For the Love of Friends(77)

“Except that guy, who I think owns it.”

“Nah, he’s a narc.”

I laughed. “Oh God, we’re old.”

He gestured with his beer. “So I’m guessing your sister is the one in the veil.”

“Yup. That’s Amy.”

“And the guy eating candy off her neck? Not your future brother-in-law?”

“Nope. Total stranger. Super classy.”

“Definitely runs in the family.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “I missed you.” Between the shower, the bachelorette party, Caryn’s salon mess, and trying to keep my head above water at work, I hadn’t seen him in person since the night I got back from Mexico.

He leaned his head on mine. “I’m here now,” he said quietly. “This seems pretty under control.”

“Who’s this?” Amy was suddenly at our table, a drink in one hand, the other on her hip. “Lily, do you have a secret boyfriend?”

I picked my head up, annoyed, the moment gone. “No. This is Alex.”

“Amy,” she said, sticking out her hand. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you.”

Alex laughed. “I’m crushed. I’ve heard all about you.”

“Don’t believe a word Lily tells you. I’m delightful.”

“Funny, she told me you’re delightful. I guess that’s wrong.”

“She did not.”

“Did.”

Amy turned to me. “I like him. Where have you been hiding him? He’s cute too.”

“We’re just friends, Amy.”

“So, friend, what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

Amy raised her eyebrows at me. “Single?”

“Divorced.”

“Kids?”

“No.”

“And you’re not dating my sister because—?”

“I’m gay.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—”

“He’s not gay. We’re just friends.”

Amy made a face at me. “I need another drink,” she said, downing the rest of hers and handing me the empty glass. “Will you get me one?”

I glared at her, but got up to comply. Amy slid comfortably into my seat. “So, Alex,” she began. I made my way to the bar.

The crowd had begun to pick up. I had forgotten that the under-thirties didn’t even leave their houses until eleven and anything before midnight was early. It took much longer to get the bartender’s attention, so I ordered another drink for myself and another beer for Alex as well while I was there.

By the time I made it back to the table, Alex was smiling at my sister. “You’re welcome,” she said when I handed her the drink.

“Thank you is the traditional response.”

“I’ll let Alex tell you,” she said sweetly, giving me a wet kiss on the cheek. “Back to my party! It was nice to meet you!”

“Tell me what?”

He laughed. “Your sister invited me to her wedding. As your date.”

I blinked rapidly. “She did what now?” He shrugged. “My mother is going to have a field day with this one.”

“I told her my answer depended entirely on you.”

“Do you want to go?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I asked you first.”

He shrugged again. “Could be good practice for Tim and Megan’s. And it will keep your older relatives from asking why you’re still single.”

He had a point. “Okay,” I said, feeling a twinge of something other than dread about my sister’s wedding for the first time since it was announced.

“It’s a date,” he said, clinking his glass against mine.





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


When the evening devolved, it devolved quickly.

Ashlee came to find me, her hair disheveled and her face green. “Kayla, Taylor, and Fiona are all throwing up,” she said.

I shook my ponytail holder–covered wrist at Alex. “Duty calls.”

“Gross. I’ll sit this one out.”

“Keep your phone handy. I might need help getting Ubers.”

“Will do.”

I followed Ashlee and handed her a ponytail holder just in time for her to vomit into the sink. I did not miss this phase of young adulthood.

Madison seemed to be running the show in the bathroom, switching from stall to stall, holding girls’ hair. “Here,” I said, handing her three ponytail holders.

She looked at me gratefully, a slight sheen of sweat shining on her forehead, and then began tying up a girl’s hair for her.

Taylor flushed the toilet and exited the stall. “I feel better,” she announced. “I’m going to get another drink.”

“Nope,” I told her cheerfully, steering her toward the wall, away from the door. “You’re done.”

Ashlee seemed much more composed after she threw up, and I suspected her nausea was more from the smell of vomit in the bathroom than from too much alcohol.

I realized Amy was nowhere to be found. “Has anyone seen my sister?” Ashlee and Madison exchanged a look. “What?”