“Oh, I don’t know,” Etta mused. “If we must have drama, I’d rather it be this.”
“Of course you would. You practically invite it into your office, last I heard.”
Adele peered out from Etta’s left side. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Oh. Them.”
Natasha gripped her wineglass, eyes boring into Eve’s fragile visage. Jamie smacked Seena’s shoulder and gestured to the cat fight about to break out. “Do something!”
Seena jumped up and slammed a hand onto Natasha’s shoulder. “Hey! Let’s go have a dance! We’ve got these pretty purple dresses on, and it would be the perfect opportunity to attract some bigshots…” Seena had only danced with her brother so far. Not exactly the image she wanted to project to the eligible bachelors in the room.
Natasha was more than happy to bail on the banquet table if it meant getting away from the woman bothering her. Before Jamie could automatically judge the young Warner woman, however, Eve grunted in sheer frustration and marched off in the other direction. Perhaps she went to take her negative energy out on the fist fight. (Was that still going on? Jamie thought she heard June yelling at someone now…)
“Amanda,” Etta said, flagging down her personal assistantas she walked by in a flirty green dress. “When you get the chance, can you find me the number of the magazine photographer’s boss? I need to know who I have to pay to keep the drama out of the press.”
Somehow, they managed to avoid much more drama while the wedding gradually wound down. It was half past six when Jamie noticed more and more guests coming by to bid them early adieus, whether because they needed to travel early or work emergencies called. These may not have been people Jamie readily recognized, but she extended her grateful candor to every one of them, and dreaded the moment Jenny came up behind her and said, “It’s almost six, lovebirds. We’re supposed to start clearing people out by seven, so you know what that means.”
Etta had a smile of relief when she said, “You mean I finally get some alone time with my bride? What a tragedy.”
Jamie, on the other hand, longed to let this dreamy affair continue.Don’t tell me my wedding is over already.Seemed as if it had blown by without any warning. Even so, she kept her bearings as she turned to her wife and said, “I suppose I should go change, then.”
“Change? Why change?”
“I brought a more practical outfit for this evening. Unless you want to take me back to the penthouse in this huge gown.”
Etta’s hand pushed across her knee. Somehow, she had found it beneath all that fabric. “There’s plenty of time to take it off later, my flower.” Her hand rubbed the spot where Jamie’s garter was. Like the damn pro she was, Etta managed to coax it down to her wife’s knee, all without breaking eye contact with Jamie.
Word spread. Both Jamie and Etta rose from the banquet table to rendezvous with Jenny. Etta’s limo pulled up in the driveway, bedecked in the usual “Just Married” flair.
Seena brought Jamie her bouquet. Purple and blue flowers looked back up at her, and the knowledge that this would be the last time she looked atthem before going away to her honeymoon was almost too hard to bear.
For so long, Jamie had dreamed of this day. Now she gazed upon the gathering crowd, fully aware that her name, in their eyes, was Mrs. Jamie Coleman. Jamie had gone from nobody girlfriend to first –Excuse me, only– wife of a billionaire so quickly that some of them had whiplash. It didn’t help that her parents, as proud as they now were, stood out like sore thumbs as they eagerly waved. The crowd arrived. Bets were called. Women giggled, and others swore they weren’t going to participate. While Jamie was seated on a stool and Luna removed her daughter’s garter, the newly married billionaire pulled five hundred-dollar bills from her wallet and fanned them to the tune of whistles and cheers in the background. Jamie took the garter from her mother and handed the thin blue thing to her wife.
Although it was customary to toss the bouquet first, it was clear that things would happen out of order. Etta already wound the garter around the wad of money and looked at the crowd with a cool look. “I don’t care what you bastards think,” she said. “You all know you want to be as lucky as me one day.”
Nobody refuted that. In fact, it riled up the crowd, each one jokingly climbing over the other in an effort to get the best spot for catching the garter.
Etta turned around, facing her wife. With a wink, she tossed the garter high above, completely missing the second fist fight that almost erupted.
“Ah, yes, everyone.” Jamie couldn’t bring herself to be surprised when she saw Ira Mathison come out on top, twirling the garter on one hand and pocketing the money with the other. “I believe this is a sign that we should all get piss-roaring drunk at the nearest bar. Er… where’s the nearest bar?”
What a fantastic segue to the bouquet toss! Jamie gazed at the women amassing on the other side and… well, she would be no Monique Warner that day.
I’ve thought long and hard about this. Four months ago, Monique decided that Jamie needed this bouquet more than any other. It was a sign that it was time for her and Etta to at least get engaged, not that anyone could have foreseen a wedding happening so quickly.
Unfortunately for Jamie, the only woman she could see paying it forward to was not present in the group. She should not have been surprised that Kathleen had high-tailed it out of there – especially after the stunt her partner pulled – and was back at the bar getting a shot of tequila, but it put a damper on Jamie’s plan, nonetheless.
Her backup plan? The one where she would shove the bouquet in Adele’s hands and hope for the best? That wasn’t going to work either, because the woman was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck it,” she mumbled, and tossed the damn bouquet into the hormonal crowd.
Shrieks echoed. Hands were in the air. Hair let loose, and more than one bracelet snapped off a wrist until the ground glittered in diamonds and other beautiful gems. Yet it was not a woman struggling to catch the bouquet who won. In fact, Natasha had only been standing there out of politeness. It was one of the nasty socialites who knocked the bouquet out of the air and into Natasha’s idle hands.
“Oh… shit…” she uttered, staring in disbelief at the colorful flowers in her hands. “Hey, Mathison, time to put the garter on that young lady there.”
Natasha dropped the bouquet. The room fell silent, with Ira looking between the woman at the bar and her best friend looming in the corner shadows. Eve liked that idea about as much as Kathleen did.
“Think we’re good over here!”
Natasha gave Jamie a look ofhow could youas the bride took her wife’s hand and was led away from the reception.
