Every meal that Beth had sat down to in the last two days had been painfully awkward, and the rehearsal dinner was no exception. She endured stares and whispers, moments of uncomfortable silence. A whole buffet of social awkwardness.
There were good moments too. Isobel had laughed with her. Spencer was seated at the other end of the table, and was, therefore, easy to ignore. And her mother had actually hugged her when she walked into the restaurant. It was as close to an apology as she was ever going to get.
Even with Alex next to her, Beth kept looking over her shoulder. He kept one hand on her the whole time. He was either holding her hand, cupping her knee, or had one draped over her shoulder. The message was clear.
I am here.
She was grateful for the reminder. His presence was the only thing that was keeping her sane. And not just because of the ever-present assassination threat. He helped get her through the dinner with friends and family as well. No matter what, he kept smiling.
It was an odd disconnect. Though everyone at the table thought that he was a man of questionable repute, they all clearly liked him. It was almost impossible not to like Alex when he turned on the charm. Of course, she still had to remember to call him Charlie. She found herself slipping more than once.
A few people noticed and raised their eyebrows. Alex only winked. It was sweet. And sexy as hell.
She was falling for him. Hard.
It was a stupid thing to do. Not because of what he did—he was one of the good guys, after all—and not because she feared that she might mess up his concentration, but because she knew he would leave.
She figured she had about a fifty/fifty chance of making it through the weekend alive. She didn't want her dying thought to be that she didn’t grab every moment of sweetness that life had to offer. On the other hand, if she did somehow manage to walk away from this whole thing, she knew that Alex would be walking in the other direction. She was just a job to him. A job with perks, sure, but a job all the same. If she gave too much of her heart away, she knew she'd be crushed.
Still, she'd suffered through broken hearts before. And with the help of a few sappy songs and more than a few quarts of Ben and Jerry's, she'd survived.
But those guys hadn't been Alex. She wasn't sure anybody survived Alex. Not in any sense.
At least her appetite had returned. Good thing too. The béarnaise sauce that was slathered over her chicken was phenomenal. Her mother tsked across the table at her as she soaked some up on a piece of bread. Beth just smiled back before popping it into her mouth.
Her mother's disapproving stare didn't last long. Isobel stood at the head of the table and lifted her glass.
“I want to thank everyone for coming today. Thanks to my parents and to my family who traveled here from all over the world. Thanks to all the Masterson family for welcoming me. And thank you to all my friends who have come to share in the celebration. But I'd like to give a special thanks to my lifelong friend, Beth Bradley. We've always been there for each other, ever since we were kids. We've had a lot of adventures, and more than our fair share of misadventures. I just want you to know I wouldn't give them up for anything, and I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
Beth felt her eyes begin to burn. Big, fat tears slipped down her cheeks, but she smiled as she lifted her glass.
“Beth has been promising all week that she won't cry at the ceremony tomorrow. But I'm kind of hoping that she will. Big emotions are nothing to be ashamed of. Showing how you feel about the people in your life is nothing to hide. So go ahead and cry all you want, Beth. Just don't get any on my dress.”
A chorus of cheers went up at the table.
Beth flashed a smile at her best friend. Just like that—just like the best friend that she was—Isobel helped Beth make up her mind.
Beth finished her dinner, but didn't wait for dessert. She said her goodbyes, hugged her mom and kissed her best friend. She resisted kicking the legs of Spencer's chair out from under him as she passed by. She probably didn't need to make every emotion public.