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Twenty-Six

Ari’s brain short-circuited.

The staff member—a woman in a crisp uniform with an expression that could melt steel—stepped inside and folded her arms. ‘Would you like to explain why you’re rifling through someone’s personal belongings?’

Ari opened her mouth. No words came out.

The woman’s eyes flicked to the necklace. ‘And what, exactly, do you think you’re doing with that?’

OK. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Ari could talk her way out of a lot of things. But this? This wasbad.

She cleared her throat. ‘I’m…’

The staff member crossed her arms. ‘Do I need to call security?’

Ari pressed on, forcing her most innocent expression. ‘Look, this isn’t what it looks like. I mean, I understand what it looks like, but that’s not what’s happening. You see, this necklace… Have you ever… You know how… The thing is…’

Nancy made a quiet groan.

Ari’s mind scrambled for a good excuse. Nothing came to her. She could just apologise. Except that would involve admitting guilt. She could make a run for it. Except she’d have to commit to a full-on sprint through a house full of wedding guests and security. Not ideal.

She settled for panicked silence.

Twenty-Seven

Nancy sighed. She was going to have to handle this.

It didn’t take but a second to decide on an approach. She stepped forward, all charm and confidence. It wasn’t a role that came naturally to her—smooth wasn’t usually her style—but she was trying to channel what Ari would do if she weren’t in a full-blown panic.

‘You know what? I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.’ She let out a breezy laugh, resting a hand lightly on Ari’s shoulder as if they were merely caught up in some adorable mix-up. ‘My friend here is just a bit of a disaster, bless her heart.’

Ari gaped at her. Nancy sighed, as if exhausted by the sheer complexity of the situation, and launched in.

‘Right, so. I know how thislooks, but Ari wasreturningthe necklace. She borrowed it earlier because there was this whole mix-up with the bride’ssomething borrowed. You know how these things go, emotions were running high, there weretears, and somewhere in the chaos, Ari ended up with the necklace.’ She let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe it either. ‘Naturally, the moment she realised the mistake, she wanted to put it back. Discretion was key—youunderstand—weddings are delicate ecosystems. One wrong word, and suddenly Aunt Patricia isn’t speaking to the Maid of Honour, and the florist is threatening to leave because ofvibes. So, really, she was doing thesensiblething by slipping it back without causing a scene.’

Nancy widened her eyes, radiating weary patience. ‘I mean, you can imagine what would’ve happened if she’daskedfor permission to return it. It would’ve become athing. People would overreact. The last thinganyonewants is to stress out the bride. So, technically, Ari was doing aservicehere. Just badly.’

Ari, catching on, nodded solemnly. ‘Yeah. I can see that now.’

The staff member blinked, visibly trying to untangle the mess she’d just been handed. But Nancy looked so reasonable, sotiredby it all, that pushing further would mean getting dragged even deeper. The staff member exhaled sharply through her nose and nodded. ‘Fine. Just go back to your rooms. And don’t touch anything else.’

‘Oh, never again,’ Nancy assured her, already steering Ari toward the door.

‘Of course,’ Ari added, already backing toward the door.

The moment they were out in the hallway, Nancy grabbed Ari’s arm and dragged her toward the staircase. She flicked a look over her shoulder to see the woman lock the door.

‘You are not allowed to talk your way out of things anymore,’ Nancy whispered fiercely. ‘I was in physical pain listening to you.’

‘Hey, I was getting there!’ Ari protested. ‘I just needed a second round of excuses!’

Nancy groaned.

Ari sighed dramatically but allowed herself to be led away. ‘Fine. But for the record, I totally could’ve handled that.’

Nancy muttered, ‘Yeah. That’s what I was afraid of.’

‘I had it. I bloody had it!’ Ari cried, frustrated. ‘It was in my hands.’