Page 134 of Shades of Grey & Gold

Chapter Forty-Nine

Max

TheBerkshiresinAprilare beautiful. Green and gold and stupidly, uselessly perfect. The winery has rolling hills on every side and white chairs in rows and an arbor covered in expensive flowers. It’s perfect in every way, just warm enough in the sun, and everyone who sits in the perfect white chairs looks equally perfect.

I sit up straight next to Nico and plaster a soft smile on my face.

And I hold it togetherduring the ceremony.

And I hold it together during the cocktail hour, when three people from work ask how I’ve been. And I smile, sayfine, and smile again, not letting the mask slip.

I hold it together as the champagne goes around for the toast. I take a glass and put my hand on the waiter’s elbow.

He eyes me questioningly, and I pour the entire glass of champagne down my throat in a gulp before grabbing another off his tray.

“Oh, ho, ho.” Nico grabs the glass out of my hand and nods to the waiter, sending him away. “Let’s slow down there, buddy.”

I roll my eyes as the bubbles fizz and my body warms from the inside out.

I hold it together and I hold it together and I hold it together.

Nico stays close. Not touching me. Not even once. He stays close the way you stay close to something you are trying to keep safe and fear might run away from you. But I don’t. I just sit at the table where the place cards saySimmonsandSimmons Guest.

Nico makes small talk with the other people at our table, so I don’t have to, while simultaneously paying off the waiter with the champagne tray to stay away from me. My positive, happy smile mask is starting to droop when I see Richard from across the room. He frowns, but before he can make his way over to us, he gets intercepted.Perfectly intercepted.

Another conversation I don’t want to have avoided. At least temporarily.

“Max.”

Just to have to face the worst of all conversations.

Drat.

Patrick’s voice is warm, and careful.

I turn. He’s in a grey suit, tie slightly loose, and he looks happy. Genuinely happy.

Which is the right thing for the groom to be, I think, and yet it still manages to land strangely in my stomach with the champagne.

“Hi, Patrick,” I say with my fake smile. “Congratulations.”

He opens his mouth, glances over my shoulder at the back of Nico’s head beside me and something shifts in his expression before he rubs the back of his neck and looks down.

Recognition.

Relief?

“Callan, glad you could make it,” he says, and his voice has a forced genuine tone to it. “Means a lot.”

Silence.

The champagne turns in my stomach.

Nico turns to face Patrick fully before biting out, “The fuck you say to me?”

I whip my hand behind me and slap Nico in the chest.

Patrick’s face scrunches together and he takes a micro step backwards at the aggression in Nico’s voice, but also in clear shock and embarrassment.