She was prepared to face the day again. She only had a couple of hours left before she could escape.
She could do this.
She didn’t really have a choice.
In the middle of her mental pep talk, her eyes happened to land on a man standing alone across the room. He was leaning against the wall, sipping a glass of what appeared to be whisky.
He was watching her, and for some reason she knew he saw more than she wanted him to.
He saw everything.
She was hit with a wave of uncomfortable vulnerability. A feeling she wasn’t used to at all. She’d never spent a lot of time thinking about Robert Castleman, although she could remember almost every conversation she’d ever had with him, starting with that night outside the restaurant. Mostly he’d been Taylor’s uncle in her mind but also someone who made encounters strangely exhilarating. Although their families had always been friends, he’d been living in London while Amanda was in high school and college, so he hadn’t even been on her radar back then. But ever since he’d moved back to Richmond four years ago when his father died and his mother needed extra help, he’d been part of Amanda’s extended social circle.
She saw him semiregularly. At weddings and funerals and birthday parties and occasional random run-ins. She’d always labeled him in her mind as smart and kind of exciting but distant. She could always have a fun conversation with him. About books or politics or movies or people. But he also always seemed to see inside her. Too deeply. Too intimately. If she thought too much about it, it made her uncomfortable, and the only way she’d come to deal with it was knowing that he saw the world through a standoffish, impersonal lens.
Yes, maybe he could see what she’d prefer to hide, but he didn’t really care about it—about her—so it was fine. But it didn’t feel fine today.
She shivered when she met his gaze, and suddenly she felt completely naked. What the hell right did he have to watch her like that? To see beyond the surface that way? To recognize that she’d been close to tears all day despite her convincing act of joy at the occasion?
She scowled at him before she could stop herself.
Then she took a couple more gulps of champagne.
Turning away from Robert intentionally, she silenced a groan when her gaze ended up on her sister and Dave. He was as handsome today as she’d ever seen him—thick brown hair, deep brown eyes, the strong, solid build of a football player. He smiled at her and waved when he noticed her watching him, and she grinned back, waving like an idiot to make sure he didn’t question her mood.
Dave and Stacey had started dating only two months ago, and they’d gotten engaged only a few weeks after that. Ever since Amanda had learned they were together, she’d been working on putting her own feelings behind her, and she’d done a pretty good job if she did say so herself.
She wasn’t going to be the kind of person to yearn for her sister’s husband. She wasn’t like that. She’d never been like that. But that didn’t mean today wasn’t still hard—it signaled the final death of daydreams she’d had for fifteen years.
“Amanda!”
She turned toward the sound of her mother’s voice, steeling herself for what was likely to be an annoying conversation. Her smile never wavered as she said, “Did you need something, Mom?”
Amanda’s mother was still an attractive woman with the same blond hair and blue eyes as her daughters. She’d always taken great pride in her appearance. Her designer shoes and diamond jewelry were perfectly chosen, her wine-colored gown sleek and immaculate. “Can’t you do something?”
Blinking, Amanda mentally culled through possible sources of complaint. “Do something about what?”
“The servers are slacking. Our glasses have been empty for more than five minutes now.”
“They’re doing a good job overall. You can’t expect two servers to be omnipresent.” Amanda was used to this attitude. Her mother didn’t have a bad heart, and she did love her husband and daughters, but she was spoiled and entitled and generally expected the world to cater to her every need.
It was a frustrating characteristic in a parent, and it had been making Amanda’s life miserable for the past month as she’d organized a somewhat extravagant wedding for her sister in very little time.
“Well, they need to do a little better than this. Can you talk to them please?”
“Yes. Of course I will. Why don’t you try to relax and get off your feet? I’m sure you must be exhausted after working so hard to pull this wedding off.” Amanda’s words were strategic rather than genuine. The only work her mother had put into this event was constant nagging about ridiculous details. Amanda had done all the work on top of her full-time job as a marketing executive for a Richmond-based retail company.
“Yes. Thank you, dear. I think I will. I’ve been worn down to the bone this month. It’s been so hard.” Her mother’s eyelashes had gotten extra help from extensions today. She batted her thick, darkened lashes with exaggerated aggrievement.
“I know it has. Go on and sit down. I’ll talk to the servers and make sure you get some more champagne.”
Amanda had no intention of berating the servers, who were by any reasonable expectations doing an excellent job. She did walk over and speak to one, thanking the woman for their help and chatting for long enough to convince her mother of a substantive lecture. Then she took a bottle of champagne over to her mother’s table and filled their glasses herself.
She’d learned a long time ago that if she wanted to avoid a public scene, the best option was to cater to her mother’s pettiness. She only ever challenged it in private.
And she definitely wasn’t going to let their mom ruin her sister’s wedding. Stacey was happy right now, and she would stay that way if Amanda had anything to do with it.
Since she had about a quarter of the champagne left in the bottle, she wandered over to the next table to see if anyone else needed a top off. She grinned at Taylor, who was scowling down at her phone with a malevolent expression that was typical of her.
“It’s a wedding,” Amanda said, filling her friend’s half-empty glass. “Can’t you smile or chat or dance or something?”
Taylor’s gorgeous dark eyes widened in horror. “Dance? You think there’s any world in existence where I’d be likely to dance?”
Amanda laughed and glanced over at the man next to Taylor. Robert Castleman. He’d moved from the wall to the table and was watching her with a silently amused tilt to his lips. He’d been drinking scotch, but there was a half-empty champagne flute in front of him, so she topped it off as she replied to Taylor. “Not really. But a smile wouldn’t kill you, would it?”
“I hate weddings.”
“Yes. You hate weddings. And dressing up. And being friendly. And social events of any kind. I suppose we should be grateful you even managed to drag yourself here today.”
“You should definitely be grateful. I could be home with a book and a cup of tea and my dog right now, so I hope you appreciate the sacrifice.” Taylor was tall, slim, and gorgeous with sleek dark hair and perfect skin, but she never spent any time on her appearance. If she weren’t so oblivious to her beauty, it would be hard not to be jealous.