Page 52 of Snapshot

“A little north of forty million. What are you getting at?”

Crack!The tiara snaps in half. She grabs her palm where the sharp edge of the plastic bit her. “Ow,” she mumbles.

“I warned you.” I take her hand and pull it to my lips.Kiss.As if a little peck will fix everything. I meant it as a sweet gesture but she rips her hand away, her cheeks flushing crimson.

“That thing you said earlier about Denny being upset I’m not Ivy League… Who’s Denny?”

“She’s my family’s household manager. A personal assistant of sorts but with more authority. Right now, she’s the closest thing I have to family. She’s been around since before I was born. But the thing I said about Ivy League was just a jab at Denny. It bothers me how pretentious she is sometimes. Len…” I wait until her eyes are on mine. “That’s my world, but I’m not like that.”

“You sure?” she asks with a reluctant smile. “Because for three years, I’ve wondered why you turned me down the night we met. You haven’t made a move since. You’re sweet, considerate, and flirt with me shamelessly. You hate my boyfriends. It didn’t make sense.Until tonight.”

My face screws up in confusion. “What makes sense now?”

“You cared about me too much to hit it and quit it. But I’m also not your pedigree. So, I guess friends made the most sense.”

“Len, that’s so out of?—”

“Who’s my number eighteen?You’re up!”The officiant busts through the chapel doors with his auctioneer voice. I might’ve laughed if his timing wasn’t piss-poor.

I hold up our ticket between two fingers but keep my eyes on Lennox. She looks like she’s about to cry.Just stay with me.Let me explain how you’ve got this all wrong. “We need a minute,” I say, but he doesn’t hear me.

“Oh, hey there, missy, you broke your veil.” He looks at Lennox’s lap. “I can grab another from the front.”

“That’s all right.” She clears her throat and stands up. “We’re ready.”

He glances between me and Lennox, finally cluing into the tension. “You sure?”

His gut is begging to break free of his beige suit. And apparently, I just hurt my bride’s feelings. Not to mention she’s in cowgirl boots and we both smell like the bar we were drinking at. This isn’t right. She deserves a dress and a real veil. Lennox should get married knowing how her groom actually feels about her. This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go.

Nothing in the past few weeks is how my life was supposed to go.

Every time things would get too far off course like this, and I didn’t know what was best, I’d call Grandma. If I could, I’d ask her what to do in this moment, but she already made her intentions clear from beyond the grave. Her decision is why I’m in this mess to begin with.

“You still want to do this?” I ask Lennox.

Her nod is too eager. Overcompensating. “I gave you my word.”

“And now I’m giving you an out.”

She holds out her hand to me and wiggles her fingers. “Dex Hessler, get your ass up and let’s get married.”

Lennox

Dex didn’t slip me tongue. In fact, after it was all said and done, he pecked me on the cheek. Even the officiant gave him the side-eye. I was so embarrassed I stormed out of the chapel like a child and hunted down the nearest rideshare driver.

I knock on the darkly tinted passenger window. Once it rolls down, I point to the neon pink rideshare sign visible through his windshield. “Hey, are you waiting for someone, or are you free?”

“Are you headed to the Strip?” he asks.

He looks like a freaking kid.Eighteen, maybe?I bet he can’t drink. He looks barely old enough to legally hold this job. His hat is backward, and he’s wearing a cut-off gym shirt with two gold chains around his neck. Yet, there’s a blazer neatly folded and lying in the passenger seat of his nice SUV. It’s safe to say I am confused about everything going on in front of me. Then again, I just came barreling out of a wedding chapel in a white tank top, jean shorts, and cowgirl boots with my groom nowhere in sight. I’m hardly in a position to judge.

“No,” I answer. “Opposite direction. Near Calico Springs. It’s about thirty minutes from here.”

He twists his lips. “That’s too far. I can make, like, three trips back and forth from the Strip in that time. I don’t like to venture from my normal route.”

There are footsteps on the concrete approaching me, but before I can turn, Dex wraps his forearm around my shouldersfrom behind. He pulls me backward into the firm wall of his body so when he leans through the open window, he’s not squishing me against the door.

“Can you make an exception?” Dex asks the kid.

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