Happy Ending (Fisher Brothers 4)

After the most ridiculous number of pictures known to man had been taken, we finally headed into the reception hall. Claudia’s Colombian touches were downright adorable. Each place card sat positioned inside a tray filled with coffee beans. It smelled amazing. And at each table were tiny satchels of Colombian coffee for guests to take home.

I kept picking mine up and sniffing at it. Matson mimicked me once and wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Ick,” he said, tossing it onto the table.

I laughed. “One day you’ll love it.”

“Probably not.”

The waitstaff wandered throughout the hall, filling everyone’s glasses with champagne. When a gentleman I didn’t know handed me a microphone, I knew it was time. With one look at Nick, I stood up from my chair at the head table and tapped the top of the microphone to get the room’s attention.

“Hi, everyone. Not sure who this Farnk guy is,” I said, holding up one of the notecards from earlier, and the guests roared with laughter. Well, everyone except Frank laughed. I assumed he was plotting my death, based on the dark look he gave me.

“Sorry. That was the last time,” I promised, giving him a shrug. “Like I was saying, I’m Frank’s more charming, better-looking, younger brother Ryan.”

Nick coughed and punched at his chest while the crowd laughed.

“And that’s Nick.” I hooked a thumb toward him. “He’s less charming, but probably still better looking.”

The crowd continued to laugh while Frank pretended to glare at me, shaking his head.

“Nick and I wrote this together because we knew we’d both say pretty much the same thing, but would spend the whole time trying to outdo each other. Instead of embarrassing Frank in front of everyone here today, we decided to combine our speeches and I’d deliver it. More charming, see?”

I made eye contact around the room and stopped on Claudia. “We’re not sure what our brother was doing before he found you, Claudia, but it sure wasn’t living. He hit the lottery the night you walked into our bar, and we all knew it. We saw the way he looked at you. And the way you looked back, if I’m being honest. If eye contact could start a fire, you two would have set the block ablaze, not just the bar. The whole damn block.”

Overcome with emotion, I sucked in a breath. “You saved him, you know. You brought the light back into his life, and we can never thank you enough for that. We can’t imagine him with anyone else. You are our brother’s perfect person. We’re so grateful for you. And we’re so excited to finally have a sister. Welcome to the Fisher family. We couldn’t love you more.”

I raised my glass of champagne, locking eyes with my brother and his new wife, who was wiping fresh tears away with a napkin. “To Frank and Claudia,” I said, and everyone repeated the words as they toasted their neighbors and then took a sip.

As if on cue, the volume in the room immediately rose, with everyone speaking excitedly to each other. An army of waitstaff appeared, delivering the first course to each table at once.

“I need something stronger than this.” I put down the champagne flute and looked at Sofia. “Do you want anything from the bar?” I knew she’d say no, but I wanted to ask anyway.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“See, Nick?” Jess said, and I stifled a laugh, knowing what was coming. “Ryan knew Sof was gonna say no, but he asked her anyway.”

“What can I say? I’m sorry I’m a shitty boyfriend,” he said, pushing out his bottom lip in a pretend pout.

Jess reached for his cheeks and squeezed them with both hands. “You’re not a shitty boyfriend.” She kissed his face. “I love you. Just be more courteous sometimes, please?” she asked sweetly, and he grinned at her.

“I will, babe. Promise.” Nick leaned over and kissed her hard.

“You coming?” I asked him.

He raised a glass half-filled with amber liquid in my direction, indicating that he was good.

Making my way toward the back bar, I stopped and shook hands with people I barely knew and accepted their compliments on my speech. I was thankful that most of the guests were busy eating, so the bar wasn’t crowded. After ordering a drink, I dropped a tip in the jar and gave the bartender a nod when he sat my drink in front of me.

I noticed Grant making his way toward me, and so I stayed put, sipping my so-so drink. They’re never as good as I make them.

He stopped in front of me, one hand in his jacket pocket. “Nice speech.”

“Is that a compliment from you?”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “I could have done better.”

I laughed. “Not sure why you’re always trying to compete with me.”

“It’s not competing when you always win,” he bit back, and I rolled my eyes. “What, no snappy comeback? You’re losing your touch.”