Want Me (Mess with Me 4)

“Sorry for the fuss everyone. I’m fine.”

Now that I’m no longer in danger of dying, I recognize the handsome man standing next to me as the brother of the groom. I can’t remember his name but it was something as ridiculously elegant as the precise fit of his suit.

I wave off his offer of help as I get to my feet, anxious to escape the table. There’s an open bar that I’ve become well-acquainted with over the course of the past hour and I’d much rather cool my mortification over a glass of premium champagne. My heart doesn’t slow down until I reach the bar and notice no one I’m familiar with standing there.

Not that it’s difficult to find anonymity in this crowd. My friend Casey Michaels just married Andre Lavin, one of the most famous designers on the planet, so the attendees at their wedding range from her mother’s nursing friends to minor members of European aristocracy.

I look over the crowd and watch as Andre leads Casey onto the dance floor, her couture gown swirling around her legs like flower petals. It’s a Lavin Bridal original and makes her look ethereal, like some kind of otherworldly being. He leans down and whispers something in her ear that brings a tender smile to her lips. The way they look at each other is so intimate it feels voyeuristic to watch.

Envy blooms, quick and nasty, and I turn away. Casey is the sweetest person I know and she deserves every bit of the happiness that has recently come her way.

“Time for the bouquet toss!”

The sudden boom of a voice over the sound system jolts me out of my dazed state. Several women at the surrounding tables groan while others chatter excitedly. I take the opportunity to slip away while everyone else is focused on what’s about to happen.

Dodging plant life is really not my thing.

Although, let’s be honest. Does anyone actually enjoy the bouquet toss? From my vast experience being a bridesmaid in all of my friends’ weddings, the tradition is the bane of every single girl’s life.

You might as well call it “Pin the Tail on the Spinsters!”

Everyone is so focused on the dance floor that no one notices a rogue bridesmaid slipping out a side door and into the hallway. The air is noticeably cooler out here and it feels amazing on my heated skin. Now I just have to find a place to hide out until the bouquet toss is over.

Preferably someplace with alcohol.

My memory of this hotel isn’t the best, the Fitz-Harrington isn’t exactly in an office manager’s price range, but I know there has to be a bar where I can drown my sorrows. Rich people like to drink too, right? I take the elevator down to the main lobby and then walk until I see the restaurant up ahead.

For the first time today, I let out a sigh of relief.

The relief is quickly followed by guilt. A close friend has found the love of her life and I’m supposed to be in there supporting her. Instead, I’m hiding out at the bar in another part of the hotel so I don’t have to proclaim my perpetual singleness while dodging a flower bomb.

As I sit at the bar and order a glass of wine, I have honestly never felt worse.

Until I turn my head and see the woman sitting two seats over. Her gown is the same peach color as mine but with a slightly different bodice. I was secretly glad the bridesmaid dresses were a little more demure since I don’t have the cleavage to carry off a deep v-neck like that.

“Fucking hell.” Ariana Silva points at me with the same hand holding her drink. “If you’re down here…”

I start laughing. “You’re the maid of honor!”

She drops her head and bangs it against the polished mahogany bar top. “We are terrible friends. You know that, right?”

“I’m willing to concede the possibility. To be fair, I almost got killed by a cupcake just now, so I’m probably not making the best decisions.”

The bartender sets my drink down in front of me, placing it squarely on the center of a fancy white napkin with a scalloped edge. Resigned to my fate, I hand over my credit card. Starting a tab is the least of my sins at this point.

“Well, at least I don’t feel quite as bad now.” Ariana raises her glass in my direction with a smirk. “To the last ones standing.”

“The last ones.” As I sip my drink, I pray for the alcohol to work quickly. Maybe it can drown out the tears th

at have been threatening ever since I watched the newlyweds pledge their love to each other.

It’s especially awful to be envious of someone as sweet as Casey. Besides it’s not like I’m jealous of her life because she doesn’t deserve it. She does. And it’s not that I want her life exactly. Andre is a handsome man but he’s not my type.

Unfortunately I only have a thing for older men with commitment issues.

I thought I was doing a good job of hiding my misery but clearly not since Ari looks over at me with pity.

She motions to the bartender. “I have a feeling we’re going to need more drinks.”