Page 11 of Best Man Speaking

I glance at her passport again, tempted toborrowit. She wouldn’t be able to leave again without it.

“Brother-in-law-to-be, are you sure you don’t want to tell me what crawled up your ass and died tonight?” Erica’s tone is syrupy sweet as it floats across the table once Hallie is out of sight.

Julian laughs gruffly when I don’t answer straightaway.

“Nothing, Erica.”

“Then what’s with the display this evening?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking of asking you two the same question. You really thought it was a good idea to put Hallie and me together in an enclosed space?”

“Well, we had to trial it before the wedding. Couldn’t have the two of you spontaneously combust on the day,” Julian says.

“Oh no, we couldn’t have that now, could we? Not that I’m ungrateful you want me there, but shit, you had to ask Hallie to be maid of honor?”

“Yes. I had to ask Hallie. She’s our best friend.” Erica’s words land, and I can’t help but feel the bite of the admission.

I swallow, the statement leading into a small moment of silence. “Well, the least you could have done was give me a heads-up.”

This is a bullshit line, and I know it. Having the knowledge would’ve done more harm than good.

“What, you think Hallie would’ve shown up if she knew you’d be here? She would’ve rather walked across hot coals. And you, tell me—who would’ve you brought as a surprise date if you’d known in advance she was going to be here?” asks Julian, and it’s a fair question.

Setting down my drink, I run a hand through my hair. “Bringing someone else along might’ve been a godsend, you never know. It could’ve taken the heat off the actual situation.”

“And what is the actual situation?” Erica chimes in again after having been quiet for so long.

“The actual situation is Hallie can’t stand to look at my face.”

What I don’t add is that I feel much the same way, and it’s no one’s fault but my own.

“That’s more than obvious, dipshit, but I thought you broke her heart. What are you hating on Hallie for?”

“That, sweet sister, happens to be none of your business.” I take a quick breath. “Jules, tonight won’t happen again. Hallie and I will get it together, we’ll work together, party hard whenit’s called for, and after the wedding, neither of us will be left with a reason to kill the other or see each other again. We’ll go our separate ways, and that’ll be that.”

“You promise?” he asks, probably already wondering if he should be adding security and upping the insurance coverage on the wedding reception venue.

“Scout’s honor.”

Jules laughs, knowing full well neither of us was a Scout. He’s still smiling ruefully when Hallie reappears with a newfound gleam in her eye. I can’t blame myself for noticing her approach. Nearly everyone in the restaurant gave her at least a glance, and I can’t blame them either. She’s hard to ignore. Her eyes are bright, her cheeks are flushed, and I’m annoyed at the sight of her very obvious glee. I don’t care who or what caused it. I’m not interested in seeing it. She takes her seat again beside me, her body language more relaxed than it’s been all night.

“Your call seemed to put a pep in your step. Anything you want to share?” Erica asks, face lit with curiosity.

“Yeah, Hallie, with your flushed cheeks, one can’t help but think you’ve just been made real happy, real quickly,” I say, wishing I were able to keep my damn mouth shut.

I’d bet hard money that Jules wants to bang his head against the table—or at least drop his head into his hands in defeat.

Hallie’s face is no longer flushed in happiness but instead with what I can only assume is immense annoyance. “Actually, yes, Marcus, I’ve just been made really happy, really quickly, not that I’m sure you have much experience in making a woman happy, quickly or otherwise,” she says, brows raised in disdain. “I can see why you’d be tempted to question it.”

Julian holds up a hand to stop me from replying, his brows raised in disappointed teacher mode. “Before the two of you start to get into a discussion I’m not going to want to be a part of, let me remind you of the good behavior you just promised me.”

There isn’t a chance for anyone else to open their mouth and respond as Julian grabs the attention of a nearby waiter. “Would you mind bringing us the check as quickly as possible?”

The waiter smiles sympathetically, taking in the mood at the table. “Family dinners always seem to go this way. I’ll be right back.”

He returns in an instant, dropping the small leather receipt holder on the table. Three hands reach for it at once.

“I’ve got it,” Julian says. “You can just transfer me your share. Prepare to tip big.”

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