Cleo emerged from the bathroom, makeup perfected. I clapped in approval. She responded with a short bow. “Should we pop open the champagne before we leave?”
Lola scurried to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of Dom Pérignon, an engagement gift from her boss.
She passed the bottle over to Cleo, the champagne-opening expert in the group. We shrieked as the cork popped, laughing at ourselves as Cleo filled our wineglasses with bubbly. Eventually we’d all own champagne flutes. But not today.
Cleo kicked things off. “A toast, to the last person any of us thought would get married first.”
“Hey!” Lola protested as Cleo gave her a knowing look. “I mean, no one is more surprised than me,” she conceded with a grin.
“We are so happy for you, Lo,” Cleo continued, her voice now serious.
“We are, and we love you more than anything in the whole world,” I said. “To Lola, and love.”
“And to friendship,” Lola added, lifting her glass. “To us.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hayes
Lola and Perrine had rented out the entire floor of Adelphi and Willoughby, a buzzed-about new restaurant in Brooklyn. Walking in, I made my way to the bar—all white marble lit up with votives—and asked for a double scotch on the rocks, something to calm my nerves.
When Perrine and Lola had asked me to give a toast at their engagement party, I had said yes immediately. It had taken three different drafts and some coaching from Eleanor, but I’d finally landed on something that felt personal. I just hoped I’d be able to get the words out of my mouth in front of all these people.
In front of Franny.
I tried to push the thought of her out of my mind as I walked toward the crowded room, even though I was checking out every face I passed to see if it was her. Not that I didn’t like thinking about her. I visited her in my mind almost every night, remembered how just the touch of her body had made me ache with need, her soft skin against my hands as they tried to touch every inch of her. I imagined what it would be like to go to sleep next to her on a regular old work night, to wake up with her the next day, going about our mundane morning routines, together.
But tonight was about Perrine and Lola, and their love. It was time to put on my game face. So I grabbed some sparkling water from a passed tray of drinks and brought it over to where Eleanor and Henry were chatting with some of Perrine’s doctor friends.
“Hey,” I said as they opened up their circle to include me. “I got this for you in case you were thirsty.”
“Will you look at this guy?” Eleanor said, taking the glass of water out of my hand with an adoring smile. “The best work husband in the world.”
She turned toward me as Henry entertained the group with a story about the time he broke his leg while skiing with Perrine, Eleanor, and me.
“You look nice,” she said, eyeing my outfit.
“Thanks,” I said, running my hands around the collar and adjusting it just so. “I actually bought it for tonight. You would be horrified to know how many suits I tried on trying to pick out the right one.”
“Oh, I can imagine,” she teased. “Trying to impress someone?”
“Yeah, I am,” I said with a nod. My suit was the darkest shade of forest green, and it had reminded me immediately of Franny’s eyes. I’d paired it with a white shirt and no tie. I’d thought way too much about it.
“I assumed so, but it’s nice hearing you admit it,” she said, and then raised her glass. “A toast to you, Hayes Montgomery. I hope you get the girl.”
Just as our glasses connected, I saw Eleanor’s eyes perk up at something over my shoulder.
“And now’s your chance,” she said, with a discreet tip of her chin. “Back and to your right.”
I turned around slowly, and there she was, only twenty feet away. She was standing next to Cleo, laughing at something someone was saying. I could only see her profile, but even from the side she was beautiful, a black silk dress hugging her in all the right places.
I turned back to Eleanor, who just tilted her head toward Franny with a firm “Go!” It was an order. But before I could even take a step toward her, a clinking of glasses sounded around the room.
Everyone turned to face the front of the bar, where Lola and Perrine stood, arms wrapped around each other in the most assured way, so confident of their love and their life together to come. I knew this meant it was time for my toast, and so I hustled toward them as the crowd erupted in cheers—the brides-to-be were kissing—and made it next to them right as the bartender leaned over to hand me a microphone.