He liked old movies and smoked occasionally on balconies at parties, though not enough to smell of it. He was attentive without hovering and warm without performing.
“You’ve done this before,” I said.
“A few times.”
“And nobody ever falls in love?”
He lifted one shoulder. “That would be unprofessional.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really?”
He grinned, “Yes, it would be.”
Then the wedding day came.
I wore a stunning bareback dress, paired with heels and gold jewelry. Adrian arrived in a tuxedo that was perfectly tailored and showed just how sculpted he looks. When I opened the door, he took one look at me and said, “Your ex is in trouble.”
I laughed, and just like that, my nerves eased.
The vineyard was full of polished people pretending not to stare.
The second we stepped out of the car, I felt eyes turn. I slid my hand through Adrian’s arm and told myself to breathe.
We walked into the reception hall after the ceremony had already ended. That had been strategic.
I didn’t want to sit through vows. I only wanted to be seen at the reception, which more people normally attend.
I wanted Adam and his bride to see me as they interacted with their guests.
