of the bar, I wiggle my finger near the candle in the middle of our table.
“Yes, it’s beautiful,” my friend Linda says before leaning closer, the way she does when she’s been drinking.
The truth is that we’ve all been drinking.
Today, I broke the news of my engagement to Linda, Marcy, and Ashley, all friends of mine from work. I’ve been at this advertising agency for nearly four years, and when I started, Linda was my godsend, Marcy has the sweetest and most curious disposition, and Ashley started a year after me, and during the week and even on weekends, we’ve all been inseparable. When I announced my news this morning at work, I had no idea that Linda would call my sisters and arrange an impromptu engagement party.
Ashley lifts her hand in the air. “Another bottle of Moscato,” she shouts toward the bar.
Millie, my younger sister, shakes her head. “No, I have to drive back to Johnson.” She waves her hand over her nearly empty glass. “I need water.”
“No water, wine,” Linda says loudly. “Think of it as a miracle, water into wine. And an even greater miracle, Sami here is engaged.”
As everyone laughs, including me, I work to fake a pout. “It’s not a miracle. It’s my forever.”
Ashley lifts her glass. “To forever.”
“Forever,” Marcy says, emptying her glass and wiggling it in the air for more.
Linda tilts her head with a dreamy expression. “Tell us again how Jackson proposed.”
I take a deep breath. “On one knee.”
“Tell everyone where you were,” Millie chimes in.
“We were out to dinner at Sheffield’s.”
“The country club,” Linda adds. “Where he’s a member.”
“Yeah,” I reply, not wanting to flaunt Jackson’s money or his position. My fiancé—oh, that was fun to think—just made partner at a big law firm in Grand Rapids. It is all part of his plan—partner at the firm, wife, house, and family. I just am having a tough time believing that I am now a part of that plan. Not only a part. I will be his wife. He will be my husband.
“Do you have a date set?”
“No, Jack doesn’t want a long engagement.”
“Are we all going to be your bridesmaids?” Ashley asks.
“Who is your maid or matron of honor,” Jane, my older sister asks.
“She’ll pick me,” Millie says with a grin. “I’ve always been her favorite sister.”
“I think she should pick me,” Jane replies. “After all, I’m the oldest.”
Before I could respond, a deep voice spoke from behind me.
“I think she should pick me.”
The entire table turns, mouths agape at the man possessing the voice. I don’t need to turn. I’d know that voice anywhere, as well as the firm lips that land on my cheek at the same moment a strong hand lands on my shoulder. “After all, I’m her best friend.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Congratulations, Sami.”
Nearly spilling my glass of wine, I set it on the table and stand in time to be met with a broad hard chest. I wrap my arms around Marshal’s waist and lay my head against that solid torso. When I look up, I blink as his blue eyes shimmer in the bar’s illumination. “Why are you here?”
“Because I got a text telling me that my best friend is engaged.”
“I texted you yesterday, and you didn’t reply.”
“So, I’m a shitty best friend.”
“No, you’re not.” I say, my words slurring just a bit.
“Pull up a chair.” Jane’s direction is repeated by affirmations around the rest of the table.
When I turn, I see my sister’s knowing grin. “You told him we were here?” I accuse.
Jane smiles and leans back, lifting her hands. “I did it. I’m guilty as charged.”
In the time I’ve been looking at my older sister, Marshal has pulled up a chair right next to mine. Within seconds, one of the waitresses is at his side, taking his order and probably giving him her phone number. Once she walks away, I turn and lower my voice. With each word, I lean closer and closer, working to keep his blue orbs in focus. “I thought you were upset.”
“Upset that my best friend found her forever? Never.”
Inhaling, I’m filled with a sense of relief that I hadn’t realized I needed. “Thank you.”
“So am I going to be your man of honor?”
“Do they do that?” Ashley asks.
“I can do whatever I want,” I say. “I’m the bride.”
“What is that show?” Linda asks before answering her own question. “Bridezilla.”
I lean back, feeling Marsh’s arm on the back of my chair and sigh. “I’ve been imagining this feeling