Page 83 of The Great Dating Fake Off
But I could’ve maybe preserved their respect, had I stayed away from Sebastian.
I dry heave again. Santino just stands there, patient, with a hand on my back. “Should I call Benjamino?”
“No!” I release the trash can and straighten up. “No thank you. Sorry.”
“It’s okay, dearie. Are you okay to get where you’re going?”
“I’m fine.” My words skate down the razor-sharp edge of fine and unhinged. “What time is it?”
He checks his watch. “Nine forty. Rehearsal brunch at ten.”
I suck in a breath. That’s late. Sebastian’s clock was wrong. But how?
It was blinking.
The storm.
The power must’ve gone out for a few hours while we were sleeping. The room was hot. I thought maybe it was just waking up on top of his warm body, but no. The AC would’ve needed to be switched back on, too. And, since he closed the curtains before we lay down, it would’ve been dark in the room no matter what time we woke up.
Santino squeezes my shoulder. “See you down there. And if you wouldn’t mind keeping what you saw between Gloria and me to yourself, I’d appreciate it. We’re usually more careful than that.”
Usually? As in, this has happened before? I kind of hoped I hallucinated that kiss. Telling anyone I saw it is the last thing on my mind. “Uh— Sure. Yes.”
I move to my room in a fog.Benji isn’t here. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
When I find my phone on the end table, I’ve missed a few texts from Benji.
I don’t know what to say to him. Not only am I screwed if—when—Mamma V tells people, he and Alessia will be screwed, too.
I pull on clean jeans and a T-shirt, and then strip them off when I recall Santino’s voice.
Rehearsal brunch.
The whole of this wedding is scheduled to enjoy a big happy meal before the bridal party scoots down to the lake gazebo to rehearse their procession.
Maybe I’ve got a little time to figure this out. Mamma V won’t want to mess up the rehearsal for her daughter. But then, would she find it disrespectful that I’m there?
My brain is a wild animal on a treadmill. I shouldn’t go to brunch.
The stuck zipper on my floral fancy brunch dress almost brings me to tears.
Yeah, I definitely shouldn’t go.
This is Benji’s family. He should be the one who decides what we do, which means I have to talk to him.
Now.
I dial his phone.
It rings from his travel charging port next to the bed.
Teeth clenched, I slip into the heels I chose for this dress and set out to intercept him before brunch. If his mother has already pulled him aside—
Nope. Not trying to make myself sick again. No use future-casting this nightmare.
The elevator takes a biblical length of time to reach me. When the doors slide open, a gaggle of wedding guests fill the space.
I step inside and count my breaths.
