Blitzed(52)

"Yes, she's my daughter," I confirm. "Laurie."

"I see," Cory says. "You know, she looks a lot like you. She's got the same cute smile."

"Thanks. What about you? Have you found someone yet?"

Cory laughs and sips at his mixed drink, shaking his head. “There's no way I'm ready to settle down yet."

I laugh and shake my head. "So how are you enjoying the party?"

"This is awesome," Cory says, becoming a little more serious. "I just got done talking to Troy. We've kept up a little since high school, email and phone calls and such, and I saw him play once last season when the Hawks played the Dons, but this is the first time since after our freshmen year in college that I got to sit down and talk with him in person—he’s gotten huge."

"You're telling me," I reply, and Cory gives me a knowing look. "Don't go there, Cory."

He nods, then smirks. "Well, no matter what, Troy just made my quarter. He asked me about how work's going, and when I told him that so far I'm doing well, beating the market, at least, he nods and asks for a business card. That crazy SOB tells me he wants to take half . . . half of his salary and have me invest it for him. Now, I know that still leaves him stupid levels of money, but Jesus, Whitney. I just got handed what, a million dollars a year to invest?"

"And how do you feel about it?" I ask. "Because if I remember you right, Cory, when you start talking like this, that's the time you're getting worried."

"Oh, I am," Cory says, smiling. "But a good kind of worried. Trust me, Whitney, even if Troy just plays out his rookie contract and doesn't give me a dime after that, I'm going to make him rich for life by the time he's twenty-seven. One funny thing, though."

"What's that?"

"He told me to give him options about setting up a blind trust fund. Apparently, he has someone he wants to save for. Wonder who that might be?"

"All right, Cory, you never were an idiot. Keep it under your hat for a while at least? Please? It's important to me."

Cory nods, and I give him another hug.

He leaves, and we start the food portion of the reception. The tables are smaller than I thought they'd be, small circles meant for only four or five, so I'm sitting with my old cheer teammate, Colette, and her boyfriend, some guy originally from Portland who honestly is not all that interesting.

What is interesting is when they bring out the big wedding cake, a four-tier monstrosity that towers nearly three feet in the air with all of the decorations, and Dani and Pete get up to speak.

They’re finishing up their little speech, and Dani laughs as her eyes meet mine over the crowd. "Thank you. To my friends, to my family . . . thank you. And I hope that every one of you . . ." her eyes blink and she looks me in the eyes directly. "I hope you find love like ours."

The applause starts again, growing to thunderous levels as Dani and Pete slice open the cake, serving out slices to the front table, where Pete and Dani's parents are sitting. The DJ starts the music, and it's time to dance. Pete takes Dani out to the center of the huge patio that the tables ring and brings her into his arms, dancing beautifully as they sway to the music. The first song is about halfway finished when they split to dance with their parents, and the crowd applauds when the song is finished.

I'm clapping along with everyone else when Troy stands up from his chair, which is on the other side of the patio from where I'm sitting, crossing the dance floor. There is a noticeable hum in the assembled group, about a hundred or so people in total, and even the DJ falters as Troy first stops at Dani and Pete, giving both of them a hug before he whispers in Dani's ear. She nods and goes over to the DJ to say something to him. My eyes are fixed on Troy, though, as he crosses the rest of the patio to stop in front of me, his sapphire blue eyes full of emotion. "Whitney, may I have this dance?"

"I'd love to," I say, taking his hand. The majority of the crowd knows our history, and they are nearly silent as Troy and I walk hand in hand to the center of the patio, his left hand lifting my arm while his right hand rests on my waist. The music starts, and as John Legend sings about love, we move together, closer and closer until I put my arms around his neck and both of his hands rest on my waist. The music fades away, and I'm not caring about the crowd anymore as I pull Troy's head down. Only one thing is important in the world. When our lips meet, I'm temporarily startled when I realize that not only has nobody else joined us for this dance, but now we're getting nearly as much applause as what greeted Dani and Pete.

We're suddenly being swarmed, Dani hugging me closely. "I'm glad," she whispers, smiling. "This was the best gift you could have ever given me. I love you, Whitney."

"I love you too, Sis. So does that mean I get to keep the German food processor I bought you guys?"

"Oh no, I'm still keeping that," Dani says, and the music interrupts us as another song comes on, a faster tune that brings even the parents out of their seats as we shift into full party mode. The music spans generations, as you'd expect a wedding party to do, but Troy and I are inseparable the whole time, dancing and going off to get drinks and some cake before dancing again. When the sun goes all the way down, the DJ slows it down one last time, and as Elvis sings about how he can't help falling in love, Troy and I move slowly on the dance floor together, our foreheads touching and our arms around each other.