Chapter 20
After extracting a promise from the catering manager that he would personally fix the chocolate fountain, Ava left the kitchen,
only to be drawn up short by Jasmine and Michelle lying in wait outside the door.
Ava gave them the warning look she used on her students when she could tell they were about to act foolish. “Please, don’t
do this now.”
Jasmine did her best impression of sad puppy dog eyes—which, considering her profession, was pretty damned good. “Can we hug
you at least?”
Ava swallowed hard. If her cousins hugged her now, she was going to lose her grip on her rapidly fraying self-control. She
wasn’t sure what she’d do—scream, cry, throw up—but either way, it was bound to be messy, and she did not do mess . “I would really prefer that you didn’t. I’m fine .”
“Whatever you say, prima.” Michelle’s tone was dubious. “We totally believe you.”
“I mean it,” Ava said firmly. “Hector is not my problem anymore. And anyway, it’s almost time for the announcement. We should
get going.”
Jasmine tucked her arm through Ava’s. “Marry You” by Bruno Mars played overhead as they wound their way through the crowd.
“Let’s get together after the party,” Jasmine suggested. “We’ll open a few bottles of rosé and talk.”
Ava thought about the text she’d just sent Roman. He hadn’t replied yet, but she knew he was back from Japan, and she was
mentally crossing all her fingers and toes that she’d be with him tonight.
“Maybe,” she hedged, instead of saying that Hector was the absolute last person she wanted to discuss.
On their way to the front of the ballroom, they were stopped every two feet, either by celebrities who wanted a selfie with
Jasmine or family members who kissed Ava’s cheek and murmured, “Lo siento, muchacha.”
It was the longest walk of Ava’s life.
When they finally reached the stage, Jasmine sent Ava a look full of worry. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Ava plastered a serene smile on her face and nodded. “Yes. Totally okay.”
She was not even a little bit okay. She was hanging on by her fingernails.
A quick glance at her phone showed there was no response from Roman. Granted, it had only been a few minutes, but if she knew
she could see him tonight, that would at least give her the strength to get through the rest of this party.
Jasmine’s sister Jillian joined them, and from the corner of her eye, Ava spotted Ashton and his dad, Ignacio.
When Jasmine took the mic and launched into her prepared speech—which included jokes and singing, because Jasmine was nothing if not an entertainer—Ava tucked her phone into her pocket and resorted to her Resting Pleasant Face. She smiled and laughed at the appropriate moments, but she didn’t hear a single thing Jasmine said. It must have been good, though, because her cousin had the assembled partygoers eating out of her hand.
Inside, Ava’s brain pinballed between images of Hector standing at an altar with some nameless, faceless woman, and thoughts
of kissing the hell out of Roman when she next saw him.
She didn’t care about Hector. She really didn’t. It had been two years, for god’s sake. But her family didn’t know she’d moved on. They thought
she was alone. Not that things with Roman were serious, but they had... a companionship, of sorts. It didn’t feel right
to keep him in “booty call” territory now that they were texting about things that had nothing to do with sex. Were they friends
with benefits? That sounded too juvenile, considering their ages and Roman’s level of success, but she couldn’t say they weren’t friends. Fuck buddies? Ugh, that sounded terrible too. Anyway, it didn’t matter what they were called, because the only person
who knew about him was Damaris.
If her family knew about Roman, maybe they wouldn’t be gazing at her now with undisguised pity. I’m not alone! she wanted to scream. I have an amazing, sexy man in my life, and I never even have to pick up his dirty socks . But they didn’t know, and they never would.
So she stood there, pretending everything was okay. Pretending she was happy to be fixing chocolate fountains and painting
patio chairs and watching other people’s children. Pretending to be Old Ava.
For how long? a tiny voice whispered in the back of her brain.
Shut the hell up , she told it viciously.
When she heard Jasmine say her name, Ava stepped forward, smiling and waving. Luckily, she didn’t have to say anything. She fixed her gaze into middle distance until all the people in front of her were a big, shapeless blur.
Beside her, Michelle and Jillian also waved when their names were called. Then Ashton took the mic to introduce his groomsmen.
Ava let her mind drift again, but then Ashton said something that pulled her out of her reverie.
“—my best man, Roman Vázquez!”
Ava’s Resting Pleasant Face cracked as she craned her neck to peer around her cousins.
No, this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t be the same—
Holy shit .
She watched in horror as Roman— her Roman—jogged up to the stage. He held a phone to his ear and muttered something quickly before sliding it into his pocket.
He gave Ashton a quick hug then turned to wave to everyone, flashing that endearing smile she knew so well.
Ashton continued speaking into the mic, but Ava didn’t hear any of it. The music began again, and she guessed that meant the
introduction of the wedding party was over, but there was a rushing in her ears, and inside, her carefully constructed image
of Roman was falling apart.
Roman, her perfect fling, a man who couldn’t possibly have any connection to anyone in her family...
Was Ashton’s best fucking friend .
Not only that, Roman was in the wedding party! As the best man! And she was the maid of honor, which meant...
She was going to have to walk down the fucking aisle next to him.
This was it. They were over. Because it anyone found out she and Roman had something going on, she would once again be left to deal with her family’s criticism when it ended.
God. She could hear it now. Ay bendito. Ava can’t keep a man, even when it’s only about sex .
Not that any of her relatives would use the word “sex.” They’d come up with some kind of inventive euphemism instead. She’d
once heard Titi Nita refer to it as “playing hide the plátano.”
While Ava was quietly dying inside, Roman turned and spotted her. She knew because of the way his face lit up like a kid at
Christmas seeing a pile of toys under the tree. She tried not to let that soften her heart and instead steeled herself for
their interaction. He immediately started toward her, but then she saw confusion pass over his features—probably wondering
why the hell she was here. Before he could say anything, Ava leaped forward with her hand outstretched.
“Hi there,” she said, smiling broadly. “I’m Ava, Jasmine’s cousin. Nice to meet you.”