Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(11)

Then slammed straight into Victor, the asshole’s, chest.

Her drink went flying, soaking the man’s dress shirt. The glass hit the floor but, surprisingly, didn’t shatter.

Once again, her lack of grace coupled with humiliation, and Shannon found herself apologizing. “I am so sorry.” She reached behind her, past a laughing Justin, to the stack of napkins. She dabbed Victor’s chest. “I didn’t see you.”

“I’m fine.” He took napkins from her hands and worked the moisture off his shirt while she continued to wipe with napkins Justin handed to her.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

Victor paused. “You pour your drink on me and it’s my fault?”

She kept dabbing, not really hearing his words. “You snuck up on me.”

Justin laughed harder.

Shannon looked over her shoulder. “Stop it.”

That didn’t work.

Victor brushed her hands away.

She stood back and realized half the room was watching them.

Her cheeks warmed. The need to make a graceful exit crushed down.

“Oh, man, little brother. You sure know how to piss off the women.”

Shannon’s head swiveled so fast she saw double. “Little brother?”

Justin’s playful grin had her seeing red. “Didn’t I tell you that?”

No. And if she had a glass with another drink, she might channel her inner frat girl and pour it on him. “It must have slipped your mind.” Somewhere between betting on his own brother’s divorce and spooning out the gossip on the wedding party.

The waitstaff moved in around them and cleaned up the floor.

Mrs. Harkin approached the three of them with a frown. “Oh, dear. What happened?”

Victor smiled at his future mother-in-law. “An accident.”

She frowned. “We’re going to get started. Do you want to find a clean shirt?”

“I’m okay,” he told her, catching Shannon out of the corner of his eye.

“We can wait. You are the groom, after all.”

Mrs. Harkin sure knew how to pour on the sugar.

“Not to worry. It matches the soaking from the rain outside.”

Mrs. Harkin dismissed the worry as quickly as she had adopted it as a problem and moved on. “I see you’ve met the photographer.”

Victor looked Shannon straight in the eye. “Informally, yes.”

“Shannon Wentworth comes highly recommended.”

Victor rocked back on his heels, his eyes glued to her. “Is that so.”

“Yes. Some of her photographs have even made it into celebrity magazines. Isn’t that right, Shannon?”

“Only if the bride and groom want that kind of thing.” Very few did. She stared back.

“Of course we do,” Mrs. Harkin said on behalf of both parties. “Why wouldn’t we want that? Weddings of the rich and famous should be celebrated and shared. Don’t you think, Victor?”

Why was he staring at her?

“We’ll see.”

“Did you know that Shannon was the first lady of California? We’re so lucky to have her working for us. Don’t you think?”

He seemed surprised. “You’re the governor’s wife?”

“Former governor’s ex-wife.”

“I thought you looked familiar,” Justin said beside her.

Victor’s gaze narrowed, his lips lifted a tiny bit. “Interesting.”

What does that mean?

Corrie approached their little party and tucked her hand into the crook of Victor’s arm. She looked like his baby sister, not his future bride. Shannon actually felt a little ill.

“Honey, we need to get started.”

Shannon took that as her cue to leave. “Looks like everything is under control here. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Mrs. Harkin asked.

“No. It’s been a long day. I want to be fresh tomorrow, make sure I take pictures that last a lifetime.” Unlike this marriage.

That’s all the mother of the bride needed to hear. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Corrie pulled Victor away without a second glance.

Justin leaned in and whispered, “Bets are fifty bucks apiece. You in?”

She lifted her hand in a fist. “You’re both assholes. But I’m in.”

Justin bumped his fist with hers and walked to take his place by his brother.





Chapter Five

Maybe the mezcal the hotel provided in the room was a bad idea after all.

The first shot had tasted like motor oil. Not that Shannon had ever drunk motor oil, but she imagined the smoky, oily taste in her mouth was the closest she’d ever come to such a thing. The second shot wasn’t as bad as the first. By the time room service arrived with an order of nachos, the next shots weren’t bad at all. Drinking alone wasn’t something Shannon did on a normal basis, but watching Victor working the room with his fiancée hanging on his arm prompted the mezcal. By the time she fell asleep, Victor and Corrie had left her head . . .

Until the next morning.

She woke up with the sun, even though her head told her to go back to sleep. The time change always made the first night after flying east the hardest. Not to mention the hangover.