Chapter 10
NATE
When Grayson pulled Vivienne’s champagne flute out of her hand after his idea of dedicating a toast to us, I thought he was joking. A type of emotional edging, if you’d like. But as I watch him search our surroundings for the closest knife, I realize he’s dead serious.
“Why are you doing this?” I stand over his shoulder, narrowing my eyes at him in the hopes it’ll magically put a stop to his antics. “You know what I’ve been through these past few weeks. This will only add to the plate of shit I need to worry about.”
My best friend of twenty-seven years doesn’t say a thing, only letting the mischievous grin on his face grow.
“This is what people normally do at engagement parties.” He swipes a nearby butter knife from a carefully arranged dinner table.
“They give speeches, honoring the lovely bride and groom to be.”
For cruel reasons, he holds the utensil up to the light, watching the reflections dance along its pristine surface. It’s a taunt more than anything, I realize. That no matter what I do, I can’t stop him.
Little does he know, I’ve already chosen my weapon of choice. And if he keeps going at it, there will be no toast—just a restaurant turned into a crime scene.
The murder weapon, you may ask?
The very thing he’s using to torture me.
“What are you trying to prove, Grayson?” I follow him as he squeezes his way past guests.
Curious heads turn in our direction, and eyebrows raise at the sudden commotion.
I smile politely, trying to suppress my anger in an attempt not to bring more attention to Grayson’s tomfoolery. But it’s harder said than done when so many of the attendees are business associates.
“What. Are. You. Doing?” I whisper loud enough for only him to hear when he comes to a stop at the front of the room.
He turns on his feet, meeting my gaze for the first time since his foolishness started. “Proving that you’re attracted to your fake fiancée.”
I rear back in surprise.
There’s no look of playfulness, no amusement written anywhere on his face. He’s dead serious—something that isn’t usual for the two of us. Our friendship is rooted in teasing and laughter, and while we have our more thoughtful moments, they never come out in public like this.
“I’m not attracted to my fake fiancée,” I reiterate, as I did the day I first spoke to him about this. “And if I were, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”
Grayson rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Nate.
Possessive actions aside, I saw the way you were staring at that poor girl’s lips all night.
Unsurprisingly, I also caught her checking you out as well when she thought you weren’t looking.
You told me about the deal you two made, and if you keep going at it this way, you aren’t making it out in one piece. ”
His words leave a bitter taste in my mouth, not because they’re false, but because they’re painfully true.
I promised Vivienne that I wouldn’t see her as anything more than a friend, yet here I was letting my eyes linger on her for longer than acceptable throughout the night.
There’s a reason I didn’t tell her how beautiful she looked at the apartment—and that was one of them. Grayson is just making sure I know my place, even if it’s in his own sick and twisted way.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, choosing to act clueless.
“Whatever you say.” Grayson gives me a pointed look. “But that isn’t going to stop me from making that toast.”
“Don’t you dare.” I narrow my eyes at him.
“Look around you.” He gestures to our surroundings. “You’re in a room filled with business associates, and the paparazzi outside waiting for their money shot. Don’t you think people are questioning where your family is? A toast from the best friend is the least you can give them.”
I groan, knowing Grayson is every bit right.
In interviews, I always mention how close my family is. That my “rise to fame and fortune” as they liked to call it, doesn’t impact the time I spend with them. If anything, it makes me want to see them more.
Well…that was before I found myself in this predicament and started dodging their calls.
It’s bad. I know it’s bad. But I can’t answer knowing the interrogation that lies on the other side.
My parents have always been my biggest supporters—the first to know when something major happens in my life and career. Announcing my engagement to them out of the blue would not seem believable. Not to mention, I’m ashamed of them finding out how low I would stoop to fix my reputation.
The repeated clinking of glass pulls me out of my thoughts, and my head whips in the direction of Grayson. All eyes are directed toward the center of the room, ears wide open for what he’s about to say next.
“Good evening, everyone.” My best friend puts on a dazzling smile as he pans the crowd. “I’d first like to thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to celebrate the impending marriage of our lovely Vivienne and Nate.”
Loud clapping and cheering erupt from the back of the room, and soon everyone joins in.
I glance toward the source of the noise to find Sutton, the redhead who joined in on my conversation with Evelyn back at Vivienne’s place. Apparently, she’s the influencer who brought Vivienne to the event that kick-started this all.
“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Grayson Vale, the groom’s childhood best friend and soon-to-be best man.”
I stifle a snort. Being my best man may have been a given before, but it’s certainly no longer looking that way now.
“With the little personal information of Nate online, you may be wondering how these two lovebirds really met—not the story they’re feeding you in the media…
” He takes a deliberate pause. “It’s easy to get swept up in internet stances when we all know they’re never fully rooted in the truth.
And it’s our role, as critical thinkers, especially in the field of science, to determine the reliability of our sources before coming to conclusions. ”
This earns Grayson more than a few nods from the crowd. And for once, I’m hoping someone records this speech and leaks it online—whether it proves anything to those who wish for my downfall, I still think it’s worth hearing.
“As much as I’d love to give every detail, you guys would be here all night. However, I would like to say that their love story, despite being long and complicated, demonstrates that some things are meant to be, with fate prevailing against all adversity.”
I survey the room, noting how everyone seems so engrossed with Grayson’s words. They cling to them as one would with gold—eyes wide, ears open, and attention fully captured. With one exception—Vivienne, whose brows are furrowed as she listens in.
It’s then that I realize that I accidentally left her behind in my pursuit of Grayson, but there’s no turning back now. The crowd is densely packed around each circular table, with nowhere to move.
Big brown eyes land on me, brimming with worry, and I give her a nod of acknowledgment in an attempt to comfort her.
To no surprise, that doesn’t seem to work very well, and she takes a first step in my direction.
The crowd parts on command, and for the millionth time tonight, I truly get the chance to admire her.
From the bloodred lipstick I’m almost certain she applied to taunt me to the long brown waves hitting her waist, and the dainty collarbones that poke out from the neckline of her bright white dress—she looks nothing short of radiant.
Grayson is right—this isn’t going to end well for me if I keep going this way.
“I’ll keep it short and sweet,” he continues.
“No number of words and stories can quantify the love Nate and Vivienne have for each other. For two individuals whose careers are rooted in science and precision, I can assure you there’s nothing calculated about the two of them.
It’s quite the opposite, actually. A love like theirs is wild, unexpected—the kind books are written about, and the ones movies portray.
So let’s all cheer to the happy couple!” Grayson raises Vivienne’s champagne glass, prompting the guests to follow suit.
A server passes by with a tray of flutes, and I grab two, keeping one for myself and handing the other to Vivienne as she stops right next to me.
Small bubbles fizz at the surface of the golden liquid, and as much as I’d like to throw it back at once to ease my worries, I settle on small sips.
The night is almost over. I’ll be back in my apartment soon enough, but it’s the unexpected that’s keeping me on my toes.
Grayson is a wild card. Sutton also seems a little chaotic.
And with the way Melanie marches to the front of the room, I can’t help but think she’s concocted some new plan in her mind.
My cousin juts her palm toward Grayson. He eyes her suspiciously before handing over the knife, which she clinks against her own glass.
“Thank you for the lovely speech, Grayson, but there’s one last thing we need to do to seal this night. Everyone, please welcome the lovely couple up for a dance!” Melanie announces with a too graceful smile.
Champagne gets lodged in my throat as the crowd claps loudly, but the only thing I can think about is trying not to die. Mostly from embarrassment over how that last went for us—never mind the obstructed airway.
“I think our couple is a little nervous to dance,” Grayson says on Melanie’s behalf.
The words my best friend utters fill me with ease, and all previous threats of murder are wiped from my mind. I’m mentally promoting him back to best man when he yells, “So let’s cheer them on for a kiss!”
Vivienne’s head snaps up in my direction, eyes locking onto mine in a panic.
None of it was supposed to happen this way.
Despite the number of times I’ve admired her lips tonight, I was never meant to feel them on mine. Plus, we made it clear last week that we couldn’t dance. I can only assume this kiss will be just as awkward.