companion approached the server and, in a low voice, said something that only sounded like a murmur over the ringing in Emily’s ears.

The server nodded.

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