Chapter 8: Dinner for Two Tables Away

I showed Bruce the church receipt on Friday morning, over toast.

He read it standing at the counter with his bandaged hand tucked under his arm.

Then he read the date at the bottom twice, and set it down very gently.

"Keep this somewhere safe," he said.

"I'm going to frame it."

"Not yet. We use it at the right time."

"When's the right time?"

"When Travis is standing next to Whitney, and she's holding a bouquet, and the whole church is watching him."

I looked at him.

"That's the nastiest thing you've said to me."

"Is it a problem?"

"It's the best idea I've heard all week."

His chipped tooth showed in a quick, startled grin.

"Travis and Whitney eat at Marchetti's every Friday at eight," he said.

"He's done it since college. Wear something good."

At eight o'clock I wore a green dress I'd bought for the rehearsal dinner.

It had a low back, and I had never worn it in front of anyone.

Bruce stood at the bottom of the stairs in a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

His eyes went down once and came back up. He didn't say anything.

"Is it too much?"

"It's exactly enough," Bruce said, and his voice was lower than usual.

Marchetti's had candles in red glass and a host who recognized Bruce and led us past the bar.

Travis and Whitney were at a round table by the window. They were two tables away from ours.

Whitney had a ring on her left hand. It was bigger than mine, and it didn't have any engraving.

Keep reading free with an account. Start His Ex Wore My Ring, So I Married His Rival Instead from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.