“What’s your problem, bro?” Dillon asked, tapping him on his shoulder.
Gavin didn’t turn around. “One, I’m not your bro, and two, I told you that I’m having a problem with a woman.”
“He’s just drunk I think,” Emily whispered against Dillon’s ear, her heart thundering in her chest. “Let’s go talk to my sister and Michael.”
After staring at the back of Gavin’s head for a few lingering seconds, Dillon looked to Emily and gave a tight nod. Knees weak with relief, Emily silently released the breath she was holding. As they turned and made their way through the party, she made eye contact with Olivia from across the room where she stood talking with Fallon. Shaking her head, Olivia looked down to the ground and then back to Emily. It was then that Emily realized that she and Gavin’s situation had put all of their friends in a very bad spot—and for this, the unrest in her stomach grew. Trying to push her guilt to the side, she plastered a smile on her face as she walked hand in hand with Dillon through the room, greeting their guests.
After enduring a few minutes of light conversation—namely with guests she barely knew—Emily’s eyes landed on her sister, Lisa, and her husband. Considering the torture the evening had shown thus far, Emily felt slightly at ease as they approached her and Dillon.
A wide friendly smile spread across her brother-in-law’s face as he pulled her in for a hug. “Where’d you run off to before, soon-to-be Mrs. Parker?”
Crossing his arms, Dillon cocked his head to the side after Michael released her from his hold. “Yeah. Where were you actually? My mother said she looked everywhere and couldn’t find you.”
Emily opened her mouth to speak, her heart racing.
“Michael,” Lisa chirped up, glancing at Emily. Her hazel eyes showed a wealth of knowledge. “I told you she went outside for a breath of fresh air.”
Staring at her sister, Emily gave a weak smile and mentally thanked her for the save.
Appearing confused by his wife’s statement, Michael ran a hand through his tousled brown hair. “Hmm, maybe you did,” he laughed, holding up his martini. “It’s quite possible that I’ve had one too many of these.”
“Why’d you go outside?” Dillon asked, placing his hand on the small of her back. “I asked if you were alright before, and you said you were fine.”
Smiling, Lisa reached for Emily’s hand. “Us girls can get a little…emotional before the big day.” Feeling nearly lightheaded, Emily gripped her hand tighter. “Michael, why don’t you explain to Dillon what we’re looking to do with our retirement fund? I’d like to talk with my sister about the semantics of the wonderful ‘honeymoon’ phase.”
“Oh, yeah,” Michael said, turning to Dillon. Dillon peered at Emily for a second and adjusted his tie. “If we don’t get our shit together, Lisa and I will most definitely not be retiring on an island somewhere.”
Hesitantly, Dillon dragged his gaze from Emily and gave Michael his attention.
Hands still locked, Lisa pulled Emily through the party, avoiding every possible guest that tried to stop and talk with her. Taking a seat at a small cocktail table in the corner of the room, she gave Emily a sympathetic look.
“What did he say to you?” Lisa whispered with panicked curiosity burning behind her eyes.
Emily rubbed the side of her temples. “He keeps saying he didn’t do anything with her,” she answered, trying to keep the stinging tears threatening her eyes from spilling out. “He just…I don’t know.”
Pressing her lips into a hard line, Lisa studied her with concern. “Emily, is it at all possible that he’s telling the truth?”
Slowly, Emily turned her head, her gaze immediately locking with Gavin’s. As it did every time she stared at his beautiful face, her heart raced, and her breathing became uneven. Though he was talking with Trevor, standing with both elbows propped on the bar, his eyes were intent on hers. The sadness surrounding his presence was sickening, dragging her spirit down with him. Emily didn’t know how long they stared at one another, but it felt like forever. She ran a hand through her hair, the need to believe his words growing to unbearable heights in her chest. Unwillingly, she tore her attention from his, bringing it back to her sister.
“I’m so confused, Lisa,” she whispered. “I keep seeing her open his door. She wasn’t dressed…she was so…beautiful.”
Before Lisa could question the situation any further, Joan called out to Emily from a few feet away. Emily’s head snapped up, her body trembling in the process.
“There you are,” Joan huffed, a questioning look molding her face. “I searched—”
“Yes, Joan,” Lisa interrupted, rising to her feet. She reached for Emily’s hand, and Emily stood up with her. “We know. You searched high and low for my sister. She needed a breather. I’m sure you understand how nervous a bride can be the day before her wedding,” she said, offering a smile, one that Emily knew to be as fake as they come.
Joan drew up a slow brow. “Of course I can,” she flitted. Taking a sip of her white wine, she waved her hand in the direction of the U-shaped table in the middle of the room. “Everyone needs to take a seat now. The maître d’ just notified me that the waiters should be coming around shortly to get everyone’s orders.”
Without waiting for a response from either, Joan turned on her heels, her voice echoing throughout the room as she repeated her announcement to the rest of the guests.