10. Hildy #2
“Not how I’d describe it.” She turned to face him, watching as he absorbed the impact of her dress, from the strapless bodice to the flirty little skirt.
Walter had changed too, into a loose button-down the color of green grapes.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him in short sleeves.
Of course Hildy knew in theory that he had forearms, but it was different witnessing the actual shape of them, with the skin and the hair.
Blah blah blah, muscles etcetera; plenty of people had them. “Where were you anyway?”
“Doing some background research.” His tone was deliberately vague, as if that would keep her from digging.
“About what?”
“The wine.”
She paused in case he wanted to come up with a better answer. “You have never been a bigger nerd than you are right now.”
“I’m sorry, some of us didn’t grow up drinking wine at every meal.”
“That’s too bad. It was really soothing for me as a toddler. Cheerios and Chardonnay. I took the best naps.”
He frowned, but it looked less like disapproval than repressed amusement. “What if we both do it?”
“Do what?” Hildy asked.
“The story.”
“About my wedding?” Fiona asked, peeling her cheek off her fiancé’s shoulder.
“And the castle,” Walter added, in case anyone had forgotten his first allegiance was to Maude.
“We can’t work together.” Hildy swung a finger between herself and Walter.
“Who said anything about working together?”
“You want to work against each other?” The emphasis landed a little wrong. Hildy told herself no one else had noticed, but that didn’t explain Walter’s flushed cheeks.
“We’ll both do a story,” he said, voice gruffer than usual. “Fiona can choose the one she likes best.”
Hildy couldn’t seem to stop shaking her head. That was how intensely she disagreed. “It’s a ridiculous idea.”
“I don’t know,” Fiona mused. “We did that with the invitations. I had to see them side by side to pick my favorite font…”
“You’re not afraid of a little competition, are you?” Walter’s face was all innocence—if you overlooked the wicked gleam in his eyes. He was manipulating her and they both knew it.
And yet she was incapable of ignoring his challenge.
“Me? Of course not.” Hildy didn’t want to overplay her hand with a fake laugh, so she added a bemused huff instead. “I wouldn’t want Fiona to settle for less than the best.”
“Looks like we’re on the same page,” Walter said. “For once.”
“If you think you can see it to the end. Follow-through hasn’t always been your strong suit.”
His jaw tightened. “When I commit to something, I’m all in.”
Robbie glanced between them, as if he was trying to puzzle out the smallest row of letters on the eye chart at the optometrist’s office.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Fiona asked Hildy, with a not-so-subtle tip of the chin in Walter’s direction.
She pasted on her brightest smile. Look at me, No-Drama Hildy! “It’s totally fine. Don’t give it a second thought. I’m certainly not going to.”
“Oh good!” Fiona said. “It makes me happy when people get along.”
“She’s a lover not a fighter,” Robbie confirmed. He tapped the side of her glass. “Time for a refill?”
“I thought you’d never ask!”
While the lovebirds wended their way to the nearest wine station, Walter rounded on Hildy.
“You can stop looking so pleased with yourself,” she snapped. “This doesn’t change anything. It’s been my story from the beginning, and it’s going to stay that way.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
“Maybe you should just give up now. Save yourself the embarrassment of being sent home empty-handed.”
“Why, Hildy, it almost feels like you don’t want me here.”
“How perceptive. Have you been working on your communication skills?”
“Are you sulking because I outplayed you?” He leaned closer, daring her to deny it.
“The week is young.” She flicked her hair, drawing his attention to her bare shoulders. Suddenly aware of how close they were standing, Hildy edged back a step. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”
“My—you mean Maude?”
The hesitation piqued her interest. “Do you have another one?”
“I just don’t think of her as being defined by our relationship.”
“How enlightened of you.”
“She’s working,” Walter said, ignoring the taunt.
“So am I.” It was supposed to be Hildy’s exit line, but he spoiled it by following her.
“Working your way to the wine table?”
“For research.”
He lowered his voice. “You’re not supposed to wear perfume at a wine tasting.”
“Stop sniffing me, Burns.”
“I’m not.”
“And I’m not wearing perfume.” Scented body oil didn’t count. She held her arms out, wrists together. “Want to make a citizen’s arrest? I assume you travel with handcuffs.” Hildy let her raised brows paint the rest of the picture.
Walter cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t you be asking people who they’re wearing? Or did you already do the brand-name census?”
“Yes, because my goal has always been to make Life, Styled the print equivalent of QVC. One product placement after another.”
“Heeeey.” Corinne came to a stop in front of them, arms wide. “What are you two numbskulls doing together?”
“Nothing.” Hildy answered too quickly, like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar. “I’m going to taste some wines.”
“Me too,” Walter announced.
Corinne shook her head. “I don’t think so, kids. We’ve been down this road before, and we all know where it leads. How about we call it a night?”
“I’ll go to bed when he goes to bed.” Hildy jerked a thumb at Walter, who snorted.
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to pass.”
“Unbelievable,” Hildy groaned, watching him saunter toward a group of bridesmaids with the smugness of someone who’d just gotten the last word. “Where does he get off?”
“Not something you need to worry about,” Corinne said, dragging her in the opposite direction.