Page 20 of Made Better Together

“Got it.” Nope, no sign he has a clue how incredible they are.

Thankfully, our salad plates get placed in front of us then, and we all focus on eating.

Or the others do. I crane my neck, hoping to sneak a peek at Connor. Only when I find him sitting at the head table, he’s already looking at me. Our eyes meet, and he makes a small gesture with his hand.

I cock my head at him, confused, and he does it again. Is he turning something upside down?

He grins, clearly amused at my bewilderment, then touches the name card in front of him.

Oh…

I twist back to look at my plate setting and reach for my place card. Everyone’s absorbed in different conversations, so no one seems to notice what I’m doing.

I make like I’m putting it in my purse as a keepsake, which allows me to turn it over as I pull it into my lap.

And on the other side, it says…

7 p.m., wine cellar.

The rest of dinner crawls by, since I don’t know the bride and groom well, or the table company for that matter.

When Grace and Johnson enter only a few minutes after the name card revelation, we all stand and applaud. I’m like a lemming, just following my tablemates’ lead.

Landon gives a best man speech that keeps everyone laughing, vowing that, “I still owe Johnson a thorough dunking in the ocean for sneaking around with my little sister.”

At the end of the speech though, it’s tears all around. Including for Landon, when he shares, “Only my best friend is good enough for my wonderful sister Grace, and I’m so glad you two found each other.”

Tina’s passing out tissues, but I decline her offer. No tears for me—I’m distracted by thoughts of being alone with Connor.

What will we talk about? Not that we lack subjects to discuss, but there are so many ways this conversation could go.

Our server disrupts these thoughts by placing my dinner plate in front of me—salmon and risotto was my selection. It’s probably exquisite, but I can’t taste anything through my escalating nerves.

Then finally, it’s time. The staff clears the dishes, and the DJ announces he’ll start the dancing soon. Most importantly, Connor leaves the head table down a side door, and my phone says 6:58.

I consider excuses to get out of here long enough to meet him, before pretending to look at my phone again. “Dad, Tina, I just got a text from Bree and she’s having some kind of guy crisis, so I’m going to talk her off the ledge.”

At this point, they’re both relaxed after a glass of wine, and Nat is running around the back of the ballroom with other kids. They accept my lie without a question.

Now for the next challenge, I realize. I need to find this wine cellar.

I stroll through the hallways outside of the ballroom and finally find one that appears promising. It’s empty and seems the perfect place for storage.

The first door I open is just a closet. Shoot.

But there’s another one a few feet further in, and when I turn the knob, I can feel the rush of air from a larger space, the halogen lights illuminating bottles of wine as I slowly open the door.

Something else is visible too.

Connor, leaning against one of the shelves, his arms crossed, a small smile on his face. His jacket is off, and the sleeves of the white dress shirt he had on underneath are rolled up.

“Hello, Eden.”

“Hello, Connor.”

“Close the door.”

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