Page 42 of Face Off
“She cried because Briggs called her his beautiful bride.”
“Also reasonable.”
“She cried when Rider told her the flowers looked nice.”
“He rarely offers enthusiasm. She understood the value.”
Ryan looked at me. “You’re defending all the crying?”
“I designed her dress. If she doesn’t sob when she sees herself in it, I’ll consider the entire year a professional failure.”
“She’ll cry.”
“I know.”
His gaze moved toward my hands resting around the glass. “You finished it.”
“The dress?”
He nodded.
“Three weeks ago. Then I changed the sleeves, reconstructed part of the bodice, replaced the lace near the waist, and nearly committed murder when the alterations team suggested adding more tulle.”
“That sounds finished.”
“It’s emotionally finished.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means nobody is permitted to have another opinion except Bliss.”
“That sounds more like you.”
I looked at him. “You remember what I sound like?”
Ryan turned the bottle between his fingers again. “I remember everything.”
My heart reacted before I could stop it. I nodded and drank instead of asking what everything included.
Ryan’s gaze shifted toward my vodka. “Your wine sucked.”
The change in subject made me laugh. “You drank enough of it.”
“Because I liked drinking wine with you.”
“You ordered it for me thirty seconds ago.”
“I remembered the name. That isn’t an endorsement.”
“Wine sucks in general.”
His eyes narrowed with interest. “You finally admitted it.”
“I’ve developed taste.”
“You’re drinking plain vodka over ice.”
“It doesn’t pretend to have notes of blackberry, leather, oak, and emotional superiority.”
