Page 23 of No One Was Supposed to Die at This Wedding

“Sorry, everyone. I can’t always control what comes out of my brain.”

“If it wasn’t awkward before, it is now!” Harper says, and we laugh.

“So, last night?” Connor says, eager for the gossip.

Oliver sighs. “It was a dramatic evening.”

“Bound to happen,” Connor says, “given the players.”

“Do you know something?” I ask.

“Tyler and Fred have been spoiling for a fight for months.”

“How do you know that?”

He fidgets with his hair, a sure sign that he’s hiding something. “I’m observant.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Where wereyoulast night, Connor?” Harper asks. “Not like you to miss a party.”

“I was...working.”

“Doing what?” I ask.

“Something confidential.”

“That can’t be good.”

“Ha ha.” Connor fixates on something over my shoulder. “What’sshedoing here?”

“A popular question today,” Oliver says dryly as we all turn to look.

Allison and David are stepping out of a Land Rover. Allison’s wearing a white pantsuit, and David has a beachy vibe going with linen shorts and a dark blue Lacoste polo. His classic Wayfarers cover his eyes, and even though I have a dislike of him that’s probably unwarranted, I can see his appeal. Allison looks happy, anyway, which should be the only thing that matters.

I make a shushing gesture with my hand to stop whatever Connor’s about to say. “Quiet. They’re coming over here.”

Allison and David walk up, arm in arm. David tips his glasses up onto the top of his head and smiles at us in an open and friendly manner.

And it’s then that I remember. David isnice. Allison is nice, too, and she wouldn’t be with a man who wasn’t. Except Connor, but she was young when she met him, and we’re all entitled to one mistake. Me included.

“What a beautiful day for a wedding.” Allison points to the ocean, which is a deep blue and glittering in the sun.

“The wedding’s tomorrow,” Connor says.

Oliver clears his throat. “Alwayssoprecise.”

“I just like facts.”

I’m about to let out a sarcastic response, something about how he wouldn’t know a fact if he saw one.

I know, not my best work.

But I stop myself and take a deep breath instead.

Maybe more oxygen will help me make better decisions?

“Will we get blown into the sea with this storm, do you think?” David asks.

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