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Me: Who is this? As if I didn’t know.

The response comes immediately:I’m still watching. Let’s see how long you keep up the façade.

Heat blooms low in my belly. I should be annoyed, but I rifle through my suitcase, pulling out the navy blue cocktail dress I packed as a backup. It hugs my curves in all the right places, the neckline dipping just low enough to be interesting without crossing into unprofessional territory.

As I slip it on, I tell myself I'm not doing it because he asked. I'm doing it because navy is a flattering color and the welcome party is at an upscale venue that requires cocktail attire.

I am a terrible liar, even to myself.

The welcome party is in full swing when I arrive at the botanical garden pavilion. Fairy lights twinkle in the trees, a live band plays something jazzy and upbeat, and waiters circulate with champagne and hors d'oeuvres. I spot Catherine immediately, radiant in a blush pink dress, holding court with a group of relatives.

I make my way to her side, slipping effortlessly into the role of supportive best friend. We take selfies, chat with guests, check on details with the coordinator. I'm so absorbed in my duties that I almost forget about Matt.

Almost.

"You look beautiful," comes his voice from behind me, low and warm against my ear.

I turn to find him standing closer than strictly necessary, looking unfairly handsome in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Forearms were never sexy to me before… but his? His eyes move over me appreciatively, lingering on the blue fabric.

"You look nice," I say.

"You obeyed my instructions," he observes, nodding at my dress.

"Pure coincidence," I lie. "Blue is my color."

"It is," he agrees. His fingers brush my bare shoulder, so lightly I could almost imagine it. "Brings out the gold in your eyes."

Before I can respond, Catherine appears, looping her arm through mine. "Jackie! There you are. We need you for the game!"

"Game?" I echo, a note of dread creeping into my voice.

"'How Well Do You Know the Bride'!" She's practically vibrating with excitement. "All my closest friends are playing. It'll be fun!"

My stomach drops. A public quiz about Catherine's life and preferences? This is my actual nightmare.

Matt's eyes gleam with something between amusement and triumph. "Yes, Jackie, how could you miss the game? I'm sure you'll ace it, being such old friends and all."

I shoot him a look that could curdle milk.

"I'll be watching," he murmurs as Catherine drags me away.

Of course he will. Watching and waiting for me to slip up, to reveal that I don't actually know Catherine's favorite song or her childhood pet's name or where she spent her sixteenth birthday. I studied the dossier. I should be fine.

I am not fine.

The game is exactly as excruciating as I feared. The wedding coordinator reads questions from cards while Catherine's actual friends answer confidently. I rely on a combination of lucky guesses, vague answers, and the cheat sheet I'd memorized. I recall Catherine's favorite color (lavender), food (sushi), and vacation spot (Santorini). Basic information that could have been gleaned from any social media deep dive.

I'm holding my own until the coordinator asks, "What was Catherine's most embarrassing moment in college that only her closest friends know about?"

Shit.

This isn't on any cheat sheet.

I glance at Catherine, who's watching expectantly, then at the other bridesmaids, who all seem to know exactly what the answer is. My mind races through possibilities. Was it a drunken party mishap? A wardrobe malfunction? A regrettable hookup?

"Pass," I say finally, forcing a laugh. "Some stories are too good to share in mixed company."

There's an awkward pause. Catherine's smile falters slightly.