Page 3 of The Rules

Cat tipped her head onto Dani’s shoulder, knocking the white orchid she had fastened askew. “Layers.”

Dani pressed her thumb into the corner of her eye, blotting her mascara back into place. Back to keeping things light. Moments like this—teary, loaded moments—they made Dani itch. She fished her phone out of the top of her dress and angled it toward Cat just as she put more cake into her mouth. The flash startled her, and her beautifully done-up face twisted awkwardly around her fork.

“Oh my God! Why?” That sappy look in Cat’s eyes was replaced by the spitfire Dani recognized.

“For the album!”

Sonya laughed. “I hope you’re sharing that.”

Dani had been keeping a file of horribly-timed photos of all of her friends for years. They came in handy for birthdays, anniversaries, basically any event you didn’t want ruined with a slideshow of embarrassing candids. Sonya only found it amusing because she never seemed to take a bad picture. Her skin was dark enough to hide any imperfections and she was a total gym rat so she didn’t have an ounce of hidden flab for anyone to document.

“Don’t worry,” Dani said. “I’ll post it while she’s lying on a beach in Hawaii and tag Josh.”

Cat stuck her tongue out. “I hate you.”

Mood officially lifted.

“Take a real one, Dani,” Emma said. She took everyone’s plates and set them on the nearest table.

“No.” Cat scowled.

“Come on, Kit Cat,” Dani said, maneuvering them into a half-circle. “We need one of all of us!”

Sonya and Emma squeezed in, and Dani came around to Cat’s other side. She threw her arm around Cat’s neck, avoiding all of the curls and lace and fresh-cut flowers. “You’re my bestest friend in the whole wide world, Kit Cat,” she whispered, stretching her arm out to get them all in the photo. “Always remember you loved me first.”

Cat snort-laughed, Emma opened her mouth to say something, and Sonya put on a supermodel grin. Dani snapped the photo.

“Ugh! Dani!”

Jagged Edge faded out and, in a testament to the skill of DJ Hotty Mcfly, blended seamlessly into the first notes of “At Last.”

Dani pushed Cat with her elbow. “You should go find your husband.”

“I should.” Cat squeezed her around the waist. “Love you, Dani.”

“Love you more.”

Dani watched Cat cross the dance floor to her husband. Josh met her in the middle, cupping her face in both of his hands, and kissed her like she’d been gone for years.

When Dani turned back around, Emma and Sonya had both beelined toward their dates.Great.She could feel her good mood waning as the lyrics got more and more romantic and she stood there alone.

She swung her eyes around the courtyard for someone to talk to and spotted Dylan waiting at the bar. He hadn’t brought a date, which was unlike him. She couldn’t remember an event where Dylan didn’t have a new woman on his arm. Last summer, she’d tagged along with Cat to a charity softball game that Josh and Dylan’s architecture firm had sponsored. Dylan spent the entire time either on the field or in the dugout, but by the time it was over, he’d somehow snagged three women’s phone numbers.

At a softball game.

His dating success wasn’t a mystery. Dylan was six feet of lean muscle and had that deadly combination of a boyish smile and a tattooed chest. It made it easy to overlook his overgrown frat-boy persona.

She had to admit, he looked especially tall, dark, and handsome in that suit. The blue tie made his mossy eyes look sort of emerald actually, and she’d never found a reason to complain about the way a nicely-pressed dress shirt showed off his narrow waist. She allowed herself the indulgence of checking out his ass as he leaned his elbows on the bar.

But when she dragged her eyes back up his body, he was staring back.

Oops.

Dylan cocked his head to the side, his smile smug. Heat slapped her cheeks. No doubt about it, she’d been caught. There was nothing left to do but own it. Besides, flirting with Dylan might be just the thing she needed to get her out of this sentimental mood she’d found herself in.

Now if she could just walk over there without swaying.

“Hey,” she said, bumping Dylan’s upper thigh with her hip. He had a good five inches on her even in her heels. “Order me one, will you?”

---