This afternoon Paisley called me a naughty man.
She has so many names for me. I have a few, too.
Whipped.
Fallen.
Fool.
I am a whipped fallen fool for Paisley Royce.
CHAPTER 39
Paisley
I wakeup to a text from Cecily, sent last night at midnight.
Boss. You sexy thing, you.
Checking the time on my phone, I decide it’s an acceptable time in the morning to send a text message.
Elucidate.
KleinTheWriter is fire.
I haven’t looked at yesterday’s content. I will as soon as I get a chance.
I don’t have to look to know you’re killingit though!
The wedding rehearsalis taking place on the lawn of Nautilus, at precisely the location where tomorrow’s wedding will be held. The hotel’s wedding coordinator, Raelynn, meets us in the lobby. She ushers us outside, where the green lawn overlooks the ocean.
White folding chairs are already set up, as is the square arch. Raelynn informs us the vines and flowers will be wound around the arch in the morning, in an effort to keep them from wilting overnight.
Raelynn claps her hands, ready to get the show on the road. Her eyes search the group, looking for the bride and groom, but coming up empty. “Where’s Shane and Sienna?”
Tag, eyes scanning his phone, holds up one finger. “Shane says they’ll be here in a minute. They had a problem in the parking lot.”
My father sighs audibly and sits down in one of the chairs in the front row.
My mother takes a seat on the opposite side. So much for the guests of the bride on one side and the groom’s on the other.
Shane appears a minute later, holding Sienna in his arms. He strides down the aisle, toward everybody waiting with questions in their eyes.
“I think she rolled her ankle getting out of the golf cart.”
Tag steps out of the group to look it over. “Slightly swollen. Can you put weight on it?”
Shane sets Sienna down gently. She winces as she attempts to set her right foot down. “I can if I have to, but it hurts.”
Tag nods. “Sit down, and put your foot on another chair.” He turns to Raelynn as Sienna follows his instructions. “Can you grab a bag of ice from the hotel?”
She hurries off to do as he’s asked. My eyes find Klein, sitting in the back row. He lifts his chin, acknowledging my look, silently asking what’s wrong with the tug of his eyebrows.
I walk down the aisle toward him. He has one leg folded over the other in a figure four, hands folded in his lap. “What’s going on?” he asks when I get closer.
“Sienna rolled her ankle. She’s resting it and the coordinator went for ice.”
“That’s unfortunate, but at least she’ll be fine by tomorrow.” Klein unhooks his leg and pats his lap. “Sit down.”
