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“Go away. I’m busy.”
He stared at my half-empty bottle of milk. “Yes, I see. I would be stressed out, too, if I were hosting a wedding on Christmas Eve.”
I froze, doing my best not to react. He was looking for the reaction. Drake had told Charlotte and me that most of the time they were just guessing things, hoping they’d get something right. So if I pretended to be confused, that might do the trick. “Huh?” I responded.
“Don’t play stupid. I know.”
“You know what?” I challenged him.
He stepped closer, giving me a whiff of his cheap cologne that reeked of isopropyl alcohol. “Myfriendjust happens to know Hattie Bowman.”
“Who?” I pretended like I didn’t know that was the florist Drake and Charlotte had hired for their nuptials. She really is spectacular. She was incorporating pinecones into Charlotte’s bouquet to go along with the enchanted winter wonderland theme. The flowers and Hattie were arriving via private plane early on Christmas Eve. Or that was the plan. Had she blabbed? Drake was going to have her head on a platter if she had. Meanwhile, I was about ready to vomit the doughnut and chocolate milk.
“You think you’re good at this game, but I’m better.” He sneered.
“Are you sure?” I said, sounding even more cocky than him.
“Very.”
“Prove it.” I hoped I was calling his bluff.
His beady eyes widened, but he wasn’t deterred. “Oh, Izzy, we know very well the only wedding Hattie would be involved in at your little inn would be Drake and Charlotte’s.”
“How do you know that?” I was playing it cool on the outside, but my insides were doing belly flops.
He laughed. “You just played your hand there. You know who Hattie is.”
Dang it. Think, Izzy, think.“Of course, I know her. She’s doing my wedding.” My mouth was way ahead of my brain.Why did I say that?
Dave’s mouth fell open.
So maybe I did the right thing. You know, except it was a total lie and I repelled men. Well, I had to go with it for now. Charlotte so owed me. We are talking tropical vacation kind of owed me. “That’s right, Dave. There will be a wedding come Christmas Eve. Mine. Your gift to me can be getting out of my way. Goodbye.”
“Not so fast there.” He came out of his stupor. “Who are you marrying?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”
“You do realize marriage licenses are public record.” The dirtbag was calling my bluff.
If hate were a continent, my hate for him would be the size of Asia. “Have fun looking it up.” My voice, unfortunately, was a little shaky.
That lit a fire under the scumbag. “We both know you’re lying, so cough up the details about your sister’s wedding and there might be a little something in it for you.”
If only the fire in my eyes could disintegrate the disgusting man. I squeezed my bottle of chocolate milk. “You want details, fine. My sister is getting married on Valentine’s Day, just like they announced,” I said the lie with conviction. Why should the world know any different? It was none of anyone’s business. “I’m getting married on Christmas Eve.” I swallowed hard. That fib was not so easy to say. Probably because I wished it were true. Or at least the part where there was a man out there who loved me, and whom I loved back.
Dave cocked his head, a question in his eye. “You’re not wearing an engagement ring.”
“So? We haven’t had a chance to pick one out yet.” Yeah, that sounded like a good excuse. Maybe?
“Who’s the groom?” The man was like a barracuda.
My mind went completely blank. As it should have, seeing as there was no groom.Think of a name, Izzy. Any name will do. You can figure out the rest of the scam later. Just say a freaking name.“Patrick Abbott,” I blurted—loudly, I might add.No, not that name, you idiot.
Dave’s eyes widened, but not as wide as mine when I saw a shocked Patrick standing at the end of the aisle, gaping at me with his jaw on the floor. Where did he come from? How much did he hear? A better question was, how much did a ticket to Antarctica run? Because that’s where I was headed.
I dropped the basket, doughnuts, and chocolate milk, which splashed everywhere, but mostly on the dirtbag, who didn’t move an inch. He just stood there blinking at me while the chocolate milk pooled at my feet.
“Patrick,” I said as if it were a breath.
