Katrina gasps. I jump up from my seat and turn around, surprised to see him standing in the atelier’s doorway with a broad smile on his face.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, though I’m genuinely relieved to see him.
His biker boots thud the floor with every step he takes to reach me, and his cologne travels across the room to dazzle me before he snakes an arm around my waist.
“Hi, Toby,” Katrina mutters.
He ignores her and kisses me; a tender look settles in his eyes. “Hi, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing mine.
“What a nice surprise,” I manage.
“Jamie told me where to find you.” He pauses and gives Katrina a dull glance. “You look like my mom’s old ironing board, but sparkly.”
“And you are?” Francine interjects with an insulted scowl.
Toby laughs lightly and raises his arms in surrender. “The dress is gorgeous. It just needs a better model. This one looks like it’s about to die of starvation.”
“I beg your pardon?” Katrina croaks, red-faced from the insult.
Toby grabs my ass for good measure, beaming like the sun. “It’s cool, Katrina. Terrence likes his women starved. I like mine curvy with plenty to hold and spoil.” He glances down at me. “Are you done here?”
“I think I am, yes.” I was already working on an exit strategy, but I was torn between giving Katrina another piece of my mind and pretending to answer a nonexistent, incoming phone call.
“Good. I booked us a table at Le Taittinger,” he says, “for brunch. You mentioned you’ve always wanted to go there.”
“And you remembered. I’m impressed.”
“I remember everything you tellme, babe.”
We bid Francine and Katrina a brief farewell, then head out. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the bitter look on Katrina’s face as she watches us leave. I recognize it.
Because I know the kind of man she’s about to marry.
I’mthe lucky one.
10
WILLOW
“Inow pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest declares. “You may kiss the bride.”
The wedding ceremony is finally over.
The forty guests present all clap and cheer as Terrence kisses Katrina. Sheila’s eyes are filled with tears—though I’m not sure if those are tears of joy or grief. She just handed her precious boy off to another woman, and Sheila’s not the quitting type. She’s clapping, though, and wishing them the best.
“She’s going to be miserable,” Cole mutters.
He and his brothers stand farther at the back, close to Jamie and me, while William Morgan makes his way over to congratulate Terrence and Katrina, along with other members of their extended family.
“Who? Katrina?” I reply. “I know.”
“Sheila,” Cole says and chuckles dryly. “If I were Katrina, I’dkeep a hand over my drink at all times when Mommy Dearest is around.”
I can’t help but laugh.
Outside, a blanket of pure white covers the ground, the old pine trees of the neighboring forest donning their best winter garb. The sky is a dull, cold grey. It resembles the look on Sheila’s face as she glances our way.
Once the congratulatory part of the wedding is over, Sheila and William urge everyone to head to the ballroom.
