Page 3 of Stand and Defend

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Page 3 of Stand and Defend

I recognize a few of the staff from the hospitality service they use for the quarterly H&H stockholder meetings. I would put money on some of his father’s business partners being here too. It’s supposed to be a wedding-party-only event, but leave it to the Davenports to find an excuse to do a little dealmaking on the side.

Our families cheer at our arrival, and I do my best to match my fiancé’s artificial joy. At the bar, a cork pops from a bottle of champagne, and they pour the bubbly. He raises our joined hands like I’m some trophy. Why shouldn’t he? After all, we’re the happy bride and groom-to-be.

“Can you believe I get to marry this girl? Look at her, isn’t she gorgeous?” he announces to the room before planting a kiss on my cheek.

I force a grin and make sure the corners of my eyes crinkle for good measure.

“Luckiest man in the world!” Some guests sigh andaww. He leans in and whispers, “This weekend is about us, let’s just enjoy ourselves.” At least he’s not angry anymore.

The speedy click-clack of high heels grows louder, and when I look in the direction, a real smile takes over my face when I see Veronica, my best friend and maid of honor, running toward us. Well, as fast as she can while teetering in sky-high heels.Thank God she’s here.

“My turn! I’m stealing her!” She wraps me up in a hug and tugs me toward the open bar, shoving a flute of champagne in my hand. “You look phenomenal in this dress. Holy shit.”

I laugh and bump her hip. “Same to you. Purple is your color.”

She twirls and does a little shimmy. “To us being irresistible.”

“Cheers.” Our crystal flutes clink.

“I’m starving,” I say, looking around. “How’s the catering? Will they be passing the hors d’oeuvres soon?”

“Yes, but none for you. Only eight weeks left until the wedding, and we can’t risk you losing your measurements. But don’t worry, I made you a salad with a delicious lemon vinaigrette.”

I love Veronica, but her lemon vinaigrette tastes like lemon-scented Pledge.It’s a secret I’ll take to the grave. She’s my closest confidant, well, myonlyconfidant. When you come from wealth, true friends are scarce. People only want to get close so they can get something out of you, which leads to never letting anyone in.

I groan. This stupid fucking wedding diet is gonna kill me. I’m always hungry. How am I gonna last eight more weeks of starvation? Why can’t they make the dress fit me as I am now? Why do I have to drop into single-digit sizes? It’s ridiculous and archaic.

She takes a sip and smiles. “So... how are things going?”

I sigh. “We kinda got into another fight.”

She rolls her eyes. “Now what?”

“Same shit, different shovel. His trust issues are out of control. Telling me I’m flirting when—I swear, Roni—I’m just talking to people!”

“Are you sure? You know I have your back, but sometimes you can come off a little flirty...”

What?“How?!”

“Don’t get defensive! It’s a tone thing.Iknow you don’t mean anything by it, but maybe the men you speak to don’t. I dunno, forget it. I’m probably wrong.”

Well, shit, now that’s gonna be sitting on the backburner of my brain for the rest of my life. I’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with another person as long as I live because I will constantly second-guess my speech.Was my hello friendly or more than friendly?Goddamn it.

“I guess it’s something I’ll pay more attention to. But I really don’t think that’s happening.”

“You’re probably right. You know Bry? He loves to overreact.”

Bry?I swallow my thoughts and take a sip of my champagne instead.

She waves her hand, as if to erase the conversation. “Let’s have fun tonight. We’re celebrating, right?”

I raise my glass again and nod.

2

If this asshole doesn’t stop texting me, I’m gonna skip the trip altogether. It’s bad enough he’s getting married on a game day, but thankfully, the game starts four hours after the ceremony. I’ll be able to make it work, but it’s still a lot of added stress. Might have to live stream my best man speech from the locker room.

I missed the engagement party due to an away game, but I was warned the wedding-party weekend was mandatory—according to Bryan, Jordana is quite the bridezilla.Doesn’t matter, I’m only staying for one night. I have to return to the Twin Cities tomorrow for practice, so I’ll be outta here before breakfast.




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