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I plop down into a leather chair. The exhale that escapes is one of resignation. I won’t become an old cat lady or a dog lady, for that matter. I want to believe there is someone out there for me. Someone to love and love me back—and not stab me in the back.
Ross isn’t that guy. Romy isn’t going to be by my side, holding my bouquet as I pledge my vows. And I’m not going to race around Atlanta at her beck and call fulfilling my “duties.”
Nope, I’m going to stay in this library until the dinner bell rings. Or maybe I can pretend to be a princess like Romy and have my servants bring my meal to me.
I chuckle because I won’t be doing any of that. I get to my feet and with a heavy heart, I know it’s time for me to head back to the party. When I near the door, from the hallway comes a voice as deep as the velvety night. His tone is firm, confident.
From the other side of the library door, I can’t help but hear him say, “He doesn’t act like it.”
Silence.
He says, “I’ll be back in two days. It can wait.”
Pause. He must be on the phone.
“I never said one way or the other. Yeah, we’ll discuss it when I get there.”
The hallway falls silent and footfalls pound in the opposite direction.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath as I let it out. Whatever was going on sounded intense. I’m not sure if the guy was a rehearsal dinner guest or someone employed by the caterer. I suppose it doesn’t matter, but that voice isn’t one I’ll soon forget, even if the contents of the conversation sounded slightly suspicious.
If I can find a man’s voice attractive, maybe there’s hope for my happily ever after.
Returning to the party, I still don’t see Romy, but several of our college friends stop me, introducing me to their boyfriends and beaus.
Morgan asks me if I’m dating anyone while her fiancé checks his cryptocurrency stats.
“Nope, still single.” Lips pressed together, I nod slowly. I’d like to add,I wasn’t until four months ago, which is why we’re all here, but I refrain from pointing out that my ex-boyfriend is the groom-to-be.
“I wonder if he’s single. Saw him before. There’s something about a slightly older guy.” Jessly licks her lips and points to a man with his back to us.
“I thought you were dating Ken from work?” Morgan asks.
She shrugs like that arrangement could easily be altered.
I try to hide my discomfort.
“Is he a sniper or a spy?” Morgan asks.
Jessly says, “Maybe a Viking, Thor?”
Morgan’s fiancé looks up and says, “A lumberjack?”
The man of interest has broad shoulders and firm muscles under a dress shirt that ripples with his movements. His stature is strong and his presence commanding.
“Come on, turn around,” Morgan whispers.
“I can take care of that.” Jessly thrusts her shoulders back, puts her chest out, and struts toward the guy.
I say, “Do you think it’s a problem that—?” But before I can finish questioning Jessly’s loyalty to Ken from work, the guy turns around.
The slim lines around his light brown eyes suggest he’s closer to my age than Romy, Morgan, or Jessly. I met them when I went back to college for vet school after serving as a military nurse...after I lost Ethan.
For the first time in a long time, something clicks in my chest. It’s an unusual sensation and has only happened once before. It replaces the nervous vibration under my skin with a steady beat.
I can’t help but take in every inch of the sniper, spy, Thor, Viking, lumberjack guy. He has dark hair, cropped short, and a couple of days’ worth of stubble but wears it well.
Morgan whispers, “Oh, I know who that is. He’s the best man.”
