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corner of her mouth.  Chelsea understandably veered away, motioning her empty drink towards Lila.
    “This is Lila James.  My coworker, and lesbian lover.”
    Lila’s eyes widened in Chelsea’s.
    “No shit, cuz. So you’re a box muncher now?”
    Chelsea snatched Lila away.  “And that’s just the first family member,” she mumbled as she and Lila finally made it to their seats at Table 1.
    The bride and groom’s seats were the only one’s still unoccupied at the ten-seat table. Chelsea quickly introduced Lila to her immediate family members, including her mother and father, as they settled into their seats.
    Once again, she introduced Lila as her lesbian lover.
    “She’s kidding.” Lila smiled, with a bashful wave.  “I’m sure you guys know Chelsea’s sense of humor.”
    Chelsea’s mother wasn’t laughing.  “We know,” she confirmed, dryly.
    “Mommy and Daddy never really ‘got me.’ ” Chelsea made finger quotes to Lila before flagging down a passing server and pointing to her empty glass.   “Double vodka cranberry, please, on the fly.  And keep them coming.  These are my relatives,” she explained, motioning to her family.
    The server winked at her.  “Say no more.  Double vodka cranberry, coming right up.”
    Lila watched Chelsea, unsure of what angle to take with her family.  The vibe at the table was cold.  No one was going out of his or her way to make eye contact with anyone else.   They opted, instead, to appear preoccupied with whatever was going on in the room around them.  To be fair, there were a lot of interesting characters milling around.
    Lila spoke up. “I actually work with Chelsea at Harvard.”
    That caught Chelsea’s mother’s attention.  She was an elderly woman whose hair was still platinum blonde.  Her skin was tight, rubbery, and when her blue eyes met Lila’s, they appeared disinterested.
    “We met about a year ago,” Lila said with a nod.  When no one seemed in a big hurry to reply, she went to awkwardly fill the silence.  “It’s actually a funny story--”
    Her eyes flew to the stage when the sound of someone tapping the microphone boomed across the room.  The microphone screamed out at the abuse, prompting many of the guests to cover their ears at the unbearable noise.
    All conversation came to a halt.
    “Sorry about that.” A woman who looked exactly like Chelsea spoke bashfully into the microphone. Her blonde hair stretched halfway down her back in perfect spirals, tumbling into her blue eyes as she leaned away from the backfiring microphone.  If her tight white mini dress and baby veil were any indication, this was the lovely bride to be.
    “My darling sister,” Chelsea confirmed to Lila.
    “She is absolutely stunning.”
    “She is,” Chelsea agreed.  “Too bad she knows it.”
    “Where’s the groom?”  Lila asked the question just in time to see the man of the hour step on the stage.  He was in the midst of unbuttoning the jacket of his flawless suit, tossing it open and shoving his hand in his pocket.  He jingled the keys in his pocket anxiously, and the microphone caught the muffled sound.
    Lila knew that move.  She’d known it even before he turned towards the reception hall with a forced smile on his face.
    The air flew from her lungs.  All logical thought disappeared from her busy mind.  She almost shattered the cocktail glass between her fingers.
    Chelsea was squinting up at the stage in question.  She wavered.
    “Wait a second…” Turning to Lila, Chelsea cocked an eyebrow.  “Isn’t that the guy?… The Greek God?”
    “That is the Greek God,” Lila seethed.  “Otherwise known as the Greek Asshole, Jack Almeida.”  She threw down her napkin and, without another word, stood from the table.  Her action caused her chair to creak loudly across the shiny marble floors.
    So loudly that it succeeded in swiping the attention of every individual in the room off the bride, and onto her.
    Including Jack