I marched up to Andrew and tapped his shoulder.

He turned, saw me, and held up his finger. He gave a few affirmative hums into the phone. There was a tense set to his jaw that I had never seen before. “Okay,” he said. “Talk to you later.” Then he hung up and stared at me expectantly.

Every curious bone in my body wanted to ask him who he’d been talking to, who had turned his normal smug expression serious, but I resisted. “What are you wearing?” I asked.

“Hi to you too.”

I hadn’t seen him since Mother’s Day. On purpose. He and Micah had invited me along to an in-depth tour of our tiny town a couple of weeks ago, and I had politely (probably not politely) declined. Micah had been serious when she told him that he now had a friend, and she was always good at following through on her declarations.

“Andrew, you can’t wear that,” I said.

He held his hands out to the sides. “It’s a tux. Have you seen one before? You wear them to events like weddings and galas and fund-raisers.” His tux was beyond fancy: obviously designer and tailored to fit him perfectly.

“Have you met the groom?” I said. “He’s from a middle-class working family. His dad is a construction worker and his mom is a schoolteacher. Are you trying to upstage him? He probably rented his tux in the next town over at the local mall. It would not surprise me if some guests come in jeans.” I paused for a breath. “And you’re not even a guest!”

Andrew looked down at his shoes, which I hadn’t noticed before but were black and white and, if possible, even nicer than his tux. “Oh.”

“I thought you said you’d spent time in a small town before this,” I hissed. Then I took his arm and dragged him into the house and down the hall to a room that wasn’t being used. I pulled us both inside, set the box of boutonnieres on an end table, and crossed my arms.

“You need to change,” I said.

“What?”

“Your clothes. You need to change.”

He raised his eyebrows and unbuttoned the top button of his jacket. “Like right now?”

“What? No!” I hated that my face got hot. “Just … wait. You can’t go out there in that tux.”

“I think you’re overreacting. Not that I’m surprised.”

“I promise you I’m not.”

He pointed to the window. “You’re worried about what I’m wearing when you should be worried about the rain.”

“Shh. Do not say that anywhere in the vicinity of the bride.”

He took in the room. “Is she in here somewhere?”

“I’m going to go and do some reconnaissance. See what the other guys in the wedding party are wearing. I’ll come back and let you know if you will feel like the biggest jerk if you keep that on … or only the second biggest.”

He sat on the arm of an overstuffed chair like he had all the time in the world. “Can’t wait to hear your report.”

“Are those cuff links?” I asked. “For the love of all that is holy …” I muttered as I picked up the box of flowers and let myself out of the room.

Down the hall, I reached the door that had been labeled Groom. I knocked. “Flower delivery.”

The door squeaked open and Mr. Johnson Sr. smiled at me. “Sophie Evans. Good to see you.”

“I have some pinning to do.”

He opened the door wider and I stepped inside.

“Son, come give this lovely lady your lapel to pin.”

The groom, Chad Johnson, stepped away from the window and turned to face me. He was glowing with happiness. “You think it’s fixin’ to rain, Sophie?”

“I don’t,” I said, praying I was right.

Chad stepped up to me. He looked nice in a basic black tux with a starched white shirt. But of course his tux was nowhere near as nice as Andrew’s. I pinned the rose onto his lapel and did the same for his father, who wore a simple black suit and red tie.

“Where are all the groomsmen?” I asked casually.

“I imagine they’re scattered about,” Chad said, straightening his bow tie.

“Okay, I guess I have my work cut out for me.” I turned to go. “And Chad, congratulations. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Chad said with a grin. “I’m a lucky guy.”

It took me longer than I’d hoped to find the four groomsmen—some were in the garden, taking selfies—but their basic suits confirmed what I already knew was true: Andrew was going to outshine the entire wedding party.

I quickly ran back inside, but instead of going to Andrew’s room, I went to the kitchen. “Micah, can I speak to you?” I asked my best friend when I found her.

She turned to me. “What’s up?”

“Does your dad still keep extra cater waiter pants and jackets in his trunk?”

“I think he has a few. Why?”

“Because golden boy wore an Armani today.”

“He did not!” she said. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who was appalled by this. “An Armani?”

“Well, I don’t know which designer exactly. But definitely a designer.”

“I’ll get you the keys.”

There was no way Mr. Williams was going to have Andrew’s exact size, but I hoped for something close. In the catering van, I dug through the box of uniforms, found my best guess, and went back to the room.

Andrew had actually waited for me. He was still in his tux, looking at pictures on his phone. I thrust the cater waiter jacket and pants out to him. “The ceremony starts in less than thirty minutes. You don’t have time to go home and change. So here is my solution.”

He held up the jacket like it had committed a crime. “What is your solution?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“Oh, you want me to wear this?” He laughed.

“At the very least, lose your jacket and tie, roll up your sleeves, and call it a day.” I gave him a tight smile and left to go make sure all the flowers had been tied to the chairs along the aisle.

The sky looked ominous. Dark clouds hung overhead like they were dying to ruin the day. I made my way to the ceremony area, where most of the seats were full, and adjusted a few flowers along the aisle that had jostled loose when guests had sat down. There was the low buzz of chattering all around. I heard the word rain several times.

A little girl of about six or seven with a basketful of rose petals came running up to me. “Flower lady, how do I drop these?” She held up the basket.

I looked around for potential parents but didn’t see anyone concerned that the flower girl was missing from her post. I smiled and led her back toward the house. “You come out right before the bride, and you just take a few petals at a time and drop them on that white aisle back there.”

“That’s what my mom said too, but I wanted to check.”

We made it to the back porch and she took off into the house, leaving me behind.

I was about to head to the reception area when I saw Chad walk out the door and straight toward the pergola. The first thing I noticed was that his boutonniere was crooked. The second thing I noticed was that he was wearing Andrew’s tux and he looked amazing. I couldn’t believe the suit fit him. I couldn’t believe any of it.

Chad swept past me, then walked down the aisle to stand under the rose-draped arch. It took me another second to shake off my shock and rush over to him.

“Let me fix your flower,” I whispered. “It’s crooked.”

“Thanks.”

“You changed,” I said, unpinning the rose.

“Yeah, Jett Hart’s kid delivered this up to my room. He said it was a gift.” He tugged on the bottom of the jacket. “I had no idea Jett was so generous. The tag said Burberry. I’ve never heard of this Burberry guy before but he makes a good suit.”

I straightened the flower and pinned it in place. “Yes, it’s amazing.” I gave his arm a pat then snuck off to the side and around the guests. I went back into the house and the room where I’d left Andrew, but he wasn’t there. Wherever he was, he was either wearing Chad’s rented tux or the cater waiter attire I’d brought him.

I really didn’t have time to keep looking. The ceremony was about to start, and while Chad and Janet were getting married, I had to put finishing touches on the reception area.