If we were alone, I’d smack him for that question.
“Unavoidable, I’m afraid,” Barron says. “I’m going to be out of the country for a week. We can’t have the party until I’m back.”
Obviously.
“Do you want to tell Justin?”
“No, you should.” Barron sighs. “You’re right. It’d be better to do i
t tomorrow, but it’ll take time to make travel arrangements for Evie’s mother. And I’m on my way to see Kerri and Ethan and my adorable great-grandson.” His eyes soften until they’re like melted chocolate.
“But they’re in Virginia,” Nate points out.
Barron shrugs. “Vegas isn’t much of a detour.” He stands. “I should get going.”
Thank God he’s finally leaving.
“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Barron adds.
“Yes, of course.” Nate smiles.
And I do the same, because “No, you won’t” isn’t even an option when he’s looking at us so expectantly. And with a hint that if we fail, we’ll all die a horrible death.
Barron pats Nate’s shoulders like he’s single-handedly discovered a lost Shakespearean manuscript, kisses me on the cheek like we’re real family and walks out.
I down the rest of my coffee. It’s lukewarm, but I’m too wrung out to care. “We need to tell him the truth before the party.”
“Actually, it makes more sense to play along,” Nate says.
“Play along?” I blink a few times, wondering if he’s still too drunk to think rationally. “As in…lie? And act like we’re married for real?”
“Well…yeah.”
The terror of school plays returns in dizzying vertigo. I hated—hated—being on stage, having to say the right things the right way even though they weren’t at all what I wanted to say.
“He called you my bride and wife,” Nate says thoughtfully.
Why is he talking like we’re married for real? “We could tell him we changed our minds and got an annulment.”
“Did you see how he was talking about Kerri’s kid?”
“So? What does that have to do with us?”
His look says, How can you be so slow? “He’s been hinting for a child…from me.”
“But not from me!” I say, in case Nate has forgotten that I wasn’t anywhere on Barron’s radar until now. “He won’t be too disappointed. And it isn’t like he expects you to marry only once.”
For some weird reason, talking about remarrying reminds me of my thong. I turn and go to the now-empty chair to grab it…
Except it’s not there anymore.
“Where did it go?” I say shrilly as my heart freezes.
Nate jumps to his feet. “What? Is there a roach?”
“No! My thong! From yesterday. It was right here.” I point at the cushion. “Barron was sitting on it.”
Nate’s jaw slackens. “You let my great-uncle sit on your underwear?”