“I was so happy for them.” She sniffled and reached for her napkin to dab her eyes, drying the moisture.

Tyler looked from Amanda to his grandmother and back again, feeling not just like an outsider, but a cynic. His grandmother was sentimental, yes, but to cry about a wedding?

“And why did everyone turn out for this particular wedding?” he asked, trying to indulge his grandmother even while fighting to hide his irritation. What kind of town was Marietta that everyone was excited about a wedding?

“Well, Rory is a Douglas.”

“The acting family? Kirk, Michael, etcetera?” he replied.

“No. The Douglases of Paradise Valley. A local ranching family.”

“I’m sorry, they don’t mean anything to me,” he answered.

His grandmother’s jaw firmed. “Well, your father knew them. He went to school with Rory’s father, and played sports, although to be fair, your father was a much better athlete—”

“Gram, I don’t know them.”

“They had a tragedy at their ranch. It’s why the community cares so much about Rory, Quinn, and McKenna. Marietta loves and protects its own.”

“Well, Bette, to be fair, the town loves and protects some of its own.”

Tyler heard the mocking note in Mandy’s voice and he turned his attention to her, focusing on the set of her jaw and the press of her lips. She suddenly didn’t look as vivid and luminous as she had a few minutes ago. “Not everyone is equally embraced here?”

There was a flicker in her expression, a tiny tightening at her eyes, but before she could speak, his grandmother did. “Mandy has worked very hard for her success. I couldn’t be prouder of her.”

“Enough about me,” Amanda answered, her faintly ironic smile returning. “Let’s think about dinner. I hope you’re both hungry, because I’m starving!”

Two hours later, dinner was over and Amanda was climbing the stars to her upstairs apartment, wondering how someone as small and nonintimidating as Bette could have strong-armed Amanda into agreeing to take Tyler out with her friends for drinks after work tomorrow, even though Amanda’s friends didn’t do drinks on Wednesdays.

When Amanda had tried to say something of that nature, Bette dismissed her with a wave. “You do get together, don’t you?”

“We do different things. Play pool or Yahtzee or cards—”

“Tyler likes all of those things. He’s a bit of a card shark, too,” his grandmother answered, “not that he’ll admit it.”

Amanda glanced at Tyler, giving him the chance to object, but he just shrugged. “It’d be great to meet your friends.”

And so Amanda was stuck, and as she unlocked her front door, she told herself she didn’t hate him, but she certainly wasn’t happy to spend another evening with him, particularly not so soon.

She didn’t hate him, she thought, locking the door behind her and turning on the hall lights, because he wasn’t crass or arrogant or obnoxious. He was just…well, him. Smart, successful, attractive.

He looked like a romance cover model, carried himself like a professional athlete, and apparently was one of the most successful game developers in America today. Most women would love him. They’d say he was the complete package, and an amazing catch, and Amanda might even have been one of them, but that would have been before she knew he was Bette’s grandson.

And now that she knew who he was, she really wanted to avoid him, but Bette had other plans. But there were lots of people who would be better tour guides than her. Rory and Sadie. Troy and Taylor. Trey and McKenna. Even her sister Charity would be better because Charity worked in real estate now and loved doing the whole here-is-Marietta-isn’t-it-wonderful song and dance. Amanda wasn’t interested in selling Marietta, and she definitely wasn’t interested in making more awkward, small talk with Tyler. She and Tyler could fake being cordial in front of Bette, but they would never be real friends.

In her room, Amanda changed into her pajamas, pulled her hair into a ponytail and washed her face. After applying one for favorite night creams, she brushed her teeth, and went to the cozy little living room with the steeply vaulted ceiling to watch TV. She clicked through her list of recorded programs and selected a rom com she’d taped but hadn’t seen yet and was just watching the opening scene when her sister Charity called.

“We have to cancel tomorrow night,” Charity said, when she answered.

Amanda paused her movie.