Cristina and Jason walk off to the head table and soon everyone is circling around, looking for their place cards. Shock of the century, Cristina seated me next to Ryan.

“What were you and Jason talking about?” I ask him as we sit down.

Ryan’s expression shifts from pensive to blank. He flattens his tie against his shirt before tucking his chair in closer to the table. “Just about how much I suck, basically.”

“What? Why would he say that?”

“It’s not his fault. I told him I would do something and I didn’t.” He keeps fiddling with his tie and it makes me want to grab his hand and pin it down.

“Was it groomsman stuff? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a pro bono wedding planner extraordinaire. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it.”

“It’s not groomsman stuff.” I’m ready to press him further when he reaches around the back of my chair and drags it forward until our seats bump together. “How about we have a good time tonight and I’ll explain everything when we get home?”

His close proximity makes me a little loopy but not enough for me to ignore the slight uneasy feeling that’s growing in my stomach.

“Is it—” I don’t get chance to finish as a trim, towering man unceremoniously drops into the empty seat beside Ryan. His brown hair is messy in an intentional way and the suit he’s wearing seems tailor-made. The watch on his wrist looks more expensive than my first two cars.

“Remind me never to be a groomsman again,” he says in an inconvenienced tone. “I almost forgot all about this thing.”

“I figured.”

“What’s there to rehearse anyways?”

“I said the same thing.”

Watching him and Ryan talk, I recognize the man as his friend from the pre-wedding party. I think his name was—

“Bonjour, mademoiselle, my name is Beau.” He reaches out and takes my hand in a steady grip. I can tell he likes to moisturize.

“Bonjour,” I say with a hesitant smile, “I’m Kara.”

“You look very beautiful tonight, Kara. That shade of blue you’re wearing is particularly alluring with your deep brown eyes.”

“Do not hit on her,” Ryan says. “She’s self-sufficient and doesn’t have any incapacitating self-esteem issues so you wouldn’t like her at all.”

“That’s a shame. Your skin tone and my height would have made for exceptionally superior offspring.”

“I said don’t hit on her.”

“I’m not hitting on her, I’m stating genetic facts. This guy always has such a bad attitude.”

“I haven’t noticed,” I say jokingly.

“How I’ve been able to stay best friends with him for so long is beyond me. I just have too big a heart.”