Chapter 51

Evie

Iwatch as Adam takes hold of the microphone, the noise in the room dying down as he welcomes us to Steph and Brad's rehearsal dinner.

Until now, I've only seen Adam in isolation. In his car, in his house, on the trails. Twice at the bar in Yosemite.

I'm not surprised to see how comfortable he is in front of a crowd. Of course, he probably knows the vast majority of attendees. But it's not only that. He has an infectious charisma that draws people in. People like me.

Dressed in perfectly-cut suit, Adam looks incredibly handsome. My heart skips a beat recalling how he introduced me to his father.

The woman I love.

If only.

Even if we were living in an alternate universe where all this was real, I already have a plan to go home. Where I built my life. Where my boys call home.

There's just one tiny problem.

I'm falling for my fake fiancé. Hard.

"It's an honor to be giving this speech," Adam says. "Mostly because it means I get to hand off my annoying little sister to Brad."

Everyone laughs, even Steph. She's one tough cookie.

"But seriously, she is funny, smart, freakishly strong and kind . . ."

Steph's expression is wary.

". . . even if she is that thing that rhymes with kitch or stitch."

"Or rich!" Steph shouts, wiggling her sparkling ring finger.

Another round of laughter. Their parents look on with amusement.

It's bizarre to be sitting at the family table, next to Anna and Ari. They're a fun, larger-than-life couple. Adam and Steph are lucky to have them.

Once more, I marvel at their sibling relationship. Though seemingly more contentious than that of my boys, it's obviously rooted in love.

Adam lowers his voice, conspiratorially. "Let me share one juicy anecdote with all of you. Brad, pay close attention."

The entire room seems to lean in.

"When Steph was seven years old, she had important criteria for the man she would marry." Adam lifts a finger. "One, he had to have a gigantic pair of?—"

"Get out of my way! I don't need an invitation!"

Instantly, the room's attention turns toward the interruption. A white-haired man dressed in a well-cut suit is standing in the doorway, his face beet red.

I hear Adam say, "glasses!" but no one is paying him any mind.

One of Steph's two Fed friends has his hand on the old man's arm, blocking his entry. The agents have been on guard from the start, as if this were a top-secret summit of high-profile politicians rather than a wedding event.

Brad jumps to his feet, running to the doorway.

"Get off him!" Brad shouts, shoving the Fed's hand away. The second agent grabs hold of Brad, pulling his hands behind his back. The only thing missing is the handcuffs.

Now Steph is rushing to them, shouting. I can't make out everything being said, but the two men back down and walk away.

Brad ushers the older man to a chair and speaks with what seems like a forced calm. "Grandpa, are you all right?"

Yikes. Steph's friends were accosting the groom's grandfather!

I watch Steph approach her fiancé, her face ashen.

Brad stands. "I told you not to invite them and you did anyway." Anger drips from his voice.

"I-I'm sorry. It was for security."

"Look around. This is a family party. Our wedding weekend. We don't need the FBI, goddammit!"

Steph takes a step back as if slapped.

They stare at each other for a moment.

And then the bride runs away.