Page 30 of The Wedding Situation Romance

“I know, I know. I’m kidding. Yes, I’m paying. I asked you out. It’s only custom that I pay,” he says.

“But not on a date,” I reiterate.

“Not on a date,” he states. “It’s a business dinner. We need to talk through the wedding details. Nothing more.”

I pause for a moment. For dramatic flair.

“I guess I could let you take me out,” I say. “If it’s what you really want.”

“You’re so considerate,” he says.

“I know,” I smile and hung up. And for some reason, I keep smiling.

* * *

“I forgot how good this is,” I say, covering my mouth while I chew. “Bruschetta is probably my favorite thing on an Italian menu. Well second favorite,” I admit.

“What’s your first?” he asks.

“Not telling,” I shake my head.

“Why not?” he asks, taking a bite. “It’s not like I’m not going to find out as soon as you order it.”

“It’s not on the menu,” I say, and his brow furrows.

“One of the ritziest Italian restaurants in NYC, and you’re telling me that yourfavorite thingisn’t on the menu. Have you even looked?” Reid asks.

“Nope,” I answer, taking another bite. “I don’t need to. It’s a given.”

“You are insufferable,” he says, and I just smile.

“I said I like the bruschetta,” I offer.

“Second best,” he mutters, and I laugh. “So, are you going to tell me what this mystery Italian dish is that somehow tops a Michelin-star restaurant?” he asks.

“Nah,” I shake my head, reaching for my wine. “But maybe I’ll show you sometime. If you’re lucky…”

Reid smiles, shaking his head. And after we order our entrees (chicken carbonara for him and lemon-grilled shrimp with angelhair pasta for me), Ried leans in. “Alright. Pop quiz time,” he says.

“Let’s do it,” I say. Even though I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“How many weddings are we going to? Total?” he asks.

“Four. Including the one we already went to, which technically doesn’t count because I would have been at that one either way.”

“Who’s wedding is next?” he asks. And I do know this. He actually texted me a screenshot of each wedding invite shortly after we made our agreement.

“AJ,” I answer promptly. “AKA Andrew John and his lovely bride Andrea, which is kind of funny. It’s why they go by Andie and AJ.”

“How did you know that?” he asks.

“Social media. There was an Insta handle on the invite that links to the registry. Obviously,” I sass.

“Touche,” he nods. But he’s not smirking. He’s got his courtroom face on, which honestly, isn’t a bad look. Cocky Reid is attractive. Professional, prosecuting Reid is…kinda hot.

“The wedding is this coming weekend at Kingsley Hall. Modern minimalist. Black and white. And they expect everyone to know the Cupid Shuffle. It will be on her Instagram account and she has blue checkmark status, so we are tomake sure we don’t fuck it up. Respectfully, of course.”

“Jesus,” Reid mutters, scrolling through his phone.