It didn’t hurt that the drinks were flowing freely, or that everyone, from the bride’s elegant best friend Hilary right down to the elderly woman in a plaid taffeta dress collecting names for the guest book, was focused on the newlyweds. Tyler and Evie were adorable, and so obviously in love Delaney found herself sniffling with emotion on more than one occasion.
Now here they were at dinner, with Grant in the suit that looked every bit as good as she’d imagined it would, and her in the plainest, beigest sweater she owned, and a brown skirt. She was woefully underdressed—on purpose. She hadn’t brought many fancy clothes from home, and even if she had, it wouldn’t be much of a disguise if she showed up for the wedding in a three-thousand-dollar Dior dress. She couldn’t have afforded that dress on her own, of course, but being a stylist had some nice perks. Namely expensive hand-me-downs.
The meal was nearly over when the toasts began. She got sniffly again as Scotty, the youngest Connelly brother, stood up and talked about meeting his sister-in-law for the first time, and how he’d known right away that Tyler’s life would never be the same.
“This is my brother,” he said of the groom at the end of his speech. “He’s taught me a lot about how to be a good man. He’s kept me out of trouble, and he lets me beat him at tennis once in a while. So, although I’m the best man tonight, I think everybody here knows Tyler is the best man every day, and he’s definitely the best man for Evie.”
Delaney stole a sideways glance at Grant as everyone in the room clapped and then clinked their glasses before drinking. The dining tables were small and only the best man and maid of honor were sitting with the bride and groom, which meant this Connelly brother was relegated to sitting with Donna and Carl. His expression as he gazed at Tyler and Scotty was unreadable, and his ever-present camera sat untouched on the table. Something made her reach over and squeeze his wrist. He was the oldest. It should have been him standing up there as best man, but he smiled at her and she wondered if she was overthinking things. She pulled her hand back into her own lap.
“So what’s it been like living with my brother?” Aimee asked, much later in the evening, after the dinner dishes had been cleared, the drinks had been refilled several times, and the dancing crowd had grown louder and wilder. Delaney was standing with Grant’s sisters near the bar, nursing a watered-down gin and tonic while the music, fast and pulsing, sent her heart thumping along with the rhythm.
The strawberry-blonde sister seemed a little unsteady on those four-inch heels, no thanks to several glasses of wine, but Wendy, the other sister, was next to Delaney, sipping from a bottle of water. Her brown-eyed gaze was speculative. Delaney had the sense she was being sized up by that one, like a python measuring its next meal. Hiccup.
“Living with Grant? It’s been fine,” Delaney answered, adding a deliberately vague tilt to her head. “He’s not there much.”
“He’ll be around a lot more now that the wedding stuff is over,” Wendy said. “We’re heading back to school, Scotty is going back to base, and Tyler and Evie will be on their honeymoon. You’ll have him all to yourself.”
Why did that sound like a dare?
“Well, once he gets my rent money back I’ll move someplace else. In the meantime, I’m sure we’ll both keep ourselves busy. I’ve been learning to knit.” She hadn’t meant to add that last part, but this girl’s stare was very unnerving.
Wendy arched one dark eyebrow. “Knit? You mean, like . . . with yarn?”
Delaney hiccupped. It’s quite possible she should have come up with something a little more substantial. Something a little more . . . anything. Learning to knit was not exactly a life goal, nor was it involved enough to fully occupy her days. She’d only had one drink, but apparently it had been enough to muddle her mind.
“Did you say knit?” The guest-book attendant in the black-and-green taffeta dress shoved her way into the conversation, parking herself right in front of Delaney. The woman was sixty if she was a day, but her curly hair was held back from her face with a sparkly headband that any six-year-old princess-in-training would have loved. “I find knitting simply delightful,” she continued. “My dear friend Anita taught me how to make the most elegant toilette covers. I could show you how, if you’d like.”
“Hi, Dody,” Wendy said, taking a sip of water. “Have you met Elaine?”
“Why, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, but aren’t you a pretty thing? I heard all about you from my son, Fontaine, of course. He’s the wedding planner, you know. Aren’t these decorations simply scrumptious?”
Delaney nodded. “Um, yes. Scrumptious.”
“I know, aren’t they?” Dody said excitedly, as if it had been Delaney who brought it up first. “Now, about knitting. Did I hear you say you knit?”
Delaney glanced at Wendy, wondering if either of Grant’s sisters found this woman a little kooky, but neither of them seemed alarmed.