“Fiancée?” Ava said, “How come we’ve never heard of her?”

“As if I tell you about everyone I date, Ava.”

“I thought you didn’t date and preferred to buy your women.”

If Ava meant it as a jibe, Nico didn’t take it as such. In fact, no one around the table blanched at her words. He simply answered her. “Sometimes. Other times I prefer to get to know a person.”

Ava didn’t seem satisfied by his answer, but she said nothing further. Beal instead asked. “So, how did it happen? When and where did you two meet?”

Beal’s eyes were on me, and for a second I’m not sure how to lie convincingly, but Nico came to my rescue by going into the tale himself. Without stuttering, he tells them an elaborate lie about how he met me at one of his clubs. I am a hostess in his story and we bumped into each other at a Vegas show. He recognized me and asked me out. We dated for a year before he popped the question. That’s why he was asking about my dating habits and what I did in my spare time. So he could craft a convincing story. Everyone seemed content with his story and the table returned to previous conversations after that.

One thing about this group that was immediately apparent was how they didn’t strike me as what I would assume as the type of people a mob boss would hang around with. From the little conversation snippets I could gather, they were all college educated with corporate careers except for one, Luke. He’s pretty much a trust fund baby, according to Nico.

“You know, you could have given me a heads up, a prep or a note. Something along the lines of hey, ‘we’re going to a wedding and I’m going to tell everyone you’re my fiancée,’” I said to him.

“It just came to me,” Nico replied. “You can work with it, can’t you?” That’s a load of bullshit and he knew it.

“You thought of this rouse on the spot? Why? For what purpose?”

“I don’t get why you’re upset. It’s not like there’s much of a difference between a girlfriend and a fiancée. One is promised to get married, and the other isn’t.”

What? What! There were plenty of differences. One has to know the person they are getting married to, a girlfriend, no such need! “I can’t just become your fiancée without warning or preparation.” I tried not to speak too loudly to attract the attention of everyone else, especially Ava, who looked like she’s listening to our conversation.

As he opened his mouth to speak, the bride came over to our table, disrupting whatever he was about to say. She practically floated over to us, carrying her statuesque frame elegantly. Nico’s face changed in an instant. A look of yearning washed over him, followed by dark envy as he saw the groom following behind her. Oh. It all made sense. Nico’s in love with the bride. Suddenly I felt sorry for him. He wanted to appear aloof and above it all, but even I could tell he’s whipped. Subconsciously, I took his hand in mine.

“Maeve,” he said, standing up and making me do so as well. “You look amazing,” he said.

The groom came to stand beside her. They looked like a mismatched couple. Like a supermodel and a frog. Maeve had an icy beauty to her that’s both intimidating and alluring, while the groom was warm and immediately welcoming. He was unremarkable in the looks department and was a little shorter than his bride. He was the first to extend a greeting, but was soon distracted by a couple that came over to congratulate him and took him with them, leaving Maeve with us.

“Congratulations,” Nico said. I could tell how hard it was for him to say from the tone of his voice. It’s as if someone was holding a gun to his head. It’s not as if I need more reason to understand that this woman got him whipped, but this added more to my theory.

“Thank you,” Maeve replied. Her gaze landed on me as if she was recognizing me for the first time. “And this is your--”

“Fiancée. Freya.” he replied.

She looked a little taken aback, but quickly recovered and flashed a smile. “Nice to meet you.” Ice was dripping in her voice as she spoke. It made me wonder if what I was assuming to be Nico’s pathetic attempt to make this woman jealous was actually working.

“Congratulations,” I replied. “You look beautiful. Your wedding is beautiful.” I don’t know what else to say. Maeve flashed me another smile that didn’t reach her eyes. If only I could tell her I was not the competition, she thought I was.

An uncomfortable moment passed between us and everyone at the table looked riveted enough to wonder what was going to happen next. Then Maeve did the last thing I thought she would do.

“Would like to take the next dance with me,” she said to Nico. Nico’s grip on my waist loosened as he nodded slightly. Was I about to be left all alone standing here like a third wheel? Suddenly I could feel the looks from every one of Nico’s friends turn to pity, and suddenly I was feeling a little used.

“I feel like stretching my legs,” Luke said. “Would you mind dancing with me?” It took me a little more than a second to realize he was talking to me. I nodded and followed Luke to the dancefloor. He’s a little shorter than Nico, but not by much, and I had to look up at him as we dance. The music being played was slow to dance to without making one a fool out of oneself. My gaze wanders to Maeve and Nico as they move around the dancefloor. It looked like every eye in the room was trained on both of them. If Maeve and Nico dated, they probably did so for quite some time. Everyone seemed to know they were a thing. Maeve’s dad looked particularly murderous.

“Perfect couple, some might say.” I glanced back at my partner. I don’t need to ask to know who he’s referring to.

“They look good together,” I responded.

Luke scoffs. “When did you two start to date, truthfully speaking?”

I scan my brain to think of what Nico said. “A year ago.”

Luke glares at me with an eye that said he didn’t believe me. “He must have told you about her.”

“We promised each other not to discuss exes.”

“Oh sure. Many people have such stipulations. So you don’t know that he proposed to her, and she rejected him right before you two met?”