“Call it what you want.” Margot shrugged. “I’m strongly considering adopting a cat.”
Elle whipped out her phone, eyes flitting between the screen and the building up ahead. “And I think you should strongly consider getting a human roommate. You know, someone you can actually talk to.”
Margot opened her mouth.
“Someone who can actually talk back.” Elle nibbled on her bottom lip, footsteps slowing to a stop in front of the entrance to the venue. “I know you’re a little gun-shy after your last roommate.”
More like last string of roommates.
Margot snorted at Elle’s tact. “I’m not gun-shy. I’m being selective, and for good reason. I’ve already put feelers out, Elle. I’ve got my ear to the ground. I know I need a new roommate.” She huffed. “Preferably one who doesn’t have a habit of taking Ambien, sleepwalking into my closet, and popping a squat over my shoes at three in the morning.”
Elle cringed.
That wasn’t even taking into consideration the roommate who’d stolen Margot’s credit card or the one who’d owned an ant farm. An ant farm Margot had known nothing about until she’d woken up to the floor moving on one memorable Sunday morning.
Margot’s recent luck with roommates wasn’t just bad, it was abysmal.
Elle stared, eyes wide and full of sympathy, and it made Margot’s skin itch. The perks and pitfalls of having a best friend who knew her so well that she could hear what Margot wasn’t saying.
“Look, can we just . . . put a pin in it and circle back around?” Margot flipped her wrist over, checking the time on her Fitbit. Five ’til. Now wasn’t the time or the place for Margot to throw herself a pity party. “It’s almost six.”
Elle stole another peek at her phone and smiled. “Darcy texted. They’re already inside.”
Stepping through the door, Elle led the way down a winding hall lined with doors on each side, the sound of Brendon’s boisterous laugh growing louder as they approached. Margot ducked her head inside an open door and cringed at the decor. Between the heart-shaped, glitter-filled balloons floating aimlessly along the perimeter of the room and the pink confetti littering the floor, it looked like Cupid had jizzed all over the reception space.
At the end of the hall, Elle drew to an abrupt stop and gasped. “Wow.”
Margot hurried to catch up before following Elle’s gaze up to the ceiling. “Holy shit.”
The ceiling of the ballroom was stunning, painted in shades of lilac and lavender, bleeding down into periwinkle and pink, all the softest shades of dusk, when twilight descended into night and the stars came out to play. Little pinpricks of silver and champagne dotted the ceiling, and the glow of the chandeliers made everything ethereal and dreamy. Perfect for Brendon and Annie.
Across the room, Brendon beamed. “It’s great, isn’t it?”
Tucked into his side, Annie smiled up at him. “I like what I see.”
Elle greeted Darcy with a quick kiss before lacing their fingers together. “It’s like something straight out of a fairy tale. If you guys don’t get married here, I will.”
Darcy stared at Elle as if she were the source of all the light in the room.
A bittersweet pang struck Margot in the chest, stealing her breath.
She didn’t always feel like a fifth wheel—her friends were good about keeping the PDA to a minimum, and even then, a little PDA didn’t bother her—but it was happening more often lately.
A wedding was a party, marriage a piece of paper and permission to file your taxes jointly; Brendon and Annie, Darcy and Elle, they were already coupled up, wholly committed, and madly in love. It was silly to let an event that was, more than anything, symbolic mess with her head, but Margot couldn’t help but feel like her friends were all forming a club and she wasn’t invited.
Not unless she brought a plus-one.
“Elle’s right,” Margot said, trying to echo her enthusiasm. “I think this place might be it.”
Brendon laughed. “You’re just saying that so you don’t have to tour another venue.”
Is that what he thought? Jesus. “I know I’m not always sunshine and rainbows, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
Of course she cared. Flowers and first-dance songs weren’t her favorite topics, but Brendon and Annie cared about it all, so she cared about it. She was the Best Woman. Caring about Brendon was pretty much what the role dictated. But even if she weren’t the Best Woman, she’d have still cared because he was her friend. He was stuck with her.