Page 96 of Marry Me

It had been a killer Saturday. Megan had attempted to stop one wedding before wrapping up another for work. She normally headed home for the comfort of her couch and junk food to unwind, but tonight she didn’t quite think she could handle the silence. Her heart hurt, and though she understood quite clearly that she carried the responsibility for that, she still sought relief, and the bottom of a glass seemed like the best place to find it.

Kelsey beat her to Shakers and had a picture-perfect martini waiting for her on the table when she arrived.

“You think ahead.”

“I learned from the best.”

Megan, having changed from her navy wedding clothes into jeans, flat shoes, and a simple black top, sighed in awe of the drink.

“Before you drink, let me propose a toast.”

“Is that really necessary?” Megan asked, squinting. The day had sucked, everything hurt, nothing more than her heart, and she just wanted to get on with it. “Let me toss this back like a fish, and please be prepared to walk me home. I feel like I might need three of these things.”

“It’s rare you get sloshed, so I can accept my best friend responsibility and deliver you safely to your door.”

Megan stared at the exposed brick on the back wall. “You should have seen the way the Jacksons looked into each other’s eyes during their first dance tonight.” She shook her head, remembering the love and adoration that made her want to gouge her eyes out. “Love is highly overrated.”

“You have every right to say that for a little while. A free pass, but it does have an expiration date.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m actually the fun one in this duo. See that woman over there? We actually had a lot of fun last night. Maybe you should try something similar.”

“Tried it. I’m broken. Love’s fault. Toast already, so I can swan dive into the drunk end of the pool.”

Kelsey lifted her glass, a lemon drop martini for her. “To taking chances.”

“No.” Megan set her glass right the hell down. “I don’t want to toast to that. Risk sucks.”

“You did something brave today, Meg.”

“Debatable. Pathetic comes to mind. But”—she nodded reluctantly—“I stand by it. I’m glad I put myself out there even if I crashed and burned in the most horrifying sense.”

“Except I’m not so sure you did.”

“If this is a speech about following my heart, you can skip it. More about the erasing-my-memory portion of the evening. Let’s get to that.”

“Not yet.”

“I’m really starting to resent you.”

“She didn’t marry him.” Kelsey raised her eyes from her glass to Megan and waited. Megan studied her friend’s face, noting the small smile that played on her lips. She wouldn’t screw around with Megan’s feelings right now. Did that mean that her words were true?

She made the come-here gesture. “What are you saying? I need more of the words.”

“I’m saying that Cade and Jason are at a bar about ten blocks from here, and Jason is regaling Cade with the dramatic events of his day working the Carmichael wedding. Or should I say the wedding that wasn’t.”

She blinked. She stared. She tried to understand.

Sensing her confusion, Kelsey set down her drink. “Apparently, moments before walking down the aisle, Allison asked to speak with Brent privately. Jason balked because tradition and all, but she insisted. No one knows what was said in that room, but the wedding was called off. Brent made a brief announcement to the already seated guests, Allison took off with her dad in his Nissan like a bank robber after a job, and the decor was quietly taken down. No one got married there today.”

Megan didn’t know what to do with this information. All of a sudden, she had energy coursing through her limbs, and her mind was now overly alert, not like she’d just worked a wedding and had her heart stomped on. As she sat there, she felt hope creep in. She’d not heard from Allison, though. Not a word, and she certainly hadn’t been happy or relieved to see her at the hotel this afternoon. That was worth paying attention to.

“We don’t know why?”

“Well, I think wedo. She’s in love with you and can’t ignore it.”

Megan frowned, searching the bar as if it would have her answer. “Then why haven’t I heard from her? Why hasn’t she told me she called it off?”

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