A five-minute chat with the poor woman at the ticketing booth sorted the problem of Rick’s ticket, who had ventured from Japan to attend the wedding. As Fredrick had as much Asian blood as his dog, I assumed he was one of Mat’s overly rich businessmen friends with more money than sense.
Did being an overly rich businessman count as something severely wrong with him? After a fierce but brief debate with myself, I decided I needed to gather additional information before issuing a verdict.
“So, about that ball and chain,” he said after we entered the gardens. “I really must know.”
“It weighs about eighty pounds, it cost me a small fortune, and it would have looked terrible with her dress. I informed her I would recruit the rest of the bridesmaids to haul it to the altar if she tried to run. She obviously believed me.”
“Would you sell me that ball and chain, please? I’ll pay good money for it.”
“As I have no use for a solid iron ball and chain that was painted white and equipped with the best lock money could buy for below two hundred, consider it yours. Happy belated birthday—assuming it’s not your birthday today.”
He stumbled a few steps and gaped at me. I took advantage of the opportunity to make my escape, cutting through the first topiary maze to catch up with the rest of the wedding party. Mat would just love having to deliver an eighty pound ball and chain to his friend, a gift from his little sister.
Not.
For the first time that day, I truly laughed.
The pond in the heart of the gardens made the ideal place for wedding photographs. As I had expected trouble from the very beginning, I’d learned every shortcut through the place to reach the first stop of our picture tour.
Despite waiting for Rick and dealing with his ticket, I beat the rest of the wedding party to the pond. Ben chuckled and waited for me to catch my breath.
“And you laughed at me for spending so much time over the weekends jogging in the gardens.”
“I’m impressed but also concerned. Your brother texted me that you might be late. Make yourself as pretty as an ugly duckling can. I’ll do your solo shots now. Else, the harpy might try to cut you out of the photographs completely.”
“That would annoy my brother, but I can’t say I don’t deserve being cut out at this point. Am I mussed or sweaty?”
“Surprisingly, no.”
“Take pictures.” I even smiled for him, as bridesmaids were supposed to look happy for the bride at her wedding. I doubted I’d be able to look anything other than flustered and annoyed once Amy showed up. I’d try, but I’d never been good at dealing with people who created unnecessary trouble for me.
Who had time for that crap?
Ben shook his head and sighed. “You could try posing.”
“No one told me I had to pose for this wedding.” I posed my middle finger in the upright position. To enhance my no fucks left to give image, I stuck out my tongue.
Ben, being Ben, dutifully photographed my immaturity. “How classy, Hope.”
I leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree and showed him both of my middle fingers. “Is this better?”
“Attempt to look demur for once in your life. I’ll take pleasantly puzzled if you can’t handle the demur look.”
“How about the total badass look?”
“No. You’re not a badass. You’re usually tired and easily annoyed but hide it well. Badasses kick butt, take names, and go home a crowned queen. You go home more like a battered servant.”
Damn. Ben didn’t pull his punches. “This game sucks.”
“I can work with a pretty pout and dewy eyes.”
“Gross. I’m not a broodmare up for auction.”
“For today, you really are. Just remind yourself it’ll make your brother happy. If you can’t handle a dewy pout without help, remember you can’t smack the bride.”
“That’s so stupid. Why not? After what she did this morning, she deserves it.” I targeted Ben with my most disappointed frown. “You’re enjoying my pain too much.”
“If you’re good, I’ll take you out for milkshakes tomorrow night.”
After frantically dieting to fit into a dress that Amy had deliberately purchased two sizes too small, I’d cut someone for a milkshake. A milkshake might turn the train wreck of my life around—and help me fit back into my real wardrobe, which was of a healthy size rather than designed for a skeleton barely wrapped in flesh.