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An ease washed over her at the thought of him before she caught herself. He wasn’t her support system. He certainly wasn’t her boyfriend. He was a liability she’d made the best of. In fact, that had to be where her nerves were coming from. Fear that Ryder would screw things up for her tonight. Somehow make her situation—both the one he’d created with that kiss and the one Noah had inadvertently placed her in by falling in love with someone else—worse.
She didn’t think Ryder would do anything intentionally. They had forged that much of a friendship in the last few weeks. It was the unintentional she had to watch out for.
Exactly why, she reminded herself, she had sent him her checklist for tonight.
She scanned the crowd of well-dressed celebrants, sipping drinks and gossiping around the elegantly decorated ballroom until she found him, leaning against the wall on the far side of the room. Hair slicked neatly back—check. Well-tailored suit in subdued navy with a crisp, white shirt—check. Tasteful tie and matching pocket square—check. Clean shave, sipping wine, not throwing back hard liquor, keeping his distance from Noah so as not to antagonize his brother and cause a scene—check, check, check.
He had followed her instructions to the letter. And he looked good, if not quite himself. So why did her pulse kick up as she looked at him?
“Oh!” Vicky nearly fell off her heels as something solid slammed into her.
“Oh God, I’m sorry! Are you okay?” gasped Ivy in a rush. She was impeccably dressed in a sleek black Dior gown, but her face was flushed, and her blue eyes were wide.
“Ivy, are you all right?”
The other woman put a hand to her chest and took a deliberately slow breath. “Yeah, yes, yeah. Sure. Don’t I look all right?”
“You look . . .”
“Harried? Stressed? Like someone asked me to pull together the engagement party of the decade in less than two weeks?”
Vicky looked around the room again. It was perfect. From the hors d’oeuvres to the flower arrangements to the crystal. “You’ve done an incredible job.”
Ivy folded her arms and surveyed it herself.
“I did, didn’t I?” She smiled with satisfaction. “Now I get to plan the wedding of the decade in under two months. Oh God, they’re circulating the stuffed shrimp only on the left half of the ballroom. Would you excuse me?”
She was halfway to the kitchen before Vicky could answer. Poor Ivy.
She looked around the ballroom again, spotting several couples she and Noah had frequently seen socially when they were together. Poor her. She took a deep breath. Okay. She could do this. Right?
Chapter Seventeen
Ryder swirled his wine in his glass. He was pacing himself, as per Vicky’s instructions. Not that it mattered. He could see the various Prince friends, relations, and business connections whispering about him when they thought he wasn’t looking. Or maybe they just didn’t care if he was looking.
Yeah, that’s right, Mrs. Prescott, I’d have bet my inheritance I’d never show up at something like this too.
He’d thought about raising his glass to one or two of the more shameless gossips across the room, but he was being a good boy.
How in the hell had he let himself get talked into this?
In fairness, this was an unprecedented event. Prince Charming was only going to get married once (Ryder could only hope). Mom might have insisted on his attendance anyway.
But at least he could have done it with flair. Rode in on a motorcycle or showed up with a coked-up model on his arm or something. Now he didn’t even want to cause a scene. Because Vicky would be upset, and for some stupid reason, he didn’t want to upset her.
He shook his head. “Pff.” He downed the rest of his wine.
But when he looked up to find somewhere to deposit the empty glass, there she was. She was a hundred feet away, on the other side of the ballroom, but she was looking right at him.
And it took his breath away.
Oh, she looked gorgeous. Elegant. She was wearing a silky number in vivid green that skimmed her curves and fluttered around her ankles in a way that looked like it had been designed just for her. It probably had been. She looked incredible, but that wasn’t it.
In fact, he thought as she moved through the crowd straight for him, he’d seen her in sweats and a baseball cap and had liked her just as much that way. Maybe more so.
She reached him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. She pulled back, and he missed her closeness immediately.
Maybe that was it. He had seen a version of her others hadn’t. One she was, inexplicably, trusting him with it seemed. At the park. At the fountain. Even now, he realized, as she took his hand and looked into his eyes.
