Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69413 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
After the dance, the guests erupted in cheers, and the party migrated away from the bar and into the grand ballroom, with all of its lush flowers, tiny glowing lights, and sweeping early-evening views of the mountains.
Landry and I each found the little nametags that denoted where we should be sitting at the round, wooden tables. We were far apart from each other—on different ends of the room. I gave him a nod as he walked off toward his table.
How many more times would I get to see him like this?
How many more times would I get to spend hours and hours with him, aimlessly, all in one day?
Even if we ended up friendly back in California, I knew we were both very busy people, and nothing would ever be like this again.
The snowglobe was going to break tomorrow. And even though my heart needed to let go of focusing too much on Landry, I still felt bittersweet watching him walk away from me.
At my own table, so far, I was still sitting alone other than a bored teenager on the opposite end who must have been someone’s kid, staring down directly into her phone and not looking up from it once. I watched as people streamed into the room, fawning over all of the fresh flowers and complimenting the happy couple on their dance.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and turned to see Landry, with a name tag in his hand.
Feeling his touch, in any way, was like sinking back into a warm bath on a cold night.
“On a scale of one to ten, how much of a wedding crime is it to switch my name tag with one of the ones at this table?” Landry said, cocking his head to one side.
Little butterflies swirled inside me.
Yes. Yes, God, please, sit next to me.
“I think it’s a victimless crime,” I said, conspiratorial already. “Let’s find a nametag that looks like it’s not one half of a couple, and let’s do it.”
“Holy shit, you’re at the same table as Marianne,” Landry said, glancing at the nametags. “Now I’m definitely moving to this one.”
“Is that your new best friend who looks like she’s a rich old lady who just stepped off the Titanic?”
“You got it. Hey, this one looks safe to move.”
We made a break for it, swapping Landry’s tag with someone named Mickey Maddox, and came back over to the table. I intercepted one of Adam’s friends along the way and asked her if she knew who Mickey was.
“Mickey is a gem,” the woman said, glowing. “He’s a therapist Adam and I played tennis with a long time ago, around college. He can look inside of anyone’s soul and heal them.”
I nodded once. “Thank you.” I headed back over to my table and told Landry the good news.
“Perfect,” he said, smiling. “Sounds like Mickey will be comfortable anywhere he goes.”
“And if we get in trouble, I’ll just blame it all on you. Deal?”
Landry laughed for the first time that afternoon, and the rich sound reassured me that finally, he wasn’t having a terrible time. “Deal, Marshmallow.”
Damn it. Landry hadn’t called me that in a while, and I’d forgotten how much I’d actually come to enjoy the nickname.
“Not so much a marshmallow tonight,” I said, running my hands along my grey suit.
Landry’s eyes glimmered as he nodded. “More of a stone-cold fox, for sure.”
Over the next hour, everything felt like it had finally settled into place.
We ate ludicrously good food. We drank cocktails. The sun slowly set over the mountains, and the room became its own glowy haven as the party got started. After a few speeches that made me tear up and Landry smile politely, the live band started up, starting off the night with some jazzy swing dance classics.
“We have to do that,” I told Landry, pointing toward the photobooth at the corner of the room. I grabbed his hand, pulling him along with me. “Let’s go.”
“Come on. Those photobooth strips always just end up in a drawer somewhere—”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “Every photobooth strip I have is very proudly displayed on my kitchen fridge. I even have some dating back to when I was in elementary school. I love those things.”
With a reluctant smile he let me drag him over to the photobooth and we crowded in together. I grabbed one of the prop feather boas, draping it around my neck before we hit the button to take the photos.
“First one back to back,” I said, leaning back against Landry.
“You are too cheesy.”
“And you love it,” I told him, smiling for the camera. “Okay, silly faces for the next.”
Landry totally didn’t budge on that one, instead looking like his usual cool, calm and collected handsome self for the photo.
“Last one,” I said.
A split second before the photo was taken, Landry leaned over, wrapped his arm around me, and pressed a kiss to my cheek. Heat flooded through me instantly. It pained me not to lean into him and press my lips to his.