Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Sinclair
I barely touched my dinner. It smelled divine and judging by the way everyone sitting at my table ate every last bite, it must have tasted incredible.
My stomach wouldn’t have any of it.
I tried a small piece of chicken, but that didn’t sit well.
I couldn’t tell if it had anything to do with all the champagne I consumed or if Jameson was to blame.
I caught sight of him out of the corner of my eye midway through the appetizer course. He had a forkful of perfectly sautéed scallop primed at his lips.
When we locked eyes, he didn’t do anything but stare me down before the food disappeared into his mouth.
Then his attention was diverted to the people he’s seated with. I can’t see all of them, but I know that his best friend from high school, Kalon Beaumont, is sitting next to him.
Kalon is another person who was on my I-doubt-I’ll-ever-see-him-again list.
I’m scrunching that list into a ball and tossing it into the trash before the night ends.
“The bride and groom are going to cut the cake soon,” Molly announces. “I heard that each layer is a different flavor. There are seven layers, so…yum.”
More like yuck.
I love cake, but not when my stomach is filled with a sea of champagne and little else.
“I should call it a night, “ I whisper to Molly. “I think I need to go home.”
“Yeah, no.” She shakes her head. “You’re not going anywhere until midnight.”
“What?” My brow scrunches in confusion as I glance at the silver watch on my wrist. “That’s not for another three hours.”
She grabs hold of my hand to bend my wrist to get a clear view of my watch. “Three hours and seven minutes, Sinclair. Dwight and Donna are only getting married once, and we can’t miss a single moment of it.”
“We saw the ceremony,” I remind her. “We sat through dinner and Dwight’s speech…”
“And Donna’s too,” she adds. “We toasted to the happy couple. Some of us toasted a few too many times.”
I playfully raise a hand since I’m the guilty party. “You can never toast true love too many times.”
As she studies my face, her eyes narrow. “You don’t talk about love like that. Are you drunk?”
“Tipsy,” I snap back. “I feel a little tipsy, but I’m far from inbraided. No, I meant…that I’m not inbited. Dammit. I’m not inedbrided.”
The last word does not sound the way I intended. I must have missed a vowel or two in the pronunciation.
“You’re trying to say inebriated.” Molly pats my hand. “Which is a fancy word for drunk, and that’s what you are.”
She follows that up with a tap of her finger to the tip of my nose.
I try to swat her hand away, but I miss, which only serves to prove her point.
She lets out a giggle. “I’ve sobered up, Sin. It’s your turn now. I’ll grab you some coffee.”
“I have coffee at home,” I say. “Why don’t we go there? You can say hi to Dudley.”
The mention of my Yorkshire Terrier brings a broad smile to Molly’s face. “I haven’t seen Duds in forever. Let’s make a deal.”
I’m all for any deal that gets me out of here and away from Jameson as soon as possible.
My hand pops up. “Deal.”
Molly glances at it before taking it in hers to squeeze it. “You don’t know the deal yet, so we can’t shake on it.”
That’s the same damn rule she’s followed faithfully since we met.
I nod. “What’s the deal?”
“I need to see the first dance.” Her eyes light up. “It’s my favorite part of any wedding. I promise that after we watch them dance, we can leave.”
Guilt grabs ahold of me.
Molly is having a great time. She’s chatted up every person at our table and a few people who have wandered past.
Bribing her with the promise of time with my dog is selfish.
“I’ll stay for the first dance,” I assure her. “After that, I’m leaving, but you don’t have to go with me.”
She kisses the top of my hand before she releases it. “Friends don’t let friends wander the streets of Manhattan alone while they’re drunk.”
I bark out a laugh. “I wouldn’t be wandering anywhere. I’ll order a rideshare. That will take me straight home.”
Molly pushes back from the table. “That doesn’t work for me. We’ll leave together after the first dance. I’m getting you a cup of coffee. Don’t move.”
I glance toward where Jameson was sitting, but his chair is now empty.
I scan the room until I spot him standing next to a table less than twenty feet from where I am.
That’s too close for comfort, so I slide to my feet and head out to the terrace because I’m going to do everything in my power to avoid talking to Jameson tonight.