Vegas Knot (✔️) | Love Travels #1

Twenty-Four

Divya's ceremony might not be what her parents were hoping for, but her reception dinner is a thing of beauty. And mercifully she's seated only herself and Raj at the head table, so I'm free to hide in my shell with Lorena, Carla, and Enrique at a small table near the cake display.

And an hour later, we're still being brought food.

"What is this?" Enrique asks as the waiter places something green and cake-like onto the table in front of him.

The waiter doesn't answer, so he turns to me as though I should know.

"What made you think I'm the person to ask that question?" I laugh. "If you'd ever seen me cook, you definitely wouldn't be looking at me like that."

"Knowing how to cook and knowing what food is are two completely separate skill sets," he answers, digging his fork into the strange gelatin-filled pudding.

"That's true," Carla says, mouth full of food. "My mother has very discerning tastes but that woman could burn water."

Enrique opens his mouth to protest but decides against it. One thing he has going for him. He learns fast.

I take the smallest bite and something slightly minty fills my mouth just as the photographer comes to snap some candid shots of us sitting at the table.

"And one more with smiles," he instructs, counting down from three and then unleashing his unholy bright flash on our faces.

"I'm going to be seeing spots for weeks," Enrique blinks, holding onto my arm as if it will keep him from falling over.

"He's taken pictures of us at least fifteen times," Lorena whispers behind her hand. "How many more could he possibly need?"

The man looks like he's used to much larger crowds, and has nothing to do with himself in such a small area. Leave it to Divya to hire someone fancy for an elopement.

My eyes wander the tables to all the happy couples and good friends celebrating Divya and Raj, so I don't notice when Divya gets up and takes the microphone to request we all make our way to the party tent.

Admittedly she doesn't call it the party tent. That's just how we have referred to it since its inception. It looms larger than the dining tent, almost entirely filled with a makeshift dance floor.

"Do you want me to grab you some punch or pop or something before we go over?" Enrique asks. "Water?"

"I'm all right," I answer. "Just a little warm."

"I'll get you a punch. Be right there. You go ahead with the girls."

The cool air of the night stings my arms as soon as I leave the tent, following the flow of the small crowd down the lit path toward the larger tent.

My mind wanders to the stars, visible so clearly in the desert sky. That night under the clearest skies we'd ever seen when Enrique and I had... kissed. It seemed like maybe we were going to be okay, but now. Now he thinks I'm a mistake. Except he's still getting me punch.

I cannot figure this man out.

Probably just keeping up appearances for our deal.

But if that's all it is, why does he want me to go back with him so badly? What's he get out of this?

"Hey, slow poke!" Lorena calls out to me. "You don't find your way in here, we're starting without you." She pauses for a second before calling more loudly. "You too, lover boy!"

I can't bring myself to look behind me, instead fixing my stare on Emiko lacing her arm through Tyrone's and resting her head on his shoulder. Her sparkling silver gown drapes gently down her picture perfect form and rests in a small pile behind her feet. The train looks like it billows out to perfection every time she even thinks about taking a step.