Page 59 of Igniting Sparks
Shit.
“They live in Florida.”
“How long have you two been dating exactly?” Bitsy is like a dog with a bone. She knows she’s found a weak point, and she plans to exploit the hell out of it.
Wereallyshould’ve worked out our backstory.
“A few months,” I reply, glancing at Mina like it’s common knowledge.
“Wow, that’s fast,” Leo chimes in, earning a glare from me.
Thanks, Leo. Super helpful.
Mina balances her elbows on the table, sighing into her hand. “We just knew, okay? What does it matter how long we’ve been together?”
Seems my lady has found her voice, and I’m ready to back her up.
“Exactly. I’ve known people who got married after a month and are still together. Conversely, I know people who dated for a decade and split after six months of marriage. There’s no required timeline. While we’re at it, how long have you two been dating?” I turn my attention to Vanessa and Trevor, knowing full well that their engagement is also a ruse.
Vanessa’s face blanches at my direct question. Seems she and Trevor skipped the details of their backstory, too.
Fuck, this is going downhill fast.
The main course arrives, but we need our steak knives to cut the tension, not the beef.
I’ve got to stop the bleeding—though it might be a lost cause.
“Before we dine, I have a toast.” The table quiets as I lift my glass, eyes locked on Mina. “Here’s to whirlwind romances, expecting the unexpected, and living life to the fullest with those who bring us joy. Salud.”
There’s a round of polite murmurs before everyone turns back to their plates.
Mina blows me a kiss across the table. I catch it.
Bitsy, however, throws daggers from the periphery.
Crisis averted, but the war is far from over.
That was the longest meal of my life.
Thank God, there were no more pointed questions, and I survived without using a single wrong utensil or dropping food in my lap.
I let the others ride shotgun in the dialogue department, their conversation buzzing around me like bees at a picnic.
Leo took center stage, regaling us with stories of his life in Los Angeles.
He’s some big shot dancer on the West Coast, working with all sorts of celebrity types. But he isn’t a braggart. He’s witty and self-effacing, despite an obviously elite upbringing.
Still no clue how he knows Mina, though.
And that’s not sitting well with me.
After eating, we stroll into an ornate ballroom, empty save for a string quartet and a few couples dancing across the floor.
Leo motions to Mina. “It’s our song. Come on, we have to dance.” His gaze cuts to me. “That is, if it’s alright with you.”
Mina waves him off. “I don’t need to dance.”
But Leo doesn’t back down. “We were partners for years. You can’t deny me one dance.”
