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1
Evie
Bridgewater, Pennsylvania
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Of course the contents of my borrowed clutch spill all over the floor as I look for my name. There are only four place cards left on the table. At least I’m not the only guest ridiculously late. Crouching down, I shove my keys back inside.
“Can I help you?”
As I scoop up a tube of lip gloss, a young man in a tux peers over me.
“Yes, please. I was just looking for my table assignment. Fuller?”
Finally cleaned up, I stand just as he claims a folded card from the table. “Ms. Evie Fuller.”
Eh-vee, I mentally correct him. Gotta love a name that one hundred percent of people mispronounce. Reaching for it, I take the card from his gloved hand. “Thank you.”
He points down the hall. “The DeLuca reception is that way.”
It would have been easy enough to find; the Yorkfield Barn only has one event space. I’ve been to two weddings here before, but never, I suspect, one quite like this. Between Enzo’s massive amounts of wealth and Chari’s good taste, I’m prepared to have my breath taken away.
“Evie, thank goodness,” a familiar voice calls just as I begin walking.
Cole and Zara Donovan, one of my favorite couples in the world.
“I thought for sure we were the last ones here,” Zara says as Cole grabs their table card. “I’m so embarrassed to come in so late.” She gives me a quick hug.
“Same. I had some trouble at the restaurant and didn’t even make the ceremony. Was it amazing?”
Problem with owning a family restaurant? Wearing all the hats. I could kick myself for having trusted a new vendor without properly vetting him, but no one expected a hundred-year-old produce supplier to go out of business, just like that.
“It was unbelievable. Enzo teared up when Chari came down the aisle.”
“He did not tear up,” Cole says, coming up to us. “Hey, Evie.”
“Hi, Cole.”
He offers Zara his arm. “There was something in his eye.”
Zara scolds him as we walk toward the main entrance. “And what exactly is wrong with a man crying? That’s the kind of thing we need to normalize. The boy code has to go.”
Cole winks at me as Zara makes a face. It’s clear to everyone he knows that would get a rise out of her, and Zara took the bait.
“What held you guys up?” I ask.
When Zara’s cheeks turn immediately pink, I can’t help but laugh.
“I mean, look at her,” Cole says in their defense.
To be fair, Zara does look amazing. She doesn’t typically wear a ton of makeup, her flaming red hair enough to turn heads all on its own.
“I thought you were coming with Jay?” Zara asks.
It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen or talked to her, restaurant and all, and she clearly hasn’t heard. Not much happens in Bridgewater without most of the town knowing, so I’m somewhat surprised. Although Zara is a newspaper publisher now, so she’s been pretty busy too.
“We broke up.”
