Charming as Puck(35)

It’s a small wedding, no more than seventy-five people, and the groom immediately strolls over to greet us. “Josh, Caroline and I are so glad you could make it.”

He’s an older gentleman, maybe in his fifties, and as Josh shakes his boss’s hand, his arm goes tense beneath my fingers.

“Wouldn’t miss it, Bob,” he says, though his tone is tighter than I expected.

I guess maybe Josh doesn’t like his boss.

“This is Kami,” he adds, extracting my hand from his elbow and wrapping an arm tightly around me.

Bob’s graying brows lift as he surveys me. “Well. Hello there, Kami. I was…unaware that Josh was dating anyone.”

“Seemed prudent to keep her under wraps,” Josh replies with something heavy laced in his words and a smile that has more bite than I’ve ever seen on him.

Not that I’ve seen him often, but he’s always smiling when I see him washing his truck with his golden retriever watching on.

Bob laughs nervously, and the bride—a woman closer to my age than Bob’s age—rushes over in an ivory scoop-neck satin gown. There’s nary a jiggle in her slender thighs under the tight material, and I don’t think she’s wearing Spanx to keep her stomach that flat.

“Josh. You made it.” She kisses him on both cheeks, then turns to me and takes both of my hands in hers. There’s something vaguely familiar about her high cheek bones, the thick blond hair, and the upturned nose. “Oh, my, aren’t you precious. I’m so glad you could be here for Josh today. I know this has been hard on him, but when it’s love, it’s love.”

She kisses both my cheeks too, then waves to someone behind us. “Oh, Aunt Marge! Excuse us. The seating chart is over by the door.”

Bob hustles to keep up with Caroline, and I shoot Josh a curious look. “You know your boss’s fiancée?”

“We dated once,” he says briefly, and I suddenly realize that’s why she’s familiar.

She was at his house more than once when I stopped by to say hi to Muffy and Aunt Hilda over the summer.

“Once?” I press.

“Let’s go figure out where we’re sitting.”

We’ve been relegated to one of the back tables, which is still an awesome view of the tank, because there’s no bad view when the whales and eels and schools of every kind of ocean fish imaginable swim past the huge wall of windows. I take a seat beside a bird-like woman in black who already has three empty drink glasses in front of her.

“Get you something before they start?” Josh asks, dipping low so he can whisper directly in my ear.

“Ah, a glass of red, please.”

He disappears after bestowing a heated smile on me, and the woman in black with the salt and pepper hair gives me a once-over before following Josh with her eyes. “Can’t believe she gave up that for an old cheating geezer.”

I snap my jaw shut when I realize I’m gaping. Because it sounded like— The woman chuckles. “So you’re the ringer.” She slides glossy eyes over me. I’m starting to feel like a slab of steak in a meat counter. “The boy has taste, I’ll give him that. Wait until you see my—hiccup!—date.” She lowers her voice and leans in until I can smell the gin on her breath. “He’s twenty. And I paid him to give me a lap dance halfway through the ceremony. Those college boys will do anything for a couple grand. Don’t tell—hic!—Bob that that’s where his alimony’s going, mm-kay?”

So, it’s going to be one of those weddings. “Your secret’s safe with me,” I tell her.

She winks. “I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Josh returns with an easier smile and two glasses of wine. “Mrs. Smith,” he says to the woman.

She snorts. “Call me Sarah. Mrs. Smith is about to be that floozy. No offense.”

He darts an uneasy glance at me, but I just give him an amused I know what’s going on smile.

“None taken,” he tells her.

Another man, this one tall, olive-skinned, with short dark hair and a suit that seems to be custom-fit, approaches the table and pulls a chair away from the black linen tablecloth. “Water for you, Sarah.”

“Honey, say it in Spanish and use that accent,” she says.

He obliges, his youthful face lighting up as she slips him a hundred-dollar bill.

Bob’s watching, but I’m pretty sure he missed the money under the table.

“So, your ex is marrying your boss?” I murmur to Josh.

“Prefer to think of it as him saving me from making a big mistake.” He’s smiling, but his voice isn’t.

Yep.

Definitely that kind of wedding.

“Don’t suppose you want to make out?” he asks while Sarah’s date—whom she’s calling Enrique, but who is apparently actually named Sean—pulls her up for an impromptu slow-dance.

Without music.

Before the ceremony starts.

Actually— “Is this the whole wedding, or just the reception?” I ask.

“The whole fucking wedding,” he replies on a sigh.

I scope out the rest of the wedding guests and decide Bob and Caroline aren’t so much popular as they are generous, because nobody seems to be interested in much more than staring at the fish and whispering to each other.