“Love,” Hamish warned in his scrummy burr.
She gazed up at him. “I said I’d do my best.”
“Do that and do better,” he replied.
She turned her head and did such a brilliant rolled side-eye, I wished I had video of it.
Since I missed my chance, I sipped champagne instead.
“I’m so glad they have a beautiful day,” Chassie enthused.
With that, we settled into chitchat, and I was looking forward to when we got to sit down. My heels were already killing me.
When the music changed, and the staff started to guide people to the seating area, Prue and I looped arms together, and I did my best to avoid her fascinator/hat, which was wire covered in gray material wound around and around in a spiral that had a cluster of forget-me-nots in the middle.
“Is that hat François?” I asked.
She beamed up at me and cried, “He made it especially for me! Can you believe?”
I’d been to his shop.
I’d seen how he’d fawned all over her.
I totally believed.
“You rock it, sister.”
“It’s not too much?”
It was big, but people could see through the spirals, and she was short.
“It’s perfect,” I decreed as we got to our row and slid in.
We sat.
We waited.
Other people sat.
The parents were escorted in.
The groomsmen came out.
Once Battle got to where he’d be standing (he wasn’t the best man, he was one over), he looked for me.
When he caught my eyes, I threw him a kiss.
He smiled his sexy smile.
The bridesmaids came down the aisle.
The flower girl strewed her petals.
The music changed.
We stood.
Courtney walked down the aisle with her dad.
