“I can only imagine.” Felisha takes a sip. “Now, can we talk about this wedding that my mother is trying to hijack and make bigger than the ones the royal family have?” She closes her eyes, hoping that when she opens them again, I’ll have some magic answer.

Laughing, I joke with her. “You could always get married in Vegas when we go with the guys next week for the Grand Prix, then just throw a big party when we get back. I mean, I can’t believe we gave a weekend up at the villa just to join them in the flashy-lights capital of the US.” Felisha looks at me, and we both giggle hysterically for a moment until she stops and gets that mischievous look in her eyes like she’s up to something.

“You might be on to something, my brilliant friend.” She places her glass down on the table and picks up her phone, opening up a search page.

“What? No. Don’t even think about it. Your mother would absolutely kill me, and Flynn’s mother would too.” I try to snatch her phone out of her hands as Forrest and Flynn walk up to our table to meet us for dinner.

“Hey, good looking, want to get married in Vegas next weekend?” Felisha looks up at Flynn with the smile of a devil in disguise.

“Are you joking?” He looks at her skeptically.

“Dead serious,” she says as he leans in to kiss her.

“Then fuck yeah, let’s bypass all the bullshit and do this.” He sits down beside her, and Forrest looks at me as if to say what the hell is happening?

“No, stop it, you can’t do that.” Now I wish I hadn’t opened my mouth. That’s what I get for trying to have a sense of humor all the time.

“Sure, we can, like you said, then we will throw a big party later when we come back. I mean, just think about it. There is no way we will have to fight off the paparazzi because we will be the least interesting people in town. It takes all the stress out of it, and I don’t have to put up with my mother driving me crazy.” Felisha smiles at the thought of not having to deal with her mum.

“Oh, you think Lady Kentwall is going to be happy when she finds out her only daughter got married at some roadside chapel by an Elvis impersonator? I think I’d rather put up with the bridezilla mother of the bride that we have now, thanks all the same,” I say as I put a hand on my hip to show I’m serious.

Felisha groans at me, and Flynn and Forrest aren’t game to enter into the argument.

“Okay, I suppose you’re right.” She throws a paper serviette at me.

“I always am, that’s why you love me.” I sit back into my seat, and Forrest squeezes me tight around the shoulder as I get comfortable snuggling into him.