Page 46 of The Wedding Crush

I nod a bunch of times, forcing a smile.

“He’s got other plans tonight, so we’re going to meet up sometime tomorrow.”

She does a double take. “I’m sorry, my brother, Stefano Fortemani, has other plans tonight?” Disbelief twists the lines of her face. Then, if I wasn’t looking, I might’ve missed it but Chiara shoots Victoria a look of…What does that look mean?

I’m staring at them trying to break the secret code but Ace tugs on my dress.

“Why are you sad, Mommy?”

Before I can answer, he places his small red car in my hand “to make me feel better.” Which, had he given it to me before we got to the vineyard this morning, it might’ve.

But now, looking at its big cartoon eyes and bold racer number on its sides, I can’t stop thinking about Stefano. My mind zigzags from him talking to Ace, to Sally locked in his garage, and the babies he and Carina never got to love on, like I love Ace.

Worst, what are Stefano’s plans?

I take Chiara’s glass and down the rest of her champagne. Lightweight or not, bring on the hangover.

CHAPTER NINE

Stefano

“Listen man, I’vegiven you space. We need to talk…” My best friend Dylan heaves an exaggerated sigh into the line.

I’ve known him since we were kids, popping wheelies on our bikes through the Napa hills. All the way up until he moved junior year in high school, then reunited in college, we’ve been thick as thieves. Even though he lives in Chi-town with his wife, son, and daughter, we’d plan family vacations together, and send holiday cards.

Still, whenever we reached out, it’s always like no time has passed.

Even when those vacations had become fewer and farther between as Carina and I found it harder to watch their family grow.

In those time gaps, though, there’s always social media keeping him in the loop.

“Nah, I’m good,” I say, downplaying Carina’s romantic update.

Mainly, I’d rather forget that she’s jumped back in with two feet. But I’ve also got back-to-back virtual meetings over the next three hours. One of which is with Avery, and I’d prefer not to be in my feelings this time.

So, nonchalantly, I add, “From the looks of things, it seems she’s good, too.”

There’s a slight pause, during which I sense my guy choosing his next words wisely.

Looks like we’re doing this.

Swiping out of the “Let Yourself Grieve” podcast episode that Avery recommended, I set down my phone alongside my keyboard and half-eaten turkey sub.

“Honestly, Paula and I… I mean, you’ve been talking about the love slipping away for years, but we always thought you guys would climb out of this rough patch, the way you’ve climbed out of every other valley life has thrown at you. So, it’s been a shock to us, too.”

“Yeah, I know…”

“Just remember you’ve still got us,” he adds.

An email notification drops from the top of my computer screen. It’s from my next client, a family friend, West Woodworks, who I’m scheduled to meet within a half hour.

I toggle over to the mail app, and relief immediately works its way through me, loosening my limbs.

A meeting cancellation on a Friday?

Thank you.

My ears perk up at a low whisper in Dylan’s background, that I’m assuming belongs to Paula, eager for an update on me, too. As close as Dylan and I are, our wives forged a friendship that veered neck and neck with ours.

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