“So that’s okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Reese was trying to concentrate on what Drake was saying but having a difficult time. Her eyes kept straying to the table plan and wondering how on Earth she was supposed to subtly seat her single friends near each other to mingle without making them feel like they were being put on a losers’ table or being set up. All she wanted to do was make sure they didn’t feel like the odd ones out in a wedding of couples and families… eloping looked like a better idea every day.

“Reese, what did you just agree to?”

“Uhh… I’m sorry, I have no idea.”

“What is it this time, flowers or dress?”

“Table plan.”

“You know, I’m going to be so happy once we’re married and I get my woman back,” he joked.

“So what did I agree to again?”

“Bachelor party.”

“Oh, right. That’s fine so long as they don’t leave it until the night before the wedding… are strippers going to be involved?”

“The idea of a strip club was brought up but I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

“Hmm…” She weighed that one up in her head. Where was the line between being a wife who understood guys’ night and an idiot who should only expect trouble if she was dumb enough to give permission? “I’m okay with looking but strictly no touching.”

“Nah, it’s okay, I’m kind of over those places anyway. I was thinking some beers and pool. Though, major girlfriend points for the cool answer. But seriously, you know these guys can get rowdy and I don’t wanna make a big thing of it if you’re not comfortable.”

“Like I said, I just want a decent enough gap between the party and the wedding so you don’t look hungover in the photos. Beyond that you should have at it, babe, have some fun.”

“What about you, the girls got anything planned?”

That would have been Nadine’s remit, but since Nadine was seriously in the doghouse at the moment and she was barely speaking to her it was up in the air. On the one hand, she knew that Nadine had only done it out of love. She was taking the swipe that Reese couldn’t - standing up for her friend and pissing Justin off, which was always a bonus. It was her being protective; the problem was that it was also deeply insensitive and that was the part she couldn’t get over. Nadine might have been a big personality and easily be termed a bitch by people who didn’t know her too well, she had that slight cattiness in the way she asserted herself sometimes, but it was unlike her to be so thoughtless.

It was particularly awkward because Drake had picked up on the tension yet was unable to fathom where it had come from. He’d worked out that something had happened at the party, but Reese had no desire to go into the back story with him. For one thing it was painful, and for another it was a blight she didn’t want on her new relationship. The ‘ex’ conversation had come up for all of two seconds before they had mutually agreed they didn’t need to know how many people the other had slept with or their romantic history, and she liked it that way: a clean slate, no assumptions or judgments or past worries to cause jealousy or doubts. But she knew that if he knew about her past, she would feel disadvantaged and like she was more open to him than he was to her – that would only lead to her wanting something from him to even things up and that wasn’t fair.

“Not as far as I know.”

“Well you should do something. I’ll even be okay with a stripper so long as he doesn’t get his junk out.”

Reese laughed. “Oh those guys always look so orange and oily. I’ll pass.”

“That’s my girl. But if you got a problem with oil you’re marrying the wrong man, mechanic and all.”

“Different kind of oil, babe.”

“Anyway, my break’s over so I gotta run but you want to meet me at the diner at eight?”

“Eight? You working late again?” She frowned.

“Hey, these big fancy weddings don’t pay for themselves you know.”

“I know, but…”

“I know, I know. You don’t want me exhausting myself over it and we can always downsize and yadda yadda. Does it ever occur to you that maybe I want to do this for you?”

“But you don’t have to, I don’t want you to feel like…”

“I know. I don’t have to, I want to. Chill out, woman.”

“Okay,” she sighed, still not quite believing him. “Eight then.”

“Cool. Gotta run, love you baby.”

“Love you.”

The dial tone sounded in her ear and she pushed back from her desk with a frown. Strictly speaking she ought to have been working, but her job as a secretary in a sleepy legal practice left her plenty of time to pursue her own whims. Once upon a time she’d been a personal assistant at a much bigger firm, but this job was a lot less stress and the money wasn’t that much lower, all things considered. Drake didn’t make much but they had their eye on a small house in the next town over that they should be able to afford with minimal scrimping. Luckily he was very low maintenance and she’d long since lost her taste for designer bags and shoes.

In general, Drake had been just what she needed when she needed it. When he’d first come over to talk to her in the club, she’d judged him on his rough edges and assumed he was merely another idiot who wanted to bed her and leave her the next morning. He’d had the measure of her though – he’d realised what she was thinking after her withering dismissal, called her out on it and challenged her to challenge her prejudices. She’d agreed on a date more to save face than anything; she’d gone to prove she wasn’t some snob the way he seemed to accuse of being, and boy was she glad she had. She’d arrived at the dinner already keeping a weary eye on her watch and wondering how long she’d be obliged to stay, but Drake had been charming and polite with exactly the right splash of teasing naughtiness. They’d stayed until they were kicked out, walked back to her apartment together and before she’d known it she was in a whirlwind and getting married. It was uncharacteristically fast for her to move in a relationship, but he felt too good not to go for it.

Lord knew she’d earned something good after the serious amount of bad she’d already been put through.

***

Looking impatiently at her watch, Reese tapped her fingers listlessly against the table. It was now quarter past eight, she was starving and Drake wasn’t picking up his phone. It wasn’t unusual for him to work late – he was a sucker for a sob story about how the car just couldn’t wait until tomorrow – but he usually called her first. The problem was she wasn’t sure whether he was going to be really late and she should order now, or if he was on his way and it’d be rude not to wait for him. Ordering for him wasn’t a problem, she knew what he liked, but there was little point if it was only going to sit there and get cold. So patiently she continued to sit and wait, trying to ignore the growling of her stomach.

She almost jumped out of the booth when a basket of fries was dropped down in front of her. When she looked up, Trace Ayala was sliding into the red vinyl seat opposite where her fiancé was supposed to be.

“I can hear your stomach from the counter. Save my arteries and help me eat these.”

Trace hadn’t turned up to the party in the end; she was too proud to ask why. As a consequence, their last meeting had been in the supermarket where she had rather unkindly likened him to a dog. This gesture was very like Trace – rather than confront the situation, he would pretend nothing had ever happened. When it was small things like a grocery store tiff, that was good; when it was larger things about one of his friends cheating on another the head in the sand plan was somewhat lacking.

“See this is the difference between you and me,” she smiled nervously. “For their fries I don’t care.”

“I don’t really either but don’t you girls keep sayin’ that if you share ‘em the calories don’t count? I might as well take advantage.”

Reese chuckled, gingerly picking up a fry in one hand and the other stirring her Coke with the straw. “Wow, you do learn. Wonders never cease.”

“So you waiting for Nadine, or the future Mr Bennington?”

“Drake,” she nodded.

“Cool. Did the party go okay, you have a good time?”

Immediately she dropped the straw and glared at him. “Did he send you here to fish for information?”

“No, I was just doing the whole polite thing. He won’t say a damn thing about it so I figured that either you or Nadine shot him down good. Probably Nadine, she’s way more of a bitch than you.”

“Hey.” Even when on the outs, she felt the need to defend her friend.

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Trace chuckled. “She uses her bitch powers for good. Usually.”

“Sorry,” she sighed. “I just…”

“Got your back up after he screwed you over. Been there, get that.” He patted her hand.

“You have?” She asked in surprise.

“Yeah. Since I last saw you I managed to lose me a fiancée. She cheated.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’m over it. Mostly.”

“Sucks, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” He looked down at the fries on the table between them and for a minute Reese saw a strange expression in his eyes, a sadness she wouldn’t have thought him capable of. Trace was so laid back he was practically horizontal, as Nadine might say, it was rare to see him anything but quietly upbeat. “But hey, you seem to have landed on your feet. Everyone I meet is going on about why wasn’t I at the engagement party and oh don’t they make a cute couple.”

“Hah,” Reese snorted. “Same people were gossiping about him, all ‘got that no good look to him’ five minutes ago. Amazing what actually meeting somebody can do for your opinion of them.”

“Nick gave him the seal of approval so I figure that’s good enough for me. So when’s the big day?”

“A month Saturday.”

“Panicking yet?”

“Not yet but I might if I don’t work out the table plan soon.”

“Just don’t sit me next to Old Man Jacobs, I beg you. The guy sucks his teeth.”

“Oh, I…”

“Weren’t going to invite me? I’m hurt, boo.”

“No, it’s not that…” Reese was seriously surprised and couldn’t disguise it. “I just figured you’d be in LA with Justin. That and we haven’t talked in so long I wasn’t sure you’d care, but it was more the LA thing.”

“Err, Reese…” Trace pulled at his collar uncomfortably. He was about to be the bearer of bad news and he could only imagine how she was going to take it. He suspected it wouldn’t be pleasant and as the messenger that made him nervous. He had no wish to be shot metaphorically or otherwise. “I definitely care, but… you do know that Justin and me are going to be in town for a while?”

Reese’s knuckles went white, gripping her soda glass. “Tell me he’s not here while the wedding’s on.”

“Okay, he’s not here while the wedding’s on. But just so you know, I’m lying.”

“Oh God…”

Trace felt horrible. He’d had no idea that Reese’s wedding was going to be so soon – he hadn’t heard anything from his mom about invitations and had assumed they hadn’t gone out, since she’d updated him on all other details. Although the Timberlake, Ayala and Bennington children were having their issues the parents were still as close as ever. Ill advised as it had been, he’d known that Justin’s choice of timing had been about the engagement party. Try as he might he’d been unable to sway the particularly stubborn pop star from attending, but had figured it would be an opportunity for him to wake up and see that Reese was happy and it was time to move on. Although he’d known it would bother Reese he’d thought that in the long term it would help her as well as Justin, let him get some closure. Sticking around for so long after wasn’t unusual, he was between albums and had been bitching a lot about the paparazzi recently so going home for a break hadn’t been a bad idea.

However, now he knew that they’d still be here when Reese’s wedding was happening, he was less sure. There was no point in asking Justin about it, he’d only deny any prior knowledge. Still, you’d have to be stupid not to wonder - and despite many claims to the contrary Trace was not stupid.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“Obviously.” Mad as she was, she knew he wouldn’t have asked when the wedding was if he hadn’t already known. Trace had always been a horrible actor; he’d always been the one to get them caught in high school. “Lord, is he determined to piss me off?”

“I don’t know… shit, I didn’t want this to be about Justin, I really just wanted to catch up and see how you were.”

Before she could answer, she saw her fiancé bounding through the restaurant on his long legs. Panting slightly he dropped his long frame into the booth next to her, pushing a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m so sorry baby, I was on time for once and then I slipped on a friggin’ oil leak right when I was leaving, had to run home and change. You order?”

“Not yet. Oh, Trace Ayala this is Drake Turner. Trace is an old family friend.”

“So this is the lucky guy, eh? Pleased to meet you.” Trace held out a hand which Drake congenially shook.

“Good to meet you, bro. Haven’t seen you around before?”

“Oh, I moved out to LA a while back, just come home for the family gigs and vacation or whatever. Reese says you’re not from these parts?”

Reese hadn’t, so guessed Justin had. She thanked Trace for that small piece of tact.

“Atlanta, originally, but been here so long this is home now anyways.” Drake draped a warm arm around Reese as he spoke, and she huddled in under it, toying with his shirt in her fingers beneath the table, out of sight. “So family friend, did you say babe?”

“Mmhmm. Trace’s mom and mine have been friends for ages back, Trace is the one who used to get me in all the trouble in high school.”

“Hey, you were the one who talked me into all of that.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, but you were the idiot who couldn’t tell a cover story to save his hide. Or mine, more to the point.”

“Yeah, she used to smile and bat her eyelashes and get right out of trouble while I’d get enough detention for the both of us.”

“Oh really now?” Drake laughed. “And here I thought I was marrying a good girl.”

“You are. Mostly. Hey!” Trace said in mock protest as she threw a fry at his nose.

“Keep it up Ayala and you’re off the invite list.”

The two boys started some very civil ‘getting to know you’ chat, and apart from the odd interjection to avert suspicion Reese stayed quiet. How was it that Justin had only been back in her life for five measly minutes and he was still managing to cause chaos? She didn’t want this. She was happy, she was okay, she was about to get married and settle into a wonderfully boring but contented life. The last thing she needed was for him to run back in and start bringing trouble down on her head. Didn’t she deserve an easy ride, this time?

Maybe she was being paranoid, or too full of herself. Maybe it was wrong to assume he cared and had made all these plans for her. It was entirely possible that he’d come home not knowing about the engagement party or the wedding but had merely taken the opportunity he found when he got there. Being petty enough to bait her over everything didn’t mean he cared enough to really start anything. She had no proof except her general conviction that he was a bastard with a talent for hurting her, so it was a real possibility that she was being too hysterical.

So why did she have a horrible feeling that he had other ideas?