Claire came up behind me. “Why do you look like the cupcake confessed to murder?”
“Do you have Eric’s number?”
Her smile vanished. “Why?”
“Mia just told me Donna lied about him.”
My middle sister stared toward the dance floor. “That’s weird.”
I stood there holding a cupcake.
“Do you know something?”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“I swear.”
“Can you get his number?”
That’s weird.
She hesitated. “Probably.”
“Do it.”
“You’re investigating Donna at my wedding?”
“I prefer ‘multitasking.’”
“You’re terrifying.”
Claire snorted, then pulled out her phone.
I prefer ‘multitasking.’
***
I called him the next morning expecting a simple answer.
I didn’t get one.
“Eric?”
“Yes?”
“This is Emily. Donna’s sister.”
I called him expecting a simple answer.
There was a long pause.
“Is Donna okay?”
“She’s fine.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“I need to ask you something uncomfortable.”
Is Donna okay?
“That narrows it down.”
“Did you cheat on her?”
