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Just smile, Grace!
I fell back on the practice I'd mastered by the time I was a teen. Politicians had nothing on me when it came to pretending everything was perfect. Just smile, Grace, you never know who's watching. Kill 'em with kindness, Grace. Smile, you'll attract more flies with honey than with vinegar. Like who in their right mind wanted to attract flies?
I wondered if the minute hand must have been auditioning for the hour hand position as the "watched" sensation never faded. About four sentences into the homily, I couldn't take it anymore. I discretely glanced across the front pew, the only one I could see without turning my head. My eyes skimmed over the bride's family who was hanging on to every word spoken.
I pivoted a teeny bit on my toes until I could see more of the pews. My gaze slid across the aisle and boom! Dark eyes set in one of the most handsome faces I'd ever seen stared back at me. Those eyes never wavered, not the least bit ashamed at having been caught. In fact, the right one winked at me while its partner-in-crime lips quirked up in a one-sided smile that was alarmingly sexy.
This man was no Alton, not even close. No, this man produced a funny little flurry inside me that zipped right past my stomach and didn't stop until it reached a more private place below.
Startled by both his audacity as well as my reaction to it, I fought to regain my focus. The tingles lingered, however. It was thrilling and nerve-wracking. Most eligible men I encountered fell into two categories—either there was no chemistry, or they didn't have the staying power once they met my dad. It was the pitfall of living life in a fishbowl. Hardly anyone was willing to jump in and swim with my sisters or me, but there was no shortage of people staring through the glass. Some watched, if not hoped, for one of us to screw up and sink. And since I'd already done so in a most spectacular way, they all held their breath, almost salivating, for it to happen again.
I was used to it, but it didn't mean I didn't resent it.
Now, most of my dating opportunities came from men who thought I'd be so desperate I'd be willing to accept their offer. Or they came from mothers or grandmothers who were certain I'd be grateful for the opportunity to date their precious progeny. It might sound shallow, but there was a reason they were still single—they were duds. Boring. No chemistry; not even a little flame that could be kindled over time.
It wasn’t a new experience; it had been going on since my sisters and I were teens and old enough to date. Shy, pimple-faced boys would ask us out, thinking we were too nice to say “no.” We called them "sympathy dates,” and at first, they were right. We didn’t want to hurt their feelings. But as we grew older, my sisters and I made up all kinds of plausible excuses to decline or break a date. The best and most reliable was anything about our menstrual cycle or asking if they had or were willing to get a Prince Albert piercing. We could always tell the ones who had to look up what it was before they gave us a horrified "no." It was a risk for us to say such things to them, but most were too embarrassed by the topics to ever tell anyone why we "just didn't work out."
This man, however, exuded an aura of confidence that made me wonder if he would not only jump into the fishbowl, but make a big splash when he did, washing away the smirks of the onlookers. Maybe he didn't know my past. He certainly didn't seem like a dud. If nothing else, maybe he'd act as a deterrent from the sympathy date offers that were sure to come at the reception. Best of all, there wouldn't be a way for Daddy to run interference without drawing unwanted attention to the situation.
Lost in my thoughts, I was surprised when I heard the words 'man and wife' spoken by the pastor. Startled into action, I handed Maggie her bouquet and straightened the train on her dress as she turned. She grinned at me before latching onto her new husband's arm.
I had to be the worst best friend on record. I needed to keep my focus on her and not the sex-on-a-stick a few steps away. Besides, anyone that hot, that confident, was probably looking for a quick hookup in a closet somewhere. And like Alton, I suspected he only heard what he wanted to hear, although, with his looks, I doubted he heard the word “no” very often. Experience had taught me you if you gave a guy like that an ounce of interest, he'd take a chunk of your heart and leave you cold in bed. It didn't make a difference.
It was better just to not get involved. Period. Ignore him and not give the smallest suggestion I was interested.
I hadn't taken two steps down the aisle on the arm of the best man before the dark-eyed gaze of the stranger pulled me in, the steel to his magnet. Damn, that smile was even sexier up close.
Only two more steps and you'll be past him!
Then he winked. Geez, I was a sucker for winks. There was something so sexy and flirty about them.
I smiled back.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What had I done?
Now he was going to think I was interested in handing out more than little bags of birdseed to throw on the happy couple later. Maybe my dad was right about my judgment of the opposite sex. Then again, he didn't think any man was good enough for his girls.
Fortunately, I didn't have long to linger on the mystery guest. The bridal party was whisked away to a holding room until the church sanctuary cleared so we could get all the required pictures to formally document the occasion.
Three quarters of an hour and one achy smile later, we arrived at the hotel where the reception was being held. I sat to the left of Maggie at the head table situated at the front of the elegantly decorated room. To my left was one of Derek's older brothers, Paul, who was also the Best Man. We spent the majority of our meal catching up on our lives. I knew most of Derek's family since he and Maggie had been an item for coming up on three years.
When Paul turned to talk to another bridesmaid on his other side, I was able to check out the guests. At the back corner were members of the BAG. They came to every wedding, funeral, or any other social event held at the church. They thought they were the spine that held the church together. I thought they were more like the arthritic joints that always groaned and offered resistance.
The rest of the guests were the standard fare you would find at weddings. The cheapskates had their plates loaded so they wouldn't have to eat for the next twelve hours. There were the desperate girls who'd stuffed themselves into dresses that were at least a size too small, hoping to entice some poor guy with their generous 'attributes.' Their voices were always a little louder and their laughs a little too shrill and calculated. And last, there were the average Joes who were the ones who enjoyed themselves the most, laughing and catching up with friends and family.
And then there was the sexy stranger. He was in a class of his own. I was surprised to see him at one of the tables set in the front for close relatives of the bride and groom, but he didn't appear to have brought a date. Members of Derek's family surrounded him, talking animatedly with hands flying everywhere. The older woman he was sitting next to during the service was deep in conversation with Derek's mom, Julie. He, however, sported a look of boredom as he played with the stem of his wine glass until he glanced up and caught me looking at him. The corners of his mouth lifted. I tried to hold his gaze with a nonchalance I wasn't feeling, but I sucked at being something other than who I was.
Maggie grabbed my arm, saving me from whatever awkward next move I might have made. Her face was aglow, and her eyes sparkled more than the diamond earrings Derek had given her for a wedding gift.
"Grace," she squealed. "I'm married!"
I returned her smile. "You are indeed, honey, and I couldn't be more excited for you." I gave her an impulsive hug, at least my fifth of the day.
"Next wedding will be yours," she whispered in my ear before pulling back. "He's out there, sweetie. I know he is." She knew all about my dating misadventures, but she was forever the optimist.
Shrugging, I tried for my best casual voice. "Do you know who the guy is sitting close to Julie?"
Maggie shifted her glance and froze. "Oh, Grace. When I said, 'out there,' I didn't mean literally!"
