Talia lifted a delicately arched brow as she tossed her silken black locks over one shoulder. “Her mother is a narcissistic attempted murderer. If Willow knew, you know she would take your side. You know she wouldn't let your mother anywhere near you.”
Did I know though? What if she still chose mum after hearing the truth?
I shoved that thought aside. This wasn't about being chosen or believed. I had moved on. I just had to survive this damn wedding.
“…I mean, he's always an option. But what you want is somebody really fit.”
It took me several moments to realize that Talia had been speaking. And I had just spaced out on her. My brain scrambled to catch up.
I frowned. What the hell were we talking about? “Fit?”
Talia laughed. “Yeah, he's got to be hotter than Christopher by miles. Like maybe we need to hire you a model or an actor.”
I shook my head. “What the hell are you on about?”
She rolled her eyes. “Your date for the wedding of course.”
Oh boy. This was the last thing I needed. Talia in fix it mode. The last time she'd gotten like this, she'd signed me up for all the apps. My life had been pure chaos for a month and a half as she ran my dating life. There were some nights I had two back-to-back. I'd finally had to take things over and shut everything down. And soon after was when Christopher and I had gotten together. Before that he hadn't really paid much attention to me. But I think seeing me dressed and ready to go out on a date practically every night of the week lit a fire under his arse.
Of course, the moment he had me. He’d stopped trying at all. And now I was alone and betrayed.
“Talia, I don't need a date. I'll be fine. Besides, I'm the maid of honor. I'll be so busy I won't even be able to talk to her.”
My best friend leaned across the table. The glow from the candle lit her light brown skin, making it glow. “Bullshit. You know your mother. You're kidding yourself.”
My mother was more than capable of causing a scene. I sighed, a sense of dread closing in on me. She had a point. A year and a half ago. I’d made the error of posting that I was excited about getting my motorcycle license on Instagram. She tracked me down only to berate me about what a bad daughter I was in front of everyone. Thankfully I'd already had my turn and despite several errors and a panic attack beforehand, I had my license in hand. But I’d just made a slew of new friends, and we were all making plans to go grab a pint before she showed up and ruined the moment.
“Okay, you have a point. But honestly, I don't have time to scramble for a date.”
Talia pointed an accusatory finger at me. “First and foremost, you don't have time because you don't make time. But we can get you a date just like that.” She snapped her fingers in front of my face.
“I doubt that.” After today I didn’t believe that for a moment. The humiliation of being publicly dumped and my just-now ex doing the activity I’d just chickened out of.
“Oh ye of little faith.”
Talia's eyes suddenly went wide. “Don't look now, but we have incoming.”
Oh no. I tried to get up, but Talia shook her head and muttered, “Too late.”
Before I could think of a proper way to escape, I felt someone's body heat behind me.
I turned slowly and saw a man who looked vaguely familiar. Average height, average weight, looked like he worked out. Dark hair, very nice camel peacoat. Where did I know him from?
Who was he?
The bloke gave me a warm smile. “Daphne, I'm so glad to run into you. Been a while, hasn't it?”
He knew my name? Why did he know my name? Was he a reporter? It had been years since the vultures had circled, wanting my story. It was nearing the fifteen-year anniversary though, so maybe someone was digging up the past? “I'm so sorry. Have we met?”
Playing dumb could usually buy me a little bit of time. Except in this case, I was dumb. While he looked familiar, I couldn't place him.
Dark olive skin, dark hair, and very intense eyes. It took another moment, then it clicked. Oh yes. I remembered meeting him at Travis’s office when I’d gone to meet him to set up Willow’s birthday.
This guy had lingered a little too long when I'd shaken his hand. His smile was smarmy. “Oh, I think I remember. Travis’s office, right?”
He placed a hand on my back as he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, you do remember. Massimo. How lucky to run into you.”
I shifted forward to shake off his touch, which was too cloying. “Yes, how are you?”
“I’m great. Do you mind?” He asked, but it wasn’t really an ask because he helped himself to one of the seats at our table.
Talia’s eyes went wide. “The fuck are you doing?”
“You don’t mind, do you, Daphne?” he asked, pinning me with his dark gaze.
I inwardly shrank from his touch. I wished I had some cool retort, but even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to say it. Talia knew this look. It was my deer-in-the-headlights look. But she also knew the reason for it. It had taken me years of therapy to understand that sometimes I’d need a minute to process what was happening after all the years I’d been terrorized.
“I—”
My words choked and nothing came out. Talia, though, mate that she was, was right there. “Daphne and I are having a private conversation, so if you don’t mind…”
Massimo scowled at her. His earlier smile had slid off like a mask, and the scowl replaced it. One that sent a shiver up my spine and put me into fight or flight mode.
The bartender, who was a friend of Talia’s, leaned over to speak to her, and Talia flirted with him shamelessly. Satisfied she at least had someone other than Massimo to speak to, I tried to buy myself a reprieve. “I—if you'll excuse me for a moment."
I pushed away from the table, but Massimo grabbed my elbow. "Hurry back. I'm looking forward to talking to you."
A shiver of fear ran down my spine, and I had to force myself to swallow bile at the back of my throat.
I walked blindly toward the loo, and sure, maybe I wasn't looking where I was going, but I hadn't expected to crash into a wall of muscle. Strong hands grabbed my biceps and held me before I bounced back. "Easy does it."
My eyes darted up and, well, my brain shorted out.
This really must have been what people meant when they said stupid hot. When the other person was so insanely attractive that they made you instantly stupid and incapable of stringing together a coherent thought.
I registered that he was tall, at least six foot four. Inky dark hair that looked thick and soft. Long on top and short on the sides, either artfully styled with gel or he'd spent an unusual amount of time running his hands through it.
It was all topped off with bright blue eyes, cheekbones and a jawline that looked like they had been sculpted by the gods, and a smile that made my tongue freeze.
I honestly couldn't work out how to put the words together.
"Are you all right?"
I stammered, "Um, sorry. I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention and I… There's this guy and…"
He narrowed his eyes and gazed somewhere beyond me. "Trying to avoid someone?"
I glanced over my shoulder. "Like you wouldn't believe."