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“One glass of champagne.” I drop a tip into the tip jar as the bartender hands me the chilled glass of bubbly. “See that young lady over there?” I point to Cora. “That’s the bride to be. Her glass should never be empty, got it?”

“Yes sir, we’ll take care of it.”

“Good. I’ll take this one over myself.” I give the bartender another generous tip, and then walk over to Cora. Yet another relative has approached the poor girl and is drooling over the engagement ring, oblivious to Cora’s miserable state.

“How wealthy are the Harrisons? Because I mean, surely you know how much the ring worth. Aren’t you going to get it insured? You must know its value in order to purchase insurance,” an older woman presses. “So, how much?”

Cora just looks distressed.

“More than money can buy,” I intervene and hand the curvy girl the fresh glass of champagne. “It looked like you could use a refill.” She smiles at me gratefully. “Ma’am,” I smile as I turn to the annoying relative, “I need a minute with my future daughter-in-law, please.” The woman eyes me with interest, and then she scurries away.

When the relative is out of earshot, Cora sighs with relief.

“Thanks. She’s a distant cousin my mom said I had to invite, but she’s always been so nosy.” Cora takes a dainty sip of her chilled drink and sighs again. “I feel like I’ve been talking for hours,” she laughs but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Are you okay, Cora?” I search her face with concern. Her features are lovely but looking a bit pinched.

“Yes, of course, I’m fine,” she tells me unconvincingly.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

She looks down for a moment at the champagne glass in her hand.

“Well, it’s just, do you know where Marky is? I finally got a hold of him but he said he couldn’t talk and just hung up on me. It was really weird.” Cora looks genuinely troubled and it’s all I can do to not pull her into my arms.

Get it together. She’s about to be your daughter-in-law.

“I’m not sure where Marky is,” I tell her, and it’s the truth.

“Was he still at work when you left?”

I shake my head.

“No, and I told him to leave early, so he could focus on getting ready for tonight. He left right after lunch, saying he had some stuff to wrap up today.”

“After lunch? Oh sure, no that’s right. I forgot that.” Cora takes another sip. I can tell she’s fibbing, but decide not to press her on it.

Out of mercy, I change the subject.

“Are you surviving the onslaught of relatives?”

“Barely.” She smiles weakly. “But I’m happy so many people could make it. And the restaurant really is just perfect. Thank you again.”

“You deserve nothing but happiness Cora. This is your day.” I smile at the girl, but to my surprise, her eyes are misty. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just wedding jitters.” She goes to take a sip of champagne but holds up the glass, now empty. “Oops, drank that too fast. Don’t want to be getting drunk at my own engagement party!”

Suddenly, a member of the serving staff materializes at Cora’s side within seconds with a freshly chilled, full flute of champagne. Oh shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have given that instruction to keep her glass filled.

“Oh wow, thank you,” she says with surprise. The waiter nods politely and then strolls off to help another guest. “They’re very attentive here,” Cora says to me.

“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” I say vaguely. “Great service.”

Cora looks at me, her brown eyes questioning. We look at each other quickly, and the moment is electric, but she breaks contact first.

“So I’m surprised Marky’s mom isn’t here.” She looks at me with a questioning look, and then grows red. “Sorry, I just thought it was weird that she refused to come.” Cora looks down at her feet, embarrassed.

I laugh lightly.

“Honestly? I bet it’s just because Angelica didn’t want to see that ring on your hand.”

Cora looks confused as she looks down at the heirloom, letting the light reflect brilliantly off the delicate diamonds.

“Really?”

“Yes,” I reply. “That ring was hers for years, and I had to pry it out of her possession as part of our divorce. Otherwise, it would still be in her jewelry chest.”

Cora blushes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

I shrug.

“Don’t be. It looks good on you, sweetheart. Much better than it ever did on Angelica, with her blood-red talons.”

Cora smiles a bit, and I nod.

Good, glad she’s lightening up a little. But where is Marky?

More than ever, I’m tempted to touch Cora. Giving in, I sweep a wisp of her dark brown hair back from her face and tuck it behind her ear, and we both pause at the gesture. I drop my hand abruptly, and Cora takes a long sip of her champagne. The air between us is tense and vibrating with electricity, as if we both know I’ve done something taboo.

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