She wipes her eyes. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know.” She extends two of her fingers and closes Rouge’s eyelids, sniffling. She then looks around. “Where’s Chet?”
I look over my shoulder. “Shit. He’s gone.”
He must have disappeared into the night, the ghost of his grinning mug still lingering over us.
And already I know I’ll never see him again.
EPILOGUE
BIANCA
“Maddox Hathaway, do you take Alissa Maravilla as your lawfully wedded wife?”
We’re in the Wrigley Mansion, which has been outfitted with streamers in cobalt blue, mint green, and light pink. A wedding arch laced with white roses stands at the forefront of the room, the Chicago skyline standing steadfastly through a wide window, framing the three people standing at the altar beautifully. In the middle is a minister—Father Liam—wearing a sharp dark Armani suit no doubt chosen by the groom himself.
At his right, dressed in a sleek three-piece number with a red velvet bow tie, stands Maddox Hathaway, fully recovered after being brought to the brink of death in the Caterpillar Hotel. After a year of physical therapy and a high-protein diet, he’s recovered all the muscles in his chest and biceps that atrophied, and it’s clear he chose the cut of his jacket to highlight them.
And to the minister’s left stands the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Alissa Maravilla, shrouded in a lacy veil that resembles the half-melted snow covering half the Chicago sidewalks. Her dress is sleek and understated, the exact opposite of what my own sister would have worn had she ever consented to marry. Her hair is styled in an elegant updo with an intricate bun in the back, and she’s holding a bouquet of white roses that match the ones in the arch.
“I do,” Maddox replies with a devilish smile.
The minister turns to Alissa. “And do you, Alissa Maravilla, take Maddox Hathaway as your lawfully wedded husband?”
She breathes in, seemingly taking in the aroma of her bouquet and the contentedness in her life as she does so. “I most certainly do.”
“Then by the power invested in me by the state of Illinois, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Father Liam grins. “You may kiss the bride.”
Mr. and Mrs. Hathaway embrace and lock lips, and I gaze across the room at Harrison. He’s in a suit matching Maddox’s, standing right at his side as his best man. Dinah is Alissa’s maid of honor, but I’m in her wedding party along with a few of her friends from Northwestern. It didn’t really seem fair, since they’ve all known her for years, but she did say playing a part in saving her life was enough to earn a spot in her party for life.
Maddox has been flying back and forth from New Haven. He’s attending school at Yale part time to earn his degree in political science to unlock the funds left behind by his father. He has no desire to do anything with the degree once it’s conferred, but he’s also been taking some business classes. He plans to expand the haberdashery into a second location in the heart of the Loop soon.
Alissa has manned the haberdashery when Maddox is out of town with the help of Vanya. It took a lot of coaxing to make Maddox loosen the reins of his shop, but a year of being with Alissa has thawed his rigidity. They needed to bring Vanya on after Alissa got a very exciting call from the Chicago Symphony—she emailed them as soon as she could explaining why she was a no-show to her audition. They were very understanding but had already filled the position by the time she got in contact with them. Alissa got a great consolation prize, though—she’s the CSO’s first call whenever they need a substitute, or if they’re programming a larger work that requires extra flautists. She’s already performed Mahler’s third and Strauss’s Alpine Symphony with them this season. Harrison and I have attended every time she’s performed, and she’s been absolutely glowing when we meet her in the lobby. It’s clear this is the path she was meant to walk, and she wouldn’t have ever returned to music had she not met Maddox. When she’s not working with the orchestra, she’s been taking gigs and working with a smaller local chamber ensemble. Another position will open up at the CSO or some other major orchestra eventually, and she’ll get a great letter of recommendation from the conductor when it does. She splits her time between her music and helping with Maddox’s shop, and she told me she’s never been happier.
Of course, between the haberdashery and performing, she had to leave her job at the hospital. That was a blow to both Dinah and Harrison, but they still see each other on the weekends. The five of us and Vanya are often having dinner at each other’s places. And she visits the hospital from time to time to play music for the patients, so St. Charles won’t see the last of her anytime soon.
Maddox and Alissa’s wedding reception is being held in the same place as their ceremony, and as soon as we all walk back down the aisle, the guests move to the tables in the rear of the room. At Harrison’s suggestion, they had the reception catered by Brassica Rex, complete with chilled oysters aplenty and a magnificent seafood tower. Balsamic glazed salmon and blackened sea bass will be served as the dinner. Several varieties of hot and iced tea—emphasis on Earl Grey—are available, as well as specialty crafted cocktails for the bride and the groom. Alissa’s is a dirty rosewater martini, and Maddox’s is an elderflower-infused gin and tonic, the drinks they shared their first night at Aces.
Harrison looks so handsome as the best man. He’s dressed in the same style suit as Maddox, but with a red necktie instead of a bowtie. He still works at the hospital with Dinah and recently led a massive effort to make sure all the organs that St. Charles patients receive are from legitimate, consenting donors. I’ve noticed him fidgeting with a small object in his pants pocket quite a bit throughout the day, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to propose to me at the wedding reception. We already live together—I gave up my apartment in the Loop and moved into his house in Oak Park a few months after the events at Rouge’s place—so it won’t be a big change, but I can’t wait to be Mrs. Bianca O’Rourke. I’ll be the last person to bear the Montrose name, and I’ll be happy to be rid of it.
Speaking of me, I’m in charge of Aces Underground now. I still sing there every night, but I have a rotating repertoire that keeps things fresh, including lots of my favorites from my musical theater days. I’ve kept all of Rouge’s theming—though I allow the servers to use temporary tattoos on their shoulders and give them the option to wear less revealing uniforms if that’s their preference—but all club employees receive a living wage and are not required to offer themselves as sexual playthings to the patrons. Everyone is allowed to speak now, too. The servers who’ve come from overseas have drastically improved their English since they’re practicing it constantly while on the job. They can work as long as they want, but most of them have made it clear they’ll move on with their lives after they earn enough money to start a stable life. I also just got an exciting email from a regional theater company called the Windy City Players—I’ve been cast as Johanna in their production of Sweeney Todd. Rehearsals start soon, so I’ll be auditioning substitute singers who can cover for me while I’m unavailable.
Some of the club patrons didn’t like these changes, and we lost a lot of the old guard in the first few months. They demanded the club remain the same, and I informed them they were free to leave. But for every patron we’ve lost, we’ve gained two or three. We’ve loosened the requirements for membership and are bringing in more money than my sister could have ever dreamed of. Everyone who works at Aces is much happier, and the environment is much improved.
The Jade Sanctum, Second Star, MINOS, and the Noir Parlor have all been sold back to their original owners—Aus Waverly, Scythe, Zebulon Minos, and Lucille Vivienne respectively.
I’m plucking a few shrimp off the seafood tower when Harrison takes my hand. “Do you have a moment?”
I give him a smile, knowing what’s coming. “Of course.”
He holds my hand and guides me out to a private courtyard behind the ballroom. A light dusting of snow covers everything, and I can’t help but think about the time we made love in the courtyard behind Brassica Rex at the beginning of our relationship.
We can’t do that right now. We’re expected at the reception.
But Harrison leads me to the center of the courtyard and places his hands on my exposed shoulders. “Bianca, to say our relationship got off to a rocky start would be the understatement of the century.”
I grin. “Agreed.”
He grabs both my hands. “But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I would go through all that bullshit a second time—all of it—if it meant meeting you.”
