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‘I had a date.’
‘Where is she?’
He looked away. ‘Thought we weren’t talking about our exes.’
That was fine with her. ‘Just so you know, I’m not heartbroken. Get that out of your head.’
Angry, frustrated, disappointed, yes, she wouldn’t deny it. Heartbroken? No. Absolutely not.
‘Come on, Samantha,’ he said, adopting the sober tone of a pharmacist. ‘I’ve been there. I know the signs.’
‘Since you’re an expert, what are the signs?’
‘You’re sulky, moody, cranky, ready to jump down everybody’s throat.’
‘Not everybody, just yours.’
‘I deserve it,’ he said. ‘And I can handle it. Still, aren’t you here to have fun?’
‘I’m here to survive this wedding. That’s it. That’s the goal.’
‘I’m up for fun,’ he said, wistful. ‘It’s been one hell of a year.’
Her mind reeled, spinning scenarios in which Roman Carver was living his best life, partying like a rock star. What would that even look like? Could she handle it?
‘Well, this was all very illuminating.’ She slipped her keycard out of her clutch purse. ‘Plus you’ve managed to get me back to my humble abode. I guess this wasn’t a total waste of time.’
He looked up at the bright yellow bungalow with its wraparound veranda and quaint wooden swing. ‘It’s cute.’
‘Cosy, too.’
‘I’ll leave you here,’ he said. ‘Will I see you tomorrow?’
‘Depends on the wedding itinerary. Are you up to speed?’
‘I’m on top of it. I check the website for updates every day,’ he said, walking backwards.
‘Will you be joining us for sunrise yoga, then?’
‘Not even for your beautiful smile.’
‘Ha!’ She swivelled and rushed up the wooden steps, her smile widening. She didn’t make it inside. Her curiosity demanded she ask one last question. ‘Hey!’ she called after him. ‘Would you really let Anthony crash and burn?’
‘I love Anthony,’ he said. ‘But lately he’s been so goddamn smug.’
Samantha barked out a laugh. ‘You know what? He and Naomi are going to get on fine!’
‘I can feel it!’ Roman said. ‘Go to bed, pretty girl. Goodnight!’
