The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient #2)(26)

She pointed to the empty chair next to her. “This person is missing.”

“That’s Quan’s seat. He told me he can’t make it. That’s not it.” But he stared at the empty chair for a good minute, saying nothing. Something was wrong. She could tell by the way he repeatedly flipped through the pages of his book with his thumb on the corner. Fliiip. Fliiip. Fliiip. She’d never seen him fidget like this.

What could possibly be missing from this perfect wedding?

Waitstaff served salad followed by an entree consisting of a hunk of bloody meat and a lobster’s tail. Where was the delicious lobster head and all the chewy legs? She was stabbing the lobster meat with her fork and prying the shell off with her spoon—people acted like they’d die if they touched the food with their fingers—when the bride, groom, and entire wedding party approached their table. Everyone stood up to toast the new couple, and Kh?i pressed a champagne flute into her hands.

Vy and all the cousins held their glasses up. “Congratulations, Derrick and Sara.”

They drank champagne and awwwed when the couple kissed. As the sweet bubbles fizzed on Esme’s tongue, she peered at Kh?i over the rim of her glass. He’d exchanged his champagne flute for his book and was flipping the pages again. Fliiip. Fliiip. Fliiip.

Did he still think something was missing?

Sara, the bride, separated from her husband and approached Kh?i. She’d changed into a red wedding aó dài with gold embroidered dragons and phoenixes, but Esme missed the white wedding gown with its billowing skirts. If she ever married, she’d wear her wedding gown the whole time, even for dancing. Forget tradition.

“Thanks for coming. I know you don’t like weddings,” Sara said.

Kh?i continued flipping the pages of his book. “No problem.”

Sara smiled wryly. “I remember how when we went to weddings when we were little, you and Andy used to hide in the bathroom during the dancing and play video games.”

His fingers froze on the book, and he went unnaturally still. “That’s what it is. It’s Andy.”

Sara drew in a quick breath. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been wondering all night what’s wrong with this wedding,” Kh?i said. “It’s Andy. He should be here.”

After a second of suspended belief, his cousin’s face collapsed, and fat teardrops tracked down her face, ruining her carefully applied makeup. “Why would you—What can I—How can I—”

She covered her mouth and fled the room. The groom looked at Kh?i for the longest moment like there were things he wanted to say, but in the end, he raced after his wife without a word. All the people from their table stared at each other, stunned speechless.

“Find me when you’re ready to leave.” Kh?i tapped his book against his thigh once and turned to leave.

Esme stepped toward him. “I’ll go with—”

“No, stay, dance, have fun. I’ll be out there.” He waved toward the exit, swiped the hair out of his eyes, and left.

Standing woodenly, she watched as he wove between the round tables and exited the ballroom. When the door swayed shut behind him, she sank into her seat, which was now between two empty chairs.

What had just happened? Why was he leaving? Who was Andy? Was he Sara’s ex-boyfriend, someone Kh?i preferred over the groom? She wanted to ask the others at the table, but they spoke among themselves in quiet tones, avoiding her questioning looks.

How did he expect her to enjoy the wedding alone? Was she supposed to dance with some random man? Maybe that middle-aged guy at the next table with three beers, a red leather jacket, and shoulder-length curls? She pressed a hand to her forehead. She didn’t want to dance with Asian Michael Jackson. She only wanted to dance with Kh?i.

She pushed away from the table. “I’m going to find him.”

Vy shook her head. “He might not want—”

Esme didn’t hear the rest of what his sister said. She rushed after Kh?i, but she searched and searched and couldn’t find him anywhere. He wasn’t in the hotel’s opulent lobby, the sitting rooms, or even the valet area out front. Was he reading in a bathroom somewhere while she was searching for him until her feet throbbed? She was about to knock on the men’s room door, but a sign on a nearby door caught her eye.

It read Kieu-Ly Changing Suite. Maybe he was in there? When she found the door unlocked, she let herself in.

The space inside looked like a disaster zone, complete with flats of Coca-Cola, giant bags of chips, and shoes all over the floor. Piles of clothes took up all the sitting space on the small sofa. No Kh?i in sight.

She spied an open door on the far wall and picked her way through the wreckage to check what was on the other side.

And lost her breath.

The bride’s wedding gown hung from the curtain bar above a tall window. White gossamer fabric caught the soft light just right. Before Esme knew what she was doing, she was floating across the changing room and running her fingertips over the cool skirts. She doubted she would ever wear anything so nice, not even at her own wedding, if she ever got married. She’d heard people whispering that it was a Vera Wang gown and cost ten thousand dollars.

But as she stood in the empty room, it occurred to her maybe she could wear a dress like this. And she didn’t need to get married to do it. She could wear this dress. Right now. She could do it quickly, just so she knew what it was like, and then continue searching the hotel for Kh?i. No one had to know.