Chapter 13: Table Fourteen

Dawson held out his phone in the diner doorway, and I took it from him.

It was a photo of a printed run of show for the reception.

Table 14 sat beside the service door, and only one name was assigned to it: N. Hargrove.

Under the chart was a timetable in Margo's neat capitals.

7:30, cousin brings up the Charleston photo at table 14.

7:40, N. reacts. Phones out.

7:45, officer in lobby escorts N. out.

8:00, toast.

"She wants me screaming again," I said.

"She wants it on video, with a police officer in it this time," Dawson said.

"How did you get this?"

"The Biltmore's banquet manager sent her the proof.

Her assistant copied me, because I'm still the groom on the host line."

He said the word groom flatly, and he didn't look at me.

"Forward it to my email and to Constance's lawyer," I said. "Then go home."

"Is this one of the days?"

"No," I said. "Go home, Dawson."

He went. He didn't argue, and he didn't look back.

Outside, the rain had thinned to a mist.

Sam stood under the diner awning with his hands in his fleece pockets.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

It was my mother. Constance is keeping me overnight for cards. Do not wait up. I like him. Mom.

I read it twice and put the phone away.

"I can take you to dinner," Sam said. "The counter was a plan, not a requirement."

"Take me home."

He drove with both hands on the wheel and said nothing, and I watched his forearms the whole way.

My apartment was on the third floor, and the stairwell light had been out for a month.

I got my key in the lock on the second try.

Inside, the kitchen was dark except for the clock on the stove.

I turned around and put my back against the door, and Sam stopped an arm's length away.

"You asked me if it was all right," I said. "I whispered yes. I didn't say the rest."

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Made Her His Bride to Punish Me for Jealousy from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.