Page 27 of The Wedding Crush

Slowly, quietly, I swing my legs off the desk and push to my feet, inching toward my office door just as “Life is a Highway” blares through the speaker, giving me a mini heart attack.

Peeking through the door crack, I take one look and slap my hand over my mouth to keep from bursting at the seams.

“Girl…” I whisper. “This child has skipped back to his jam, and now he’s in there singing into the remote.”

Morgan joins in, crooning like a dog in heat.

Because my nerves are acting up, I sit on the edge of the desk to give my best friend a small chunk of my mind.

“Now, as far as Stefano Fortemani goes, much to yours and Dante’s dismay, I’m sure, there’s undeniably nothing there.” Morgan snort-laughs at this, but she needs to get this out of her head. Quickly. “Can I appreciate his beauty? Absolutely, the man is fine as hell.”

“Okay, let’s hear this alleged but.”

“Yes,but, he’s grieving his marriage.Hard,” I add to drill in my point. “And did I mention, the day of the tea party, this man was in the driveway listening to a freaking Johnny Timmons podcast? He was practically taking notes about sex and dating. Like, sir…be for real.What are you doing?” I shake my head way too many times. “Sonot my vibe.”

Morgan quiets for a moment, and for a second, I think the call failed, but no such luck.

Not by the longest of shots.

In fact, when Morgan Elaine Forster, my closest friend, even more so than the entire Sister Circle, blindsides me with a whopper.

“I don’t care if Stefano listens to Johnny Timmons while having sex, that man left here last night dazed and confused, like you reminded him he was fine.” She blows out an amused sigh. “Shoot,he couldn’t have been five miles down the road, and he’s calling D to talk about you…”

Naturally, this is the moment Ace decides he wants to sneak into my office and ask for a grape juice box, which I decidedly do not allow on my beautiful cream carpet. So, at the literal worst moment of this conversation, I pause to pop into the kitchen for a spill-proof sippy cup, then get him settled back in his lap of stuffed animals and cars luxury.

At this point, once the door is shut, I need details.

Sitting is overrated.

“Okay, I’m back.” I lean against the wall, my heart beating a million miles a minute. “So, you said Stefano called Dante to talk about me?”

Try as I may not to sound too eager, I’m failing miserably.

“Excuse me, but what happened toI don’t care about that old man?”

“First of all, forty-anything is not old. I said old-acting,” I clarify. “And second, I’m curious what he had to say about me. So, don’t make a big thing about it.”

She hums her disbelief but continues anyway.

“D and I immediately picked up the vibes y’all were throwing down at dinner.”

“What we were throwing down?”

“Mm-hmm. We’re convinced those schoolyard games you play—all the bickering, supposed resentment, and name-calling—all for show.”

I’ve got to laugh because if my best friend is going to do one thing, it’s support her claims with unfounded theories.

“Admit it, you’re completely turned on by how much you supposedly hate each other.”

“I never said Ihatedhim. You are too much,” I say, chuckling.

Her breathing shallows.

“Ooh, child, what I am is tired. I’m about to close this fitness ring, then climb my happy self right onto the couch and watch Netflix.” Her laugh bellows through the line before it morphs into a loud, yodeling yawn.

Every bone in my body warns,do not press her about what the guys discussed. Remind her about the contact information, then end this call. Quickly.Knowing will only prove exactly what I already know.

Stefano and I are two wrongs that absolutely do not make a right.

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