Chapter 3

He froze, turning to stare at me in disbelief.

"When did you figure it out?"

"The moment I took your hand."

"I also know you're not one of Derek's groomsmen."

He still tried to deny it.

"Yes, I am!"

"Don't bother lying to me."

"I've met most of Derek's friends. None of them wear the cologne you have on."

"More importantly, the ones Derek hired wouldn't have agreed to carry me out."

"And they definitely wouldn't have spoken to me first."

He hadn't expected such small details to give him away. Finally, he admitted it.

"My name is Owen Hale. I'm not one of Derek's guys."

He glanced at me, his face full of barely concealed hope.

I frowned and searched my memory for the name. Nothing.

His expression fell. His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"We used to play together as kids. You don't remember me anymore."

When I was little, I was the neighborhood ringleader, handing out candy from my jar to anyone who wanted it. A lot of kids played with me. And anyway—I'm face blind.

"I honestly just came to see you in your wedding gown."

"Some guy told me to fill in for him, shoved the boutonniere into my hand, and took off."

"Just to see? Not to actually be today's groom?"

He hesitated.

But I didn't wait for an answer. I pointed to the side street and gave him an order.

"Trust me. Take this turn."

Our car slipped into the narrow road. None of the others followed.

One of the groomsmen got out and knocked on Derek's window.

"Derek, maybe we should follow your limo?"

Derek frowned. Before he could refuse, Bianca rolled down her window and smiled.

"Sure. I was actually thinking our wedding party looked a little small anyway."

Derek glanced in the direction we'd gone.

"But then Clara won't have a single car with her."

"Just say the rest got stuck in traffic. As long as everyone meets up at the hotel, it's fine."

Bianca looked at him and poked his back with one finger.

"You promised I'd get to feel like a bride today."

"You're not backing out, are you?"

Derek pushed down the unease creeping up his chest and kept his voice level.

"I'm not backing out."

Meanwhile, I had Owen pull up in front of City Hall.

"Did you bring your ID?"

He blinked, caught off guard, then quickly pulled out his driver's license.

I'd discovered this shortcut about two weeks earlier while test-driving the route. Back then, I'd thought about slipping in on the way to the venue to get the papers signed with Derek, so I'd been carrying my documents in my pocket ever since.

"So—are you willing to register this with me and be the real groom at today's wedding?"

"Wait. I need to make a call first."

Owen didn't answer right away. He pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Mom. I'm getting married in an hour."

"You and Dad need to get to the Grand Ballroom on the third floor of the Grand Plaza Hotel right now. Have them change today's groom name to mine."

"Especially the welcome sign at the entrance—take it down completely."

"I'll bring the bride over soon."

He hung up and finally grinned at me.

"Okay. Now we're good."

We walked out of City Hall with the marriage certificate in hand.

My anger was starting to fade, but Owen reached over and took the certificate from me immediately.

"Wedding gowns don't have pockets. I'll hold onto this."

My phone rang. The screen said "Mom." I answered.

Her anxious voice came through right away.

"Clara, the wedding's about to start—where are you guys?"

I lied without missing a beat.

"We got a flat tire on the way. It's fixed. We'll be there soon."

My mom let out a relieved breath.

"Good. Then hurry over."

My mom has this habit—she never hangs up first. She always waits for the other person to end the call.

Thinking I'd already hung up, she turned to Derek and said.

"Clara's fine. Just a flat tire."

"You two start your ceremony first. Don't worry about her."

"The stand-ins for her wedding are all arranged. Nothing will go wrong."