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She turned to face her second brother-in-law. “Rami! You look great.”
“Ariana insisted on this.” Rami ran a hand over his immaculate tux. “I feel ridiculous.”
“You don’t look it,” she said, and belatedly remembered his odd greeting. “What story are you talking about?”
“The reason you’re unforgivably late.”
He said that with such a straight face that her smile faded.
“If we have to endure this torture, you have to suffer with us,” he finished.
She burst out laughing and fell into him, wrapping her arms around him as she tried to get a hold of herself. Rami had been reserved when she first met him, but in the two years that he’d been married to Ariana, she’d definitely come to appreciate his dry sense of humor. He detested these events with a passion and would much rather be holed up in his office surrounded by computer screens.
“Incoming,” Lyle muttered.
She looked up and saw her sisters bearing down on them. Colette wore a white gown that made her look like a goddess, while Ariana wore jet black. Her sisters towered over most of those present. Even though she had known them all her life, she still found herself wondering how it was possible that they looked so similar when they had different mothers. They had the same smile, same shade of glacial blue eyes, and same sensual walk. She wondered if Ariana’s supermodel mother taught them, or if they came by it honestly.
Two feet from their small circle, Colette stopped dead in her tracks. “What happened?”
She straightened. “What do you mean?”
Colette came forward, eyes sweeping her from head to toe. “Was it raining in Philadelphia?”
She blinked. “No. Why?”
“You look disheveled and your hair…”
She resisted the urge to fix her curls. “What about it?”
“It looks like you did it yourself.”
“Well…”
“Didn’t you get a clutch with your outfit?” Ariana butted in.
“Yes.”
“Then, why aren’t you using it?”
Because her notebook wouldn’t fit in it, but she wasn’t about to tell them that. “I like this one better.”
“It’s black,” Ariana said, as if she’d paired her blush-colored gown with a neon clutch.
“I don’t think it looks bad,” Rami said, which got him a quelling look from his wife.
“Why are you late?” Colette asked.
“She was studying for a test and lost track of time,” Lyle said blithely.
When Colette tossed him a disbelieving look, he shrugged.
“You’ve never been to grad school. The courses are brutal. They’re running her ragged.”
Colette’s mouth tightened in disapproval, but when someone caught her eye, her expression smoothed into a polite mask.
“Other people handle the coursework just fine,” Colette said through her teeth. “Minnie, I suggest you try to make yourself presentable before dinner and hope Dad doesn’t see you before then.” She shot a challenging look at her husband. “Maybe you should be there to continue to make excuses for her and see if Dad buys that story.”
“He doesn’t need to buy anything,” Lyle countered. “If she was here instead of two hours away in Philadelphia, this wouldn’t have happened.”
