Eighteen: We Have To Work Together

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"What do you want?" I ask him immediately. We're in the service hallway the waiters and waitresses use to get around.

"I thought it would be good if we talk before we have to go out there," he chuckles, oblivious to my tone.

At first I want to snap about what?, but then I remember Rip and the whole mission.

"Right," I agreet. Neither of us say anything as we move away from the door. I lean on the far wall, pristine white so it won't mess up my dress. Not that I care.

"You look nice," he admits, gesturing to me without actually looking, but I know he means it.

"Thanks. Uh, you too. Thanks for fixing the ring," I continue. He does look nice. The wedding theme is purple, funnily enough, so he's wearing a black tux and waistcoat with a purple tie and handkerchief.

He looks super hot in black.

"This is really uncomfortable," I admit with a nervous mirth.

"Your dress?" He asks, confused, "Because I was going to say that it really suits you compared to those others-"

"Uh, no," I chuckle awkwardly, "I mean this. Us." I gesture between us. "And, thanks again. I didn't want any of those lacy frills anywhere near me."

He grins. It's a dashing, enticing look on him. It makes me want to reach out and dig my nails into his face and squish his cheeks together.

What the fuck.

"You're right, it's super uncomfortable," he admits. I don't know what to respond with, so I just nod silently and fold my arms.

I could do that cliché thing and say 'Let's start again', then we shake hands and re-introduce ourselves like losers in a Hugh Grant romantic comedy.

From inside the room I can hear the others playing their favourite drinking game. Hopefully Heather and Christa don't start making out on the floor. As much as I don't care about this whole thing too much, two bridesmaids with smudged lipstick and a bunch of boys with hard ons might spark certain reactions.

"Have you seen the venues?" Richard suddenly asks. I look from the door to him and shake my head. "Would you like to? They're something."

Mai will be pissed if she finds out I left within ten feet of the room.

So of course I say yes.

"Alright," I push off the wall and the two of us walk side-by-side through the servile hallway. It's coated in clean, dark carpet with cream embellishments on the walls. Trust my father to go extravagant in a space only employees will see.

Well, them, and my husband.

My stomach flips in a way it shouldn't. Not a giddy, happy oh my gosh I'm getting married way, but in a gut-convulsing, sick way.

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