"Are you on prenatal vitamins? Do it, your hair and nails will thank me. And it's good for the baby, too."
"You're gonna need hair extensions. This is not bride hair."
"He looks like a lawyer. Are you a lawyer? A banker? What d'you do, honey?"
"Jennifer Lopez had a pink diamond when she was engaged to Ben Affleck."
"Is that his Range Rover outside? That's special."
"And that marriage didnotoccur. Look at the bullet she dodged."
"Where is that corkscrew? It's two o'clock on aholidayand I don't have a glass of wine. This is why I like screw caps."
"You need a shellac manicure. Tell your boyfriend to get you one, it looks like he can afford it."
"You know who he looks like? That one that I like from that show, you know which one."
"Oh, yeah, I like that one, too. But I think he's married. Or gay. Or gay married."
"What kind of cut is this? It's not princess and it's not brilliant."
"Maybe it was an accident. It's supposed to be one cut or another, not roundandsquare."
"We don't say gay married anymore. It's just married. It's not politically correct."
"Who can keep up with politically correct? My God, it's a nightmare."
"Are those real Tory Burch flats or the knockoffs?"
"Oh my God, I love your dress. Can I try it on? My boobs are obviously bigger but that's not a problem. I like them to be out there and allhello!"
"You should see my Louis Vuitton knockoff. It's amazing. You'd never know."
Now, with voices spinning around Tiel like an estrogen-fueled tornado, I understood why she struggled with big, noisy families. Hell, I was ready for a stiff drink and a quiet corner, and I wasn't the one stuck in the eye of the storm.
"Irene, Demitria, Nicki, Nikki, Penny, Agapi," Vikram called. "Your mothers need your help in the kitchen."
The women continued talking, lapsing into intermittent Greek as they filed out, and Tiel followed. Pulling her close to me when she passed, I said, "Where are you going?"
"Kitchen," she whispered. She leaned her head against my chest and her shoulders dropped. "They're going to keep speculating on whether my shoes are authentic and diamonds can be pink, and at least one of them is going to have something to say about you being a piece of something nice. They're also going to talk about me being a spoiled brat if I don't help, so…"
"My goal in life is to spoil you, so wear it well." I kissed her temple and inhaled her sweet scent. "You got this, Sunshine."
"Go find another baby to hold. There are at least four or five of them crawling around," she said, laughing. "It was precious. My ovaries exploded."
I dipped my head to catch her eyes. "Do I want your ovaries to explode?"
"Uh, yeah, you do," she said. "Much more of that and I'm going to be pregnant before we walk out of here."
"Now, Sam," one of Tiel's cousins—or maybe her sister? they reallydidlook alike—said. "What do you do?"
We were seated at a long, makeshift table, surrounded by two dozen of Tiel's family members. "I'm an architect," I said, accepting a plate loaded with lamb, vegetables, and rice from Tiel.
She offered a quick nod, and I knew she'd weeded out anything that would trigger my food allergies.
Thiswas what it meant to be spoiled. I fucking loved this girl.
"Really?" the sister-cousin asked. "Like, construction? No offense, but I know construction and you don't look like construction to me."
