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Vicky kept the smile plastered on her face. “Mmm-hmm.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “Okay . . . But you know you can talk to me, right, Vicky?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Noah. We’re fine, though. Great! We’re really great. And so excited to be in the wedding!” She gave him a thumbs-up. Why the hell was she giving him a thumbs-up?
“Okay,” Noah said again. He looked her up and down before holding up a hand to say goodbye. She heard his footsteps retreat as he walked back down the hall toward his office.
Vicky swung her head down onto her desk and banged it gently again.
* * *
Standing on the busy midtown corner, Ryder gazed down the block at the fifty-story gleaming Prince Resort Hotels headquarters building and swore to himself. Vic was up there.
He did not want to be here.
He didn’t want to see her, even though he knew that since their little arrangement was continuing, he’d be seeing her more than once between now and Noah’s looming wedding.
He supposed he could have backed out of the whole thing, but he could never do that to her. Not if she really needed him. And she’d made it clear she did. Being needed and wanted were two different things, though.
The wind kicked up, and he turned up his collar at the crisp air. The weather and his place as the outsider were back to normal, it seemed.
Well, almost. Because he still had to be in his brother’s bloody freaking wedding. It was why he was here.
Noah had called earlier that morning, insisting he come to the Prince offices for his tux fitting. He’d argued against it, but Prince Charming had already arranged for the tailor to come there for his own fitting during his lunch hour, and since Ryder “had nothing important to do,” it was on him to accommodate his brother’s schedule.
He spewed a stream of expletives under his breath, earning him a stare from an elderly woman walking past. He flashed her an ingratiating smile. She just shook her head and moved on. Yeah, you and everyone else, lady.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. A text from Noah.
Remember, I only have an hour for lunch. I hope you’re close.
Ryder shook his head and shoved the phone back into his pocket without bothering to answer. Better just to get this the hell over with. He started walking up the street, toward the entrance. If he was lucky, maybe he wouldn’t run into Vicky at all.
* * *
He was not lucky.
He stepped off the elevator and smack into Vicky, striding down the hall with her nose in a printout. She looked up about half a second before literally walking into him and froze.
“Ryder.”
Judging by the wide eyes and open mouth, he guessed Noah hadn’t mentioned to her that he’d be coming by. Ryder was suddenly acutely aware of the dozen or so people who could see them from their desks, the copy room, standing by the elevator.
“Hello, sweetie,” he said. He bent to kiss her cheek.
Still not recovered from the shock of seeing him, Vic looked even more (adorably) confused at his show of affection. He glanced over at a few of their onlookers. He could see the moment it clicked. Suddenly she smiled wide.
“What a pleasant surprise! What are you . . . Why? . . . Did you want something?”
He thought about pointing out that dropping by to see his girlfriend was a perfectly normal thing to do, since he was her boyfriend and all, but he put her out of her misery.
“I’m just here for a suit fitting. You know, for the wedding.”
“Oh. Oh, right! Well, don’t let me keep you!” She leaned in awkwardly, planting a kiss on his cheek.
When she pulled back, she locked eyes with him, and for a second, all the pretense was gone. Her expression was tender, concerned. Maybe a little apologetic.
“Vic . . .”
