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"I don’t understand. What do you mean?"
"When you said—" She stopped and waited until he'd closed the door behind them. "Look, you're team Izzy, you hear me?"
"Isabel—”
“It’s just Izzy. Now, how are we going to turn this around on Michael again?"
"Ah,” he said softly. “Isabel, it's no prank."
Everett made the statement and crossed his arms over his broad chest as he stared down at her. Izzy had never felt short at five six, but with him towering a solid ten inches above her, she felt small and feminine and more than a little angry that she couldn't take her frustration out on him by kicking him in the shins like she wanted. "Ha ha.Enough. We are not married. Michael put you up to this after we pranked him with those pics, so let's hurry up and think of a way we can turn this around. I'm not going down without a fight."
Everett looked around the porch before taking a step closer.
"Isabel, I am not pranking you. We are legally married."
Silence settled between them where they stood on the far side of the porch. A car rolled slowly down the driveway, the woman behind the wheel one of Amelia's work friends.
Izzy managed a smile and a small wave despite the fist once more squeezing her chest. "That's not funny," she said through her gritted teeth.
"I'm not trying to be."
A second passed. Then several more. The look on his face… "What?”
Izzy watched as Everett placed one hand on his hip and lifted the other to rub over his face and through his hair. He seemed to consider his words carefully, which made her even more nervous. Either he was a very good actor or Everett meant what he said.
Please, God, let him be an actor.
"Apparently we entered the wrong chapel."
No, no, no… She shook her head repeatedly, unable to accept his words. "No," she said, uncomfortable with the sudden turn this morning after talk had taken. "Look, Everett, I don't know what this is, but enough already. Joke’s over.”
He leaned a broad shoulder against the side of the house and crossed his arms over his chest. And heaven help her, but her eyes nearly bugged out of her head at the sight of his muscles straining the confines of his shirt. He might be a businessman but he stayed in shape.
“Isabel…”
Everett’s voice lowered to a level she recognized. It was one her father had sometimes used with her growing up when he wanted her to focus on his words and really listen because whatever he said was important.
“No. No, you’re… Look, it was fun but we both know exactly what that night was. I-I mean, you're in New York and I'm here and…I don'tdothat kind of thing so if you think I do and that you can come here for another round… I was just… Itwon'thappen again, okay? Not that you’ve said you want to, but I'm saying it won't so...there."
She watched as his frown deepened before he pulled a folded stack of papers from his rear pocket and held them out to her.
She eyed them like a snake but reluctantly accepted them, giving him another glare while unfolding the pages, recognizing them instantly. "Okay, so? Fake wedding, fake marriage certificate. We also had fake flowers and a fake dress and tux. It was part of the package from thefakechapel that took thefakepictures we sent Michael."
"Except that it wasn't fake," he murmured. "I'm just as surprised as you, Isabel. However, it doesn't change the truth. After I returned to New York, my assistant found the paperwork in my briefcase and immediately researched the chapel. The one we'd intended to go to was located next door to this one," he said, tapping the top of the papers she held. "We entered the wrong one."
"No."
"Yes."
"Nooo,"she said, horror sinking into her bones like a ship into the Atlantic. "You can't be… You’reserious?"
"Would you like to call them to confirm?" he asked, digging into another pocket to retrieve his cell phone and holding it out to her.
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hand to her chest to rub hard, the papers crumpled in her fist.
Inhale one.
Exhale two.
