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I grunt. “Sure.”
Inez seems to interpret my curt response as annoyance. “Well, sheesh…” She falls silent, her laughter dying on her heart-shaped lips.
I am annoyed. But not for the reason she thinks. Not because I had to rush out in the middle of my shift to come rescue her.
This woman leaves town for months and then shows up in a dirty wedding dress in the middle of the night, trying to act like it’s business as usual? Damn right, I’m annoyed.
A million and one questions are swarming around in my head. What happened to bring her here tonight? Is she back for good? Does this mean that the wedding is off? What exactly is going on?
But I don’t even know where to start. Instead, a heavy, awkward silence settles in the car as Inez wiggles around in her seat, struggling to get comfortable.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to mind my business, to act indifferent, to keep from overstepping any lines. Except I’m not indifferent at all. I want to know everything. My curiosity is killing me slowly.
Stopped at a red light, the silence grows louder, to the point that it pains my ears. When I can’t take it anymore, I glance her way. “So, are you gonna tell me what happened?”
Inez squirms under my stare, pretty eyes flitting down to her wedding dress. It’s billowed up around her, like it’s trying to swallow her whole. “Oh, you know…cold feet, I guess.” She toys with the beading and sparkles on her dress.
Wait—did she just…? She just confirmed that she didn’t marry that TV douchebag…Right?
I won’t lie—I’m relieved to hear that. Maybe she was able to see through his phony persona after all. I’m so glad she saw him for who he is, and turned his ass down at the altar.
Not because I have any say in her life. Obviously. But because she deserves better than that fraudulent excuse for a man.
“Cold feet…?” I don’t buy it.
She twists her neck to examine my expression. “What…?”
“I’ve never known you to second-guess yourself.” I shrug.
She folds her arms. She pouts her lips. She shoots me a mighty stink eye. Talk about defensive body language. “Well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do, Brighton.”
I chuckle low in my chest and my words slip out drenched in sarcasm. “Come on. You said you wanted a husband, Machado. That actor dude should be perfect for the role. He’s Mr. Golden Boy. Everybody loves him.”
She spits out a laugh. “Trust me. Vance Cavendish loves himself more than all of America combined does.”
My head bobs.“I wholeheartedly agree with that assessment.”
Inez shifts toward me, material ruffling and swishing as she moves. A twinkly-eyed grin takes over her face. “So, you’ve been watching the show?”
Shit. I just showed my hand. Now it’s my turn to squirm.
Her wide grin morphs into a knowing smirk and I realize that I’ve been caught.
My ears heat up and I shake my head, trying to downplay it. “The bar has been watching the show. Over and over again…And again…And some more.” I glance across at her in the poorly-lit car. “The town was really rooting for you.”
Her gaze falls downward. She winces. “I let everyone down, didn’t I?” She looks disappointed in herself.
I’m not having it. “This is your life we’re talking about. Who gives a fuck what everyone thinks?” I grind out. Maybe a little too harshly.
But she shouldn’t feel like she owes anything to anybody.
I take a cleansing breath. “All that matters is…are you okay?”
She hesitates, her eyes not meeting mine. “I’m okay…”
I don’t like the way that she says it. It’s not freaking convincing.
I look at her again. More closely this time. That’s when I see the faint black mascara streaks tracing her cheeks.
