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40
ANNIE
Brené, my queen, what would you do if you were me? Telepathically deliver me your wisdom, oh wise one, I am begging you…
I offer up my silent plea as I shovel my dessert in my mouth to avoid talking. Boy, oh boy, am I in a picklier pickle than these weird pickled watermelon radishes on top of my otherwise perfectly good piece of chocolate cake.
I’ll never understand fancy food. At the end of the day, I’m still my mother’s daughter.
Despite the pickles on the dessert, this rehearsal dinner is beautiful—elegant, classy, intimate and just about perfect for Mindy and Luke. I’m so grateful to be here to celebrate the happy couple, and be with Liam in this moment.
But following the text message I got when I was making my way down here—the one that almost sent me tumbling down the staircase like a coffee-colored bowling ball—I also wanted to make my excuses, hop on the first plane to Boston, and personally deliver Justin a swift kick to the gonads. Or break into his apartment to put Nair in his shampoo.
That’d show him. The man was always so hung up about his hairline.
My blood continues to simmer as I glance at my phone on my lap. I’m not sure whether to be relieved or anxious about the fact that he hasn’t texted again.
I take a gulp of my Prosecco to wash down my cake, full of nervous energy from having to sit through a three-course meal—a delicious one that I would’ve fully enjoyed had the nightmare ex not decided to make an appropriately nightmarish appearance.
Suddenly, I can’t stand it anymore.
“Excuse me,” I say to Liam, who’s deep in conversation with one of Luke’s friends. “Need to find the bathroom.”
Tastefully chosen words as usual, Annie.
Liam looks at me with a smirk. “Don’t hide in there too long.”
Okay, so it might’ve been a lapse in judgment to admit to him recently that I hid in the bathroom on my first morning at SITL.
I pull a face at him, then practically sprint to the ladies, where I lock myself in a cubicle and check my phone.
Do Not Text Ever:Looks like your new boyfriend is my competition. May the best man win.
I read the message over and over, trying to work out Justin’s angle. This text might seem innocuous enough, but I know how Justin operates. It was shocking enough to find out earlier that SITL were up against Financify for the Wiseman funding. But then, to find out that Justin himself was leading the charge in Financify’s corner?
Horrifying.
There’s something fishy about this. I don’t trust it. Don’t trust him.
But this is Luke and Mindy’s weekend, and like I told Liam earlier, now is not the best time to talk about it. If we did, we’d only be speculating. I don’t know what Justin is up to or what he wants, but he’s clearly trying to cause trouble, and creating a scene by making a big deal out of what might just be a jealous, meaningless jab is not going to help anyone.
Besides, maybe I’m freaking out over nothing. Justin has a wife now, and a child on the way. Maybe he’s just turned over a new leaf and this is his twisted way of showing it.
I don’t know what his motivation is. But I do know that the only thing I can do right now is be the bigger person. And to do that, I need to stop hiding in bathrooms, get back out there, and be at the side of the man who brought me.
The only man I care to think about tonight.
The only man I care to think about in general.
I lock my phone and drop it back in my purse.Bye, Justin.You can’t get to me.
I have more important things to think about.
Like Liam Freaking Donovan
AKA, definitely the better man.
With that thought, I stride out of the bathroom with my head held high.
