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“Juliet’s. They’re having drinks before they come over.”
“Rebecca is still coming, right?”
Antony’s and my eyes meet, and I give a subtle shake of my head. “Yes. But you’re not allowed to talk to her.”
“I can talk to her if I want,” he snaps, indignant.
I fake a smile and then drop it immediately. “Go for Taryn.”
“I don’t want fucking Taryn.”
“Rebecca doesn’t like you.” Antony rolls his eyes into his drink.
“That’s half the fun of it,” Blake says matter-of-factly as he looks around.
“Knock, knock,” says a voice from the front door.
“Come in, Winston,” I call.
The door opens, and he saunters in. I roll my lips to hide my smile. Winston is at least eighty and super skinny with gray hair that he combs over in a very bad attempt to hide his bald patch. He’s in tight blue jeans and a white polo shirt. “You’re looking spiffy tonight, Winston.” I smile.
“Thanks.” He smiles proudly as he looks down at himself. “Thought I’d dress up for the occasion.”
“Good for you,” I reply.
“Wait.” Blake frowns. “There’s an occasion?”
“Yes, there’s an occasion.” I widen my eyes. “Do you listen to me at all?”
“Clearly not.” He frowns. “What the fuck is the occasion?” His eyes dart to Antony. “Wait a minute, this isn’t your wedding, is it? Like . . . you’re not doing that dumb surprise thing, are you?”
“Oh my god.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Nobody even knows Juliet and I are together,” I whisper angrily. “How could this be a fucking wedding, you idiot.”
He puts his hand over his heart. “Thank god for that. I thought you’d really lost it for a second there.”
“Hello, boys,” Carol calls as she walks through the door holding a tray of quiches. “This is so lovely of you, Henley. I’ve made your favorite, dear.”
“Hello, Carol.” I kiss her cheek and take the tray from her. “Thank you. I’ll put this on the table out back.”
“Hey, Dr. Grayson,” Winston says as he comes over. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Call me Blake,” he replies.
Winston’s eyes flick to us. “In private.”
Blake frowns. “O . . . kay.” They step to the side, and Winston begins to whisper in his ear.
“What’s that about?” Antony says as he watches them.
“I have no idea.” I take out my phone and text Juliet.
Where’s my girl?
“Henley,” Taryn gushes as she walks over and hugs me. “Oh, I love coming to your house. It’s like coming home. This house is just so me.”
Hard no.
Antony tips his head back to sip his beer with a subtle scrunch of his nose.
