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Dinner is excellent, of course. I catch a glimpse of my friend Stella at the back of the room, pausing to speak with each of the bartenders. Normally she’d delegate this kind of event to her staff, but Nick Holmes is important enough to rate the big dogs. I wink at her as I get drinks for Nica and myself, and she smiles back, her eyes tired.
The DJ reluctantly gives up his mic after dinner, and Nica gets her chance, introducing the best man and maid of honor when it’s time to toast the happy couple. She moves on to the father of the bride, a man who looks to be at least a decade younger than Holmes. He chokes out a few words, but he’s so wooden it’s impossible to tell if he’s proud or resigned.
“And finally, a man who needs no introduction, but I’m going to do it anyway. Because if I don’t, I’ll have to find a hotel room.” The crowd chuckles—clearly Nica’s rocky relationship with her father is well known among this crowd. She goes on to mention several of his famous movie roles and tells the story of stopping at the Rotheberg Bäckerei. It’s charming, but impersonal. The audience applauds and laughs in all the right places, responding to Nica’s excellent public speaking skills.
“Without further ado, the groom, my father, Nicholas Holmes!” She kisses the old actor on the cheek and hands him the mic. Holmes gives her a perfunctory one-armed hug, then beams at the audience, launching into a story that hopefully includes his new bride at some point.
Nica smiles her professional smile and takes her seat beside me. “That’s done. You wanna get out of here?”
“Now?” I gesture at Nick who’s clearly in his element.
“Do you want to stay for cake?” Her smile stays in place, but her eyes are tight at the corners.
“I can get cake at Helmut’s.”
She puts a hand on my arm before I can stand. “On second thought, let’s wait until the dancing begins. It will only be—” She glances at her father. “I was going to say a second, but I’m revising my estimate upwards.”
I tune out Nick’s voice, focusing on Nica. She looks worn—as if that charming but impersonal speech took everything. “Are you okay? We can go now.”
She smiles again and scoots her chair closer. “No. He’d never forgive me for walking out while he’s talking.” Her arm presses against mine and her hair brushes my cheek.
I suck in a deep breath, filling my lungs with her intoxicating scent. I’d sit through Nick Holmes reading the dictionary for her. “As you wish.”
She giggles and bounces her shoulder against my arm as we endure the rest of the speech. Nick offers the mic to his bride, but she declines. I can’t believe he’d allow himself to be upstaged, so I’m guessing that was planned in advance. Then he takes her hand and leads her onto the dance floor, swinging her in a wide circle that somehow makes him the center of attention rather than her. The DJ spins up “The Time of My Life.” The lights dim, and a spotlight glares down on Nick’s silver hair and his bride’s long blonde extensions.
Nica pushes her chair back with a jerk. “Now. I don’t think I can watch my dad dirty dancing with—” She smiles vaguely at the other guests at our table. “It was so nice to meet all of you.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurries toward the back of the room.
I nod at the others, give the kid a high five, and follow Nica, catching up to her by Bryan’s bar. She turns to face the dancing, inching backwards to stop beside the boy. “Is there a back way out of here?”
I raise an eyebrow at Bryan, who jerks his head toward the corner of the room. Nica gives him a wink and a thumbs-up, then grabs my hand and pulls me into the dim corner. The door has no knob, but swings open at her touch. We step into a narrow corridor, and I push the panel shut behind me. Then we take off toward the sounds of dishes and chatter.
The kitchen is hidden behind swinging double doors with round windows that cut most of the clatter of cleanup. Nica hurries on toward a blank door at the end of the hall. She pushes it ajar, revealing a smaller room that’s thankfully empty. Double doors release us into the lobby.
Gloria Mead rises from a comfortable chair as we enter. “Why’d you take the long way?”
“I didn’t want to get caught leaving.” Nica steps forward and holds out a hand. “I’m Nica Holmes. Thanks for rescuing us from the lawyer.”
Gloria ignores her hand and envelops her in a hug. “You’re welcome. That guy was mucho creepy. My son Rob is getting the car. Do you want to come over for a drink?”
Nica bites her lip and raises her brows at me. “I don’t have any other plans.”
I give her a tight look that I hope says, “only if you want to.” She nods, so I turn back to Gloria. “Sounds great. I have to return your car anyway.”
“Perfect.” Gloria heads for the door. “Meet you there.”
Nica grabs my arm. “Maybe I should go home—back to my dad’s place. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Won’t your dad and Destiny be going there tonight?” I make a face. “I’m sure your dad has a big house, but do you really want to share it with the newlyweds?”
“They’re spending the night in the honeymoon suite at the Lodge. Then they’re off to Tahiti in the morning. Or maybe Bali? I honestly wasn’t paying that much attention.” She smiles, but her eyes look tired.
“If you want to go to bed—” My face goes nuclear hot. “I mean, if you’re tired, I’ll take you home.”
She touches my cheek with one slim finger. “You’re sweet, but I’m too keyed up to sleep. Let’s go hang with your friends.”
Nica follows me across the parking lot to the Escalade. I open the door, but she just stands there, looking around the quiet parking lot. Whatever she’s looking for doesn’t happen, and she gives me a sheepish smile.
“Can you help me?” She gestures helplessly to the slit in her skirt. “It’s not high enough and I don’t want to tear it.”
