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At the lavish party, Rory found a quiet corner to sit in. Her feet ached in the tall heels and she drank more champagne than she should have. As she watched her sister and her new husband in the middle of their first dance, she looked at their glowing faces and wondered if they were truly happy or whether this was all part of the show.
Her parents seemed the happiest they had ever been. Is marriage the road to eternal happiness? She hadn’t thought about her own wedding since she was a teen, but in that moment Rory wondered if there was a Prince Charming for her too somewhere.
Jeez. What’s wrong with me? Why am I thinking of love and romance? Rory knew that in her case, it would not be a grand wedding like this or a Disney love story like Tara’s. For her that kind of thing was not genuine. This tradition of inviting hundreds of people and spending tons of money to “celebrate love” was a facade. She’d rather get married in a small ceremony in her grandmother’s house.
But first I need a groom to get married, she smiled to herself. If there was a Mr. Right for her, she was going to wait for him. She wasn’t going to rush into anything and she wouldn’t let other people’s opinions mess with her head. Rory had been fooled by Arsen, but there was no chance in hell that she was going to make the same mistake again.
A random thought of Arsen appeared in her head. His voice, his touch, that smile. Goddammit, that smile. Damn, this champagne is making me think stupid things. Lizzy seemed confident that Arsen wasn’t like those other celebrities, but she was too naive. Arsen would marry Tanya Cox. They would have great celebrity babies and be a famous couple like Brad and Angelina.
What a fool I was to think that Arsen Ford would give a damn about me. Rory almost blamed herself as much as she blamed Arsen. Regret simmered inside her. She could not deny that Arsen had ignited something deep in her, something much more important than a sensation of desire. But she also knew that she would get over him soon enough. Or will I?
“You’re Rory, right?” A man’s voice startled her out of her thoughts.
“Yes. And you are?” She did not recognize the man.
“Tim Carroll. Mr. Carroll’s son. We’ve met a couple of times before, I think.”
“Yes. I believe so. Hi,” Rory replied, cursing her mother in her head.
“Your mother sent me to look around for you. She tells me that you have a house up in Montcove.”
“Yes I do,” Rory replied.
“Incredible. I hear it is quite the place to get some sun and sand. It was number three on Getaway Magazine’s top ten places for summer vacations. That must be something, huh?”
Rory noticed his good-boy haircut, his clean-shaven face, an
d the expensive suit he was wearing. His disarming smile, the black glasses he wore, and his timid gestures spoke of a home life. Mother was right—this guy looks like classic husband material.
“If it didn’t rain there every other day we’d probably see a lot of sun and hit the beach,” she replied nonchalantly, and for some reason it made him laugh. It wasn’t that funny.
“Well, in NYC, we don’t get much of anything really, except traffic and a lot of fast-talking people.”
“Big cities are not my thing,” she said dismissively.
“Oh yeah, me neither.”
“So you don’t like living in New York?”
“Oh yes, I do, it’s pretty nice,” he said.
He’s just agreeing with everything I’m saying. Rory thought. Perfect trait for a future husband.
“What do you do in Montcove, Rory?”
“I run a bookshop.”
“Wow! That’s so charming. Must be a lot of fun.”
“Not really. Not many people read books nowadays. What do you do, Tim?” She changed the topic as she picked up another glass of champagne from a passing tray. She thought Tim seemed like a nice enough guy, but he was awfully boring. Well, boring guys make the best husbands. No surprises, no drama, and no worries.
“I work in garbage disposal,” he said, and Rory almost spit out the champagne that was in her mouth, thinking of another similar conversation.
“I mean, I’m not a garbage man, but I work with a company that designs garbage trucks and provides innovative solutions for garbage disposal.” He was clearly rather proud of his position.
She was instantly transported her back to that afternoon in Martha’s bakery where Arsen Ford had pretended to be a garbage man. Instantly, the movie of that day started playing in her head, almost bringing a longing smile to her face. What a beautiful afternoon that was. Rory quickly reminded herself to stop thinking about Arsen and focused on Tim instead. Arsen was a mirage. Tim was real and he seemed like a nice guy too.
