“So pretty,” Bambi croons maliciously before her fake smile gets wider, and she looks like a version of Maleficent—evil and overtly schemey.
She takes a step forward, and Kade edges in front of me, spurred on by a low, unintelligible growl from Roshka.
Refusing to be intimidated by her and her tribe, I sidestep around Kade and Roshka, moving closer to them. “You look lovely.”
Instead of answering me, she turns toward her friends, speaking in Russian. When she’s done, her gaze travels slowly from the top of my head, all the way down to my feet. And her bitchy friends do the same.
“You look so beautiful for a bride.” She grins.
Clearly, it’s an insult, given they start giggling again.
I wish I cared. Bambi might be Queen Bee in the life she’s built for herself, but in the real world, her immaturity would be her downfall. The thought of that takes the sting of her being a bitch away, although if I’m honest, how she acts and speaks to me is like a papercut— notoriously annoying but already forgotten.
Putting my back to them and walking over to the station no one used, I take a seat and wait for the time I assume someone will come and get me. In the reflection of the mirror, I can see the mess they’ve made of the room as they’ve spent hours getting ready together. Every conceivable product spills over their stations, so opposite to my beauty regime, it isn’t funny.
I watch the photographer cautiously approach. For a moment, I think I’m causing her apprehension, but then I see her keep checking over her shoulder, flinching slightly. Obviously, Bambi and her friends have been consistent in their cattiness.
When she comes near, I stand. She doesn’t even try to speak to me, but the smile is one of those that says,sorry I can’t speak English, but we will manage. She holds up her camera with one hand and pulls a pose, pointing at herself with the other.
“Yes, of course.”
And then she leads me over to the corner of the room, where the sunlight is dappled and the breeze is fluttering white sheer curtains. Guiding me into the pose and position she wants, she takes all of three photos before Bambi rushes into the frame.
“Enough. Now us.”
The photographer doesn’t argue, but neither do I.
“Of course,” I say to Bambi, stepping out of where I was and waving her in.
I refuse to call her out on her shit; I truly don’t see the point. If she can’t see she’s making a fool out of herself, it’s not like she’s going to listen to me spelling it out.
Sitting back down at my station, I spend the entire time they’re doing their photo session dreaming about what I’d be doing if I wasn’t here. And it’s got nothing to do with Bambi or Sergey, and everything to do with a huge bed on a tropical island, with just Kade, Santiago, and Aleksei to keep me entertained while we wait for the arrival of my sister, Marco, the dogs, and Deena.
My beautiful daydream gets interrupted when a matron-like woman appears and speaks to Bambi first, and then in broken English to me, letting me know it’s time.
Without any pomp or ceremony, a bouquet of flowers gets dropped into my hands, and then I watch as she fluffs around with Bambi. Of course, Bambi has a mini meltdown over the flowers, and the girls have to console her faux tears with cuddles that don’t mess up their makeup.
Her crying gets louder instead of quieter, and her best bestie—I seriously can’t remember her name—appears in front of me with Bambi’s flowers in one hand and expectation on her face.
“Some manners wouldn’t go astray, sunshine,” I insist when she makes a grab for my bouquet.
“We are your wedding party… um, bridesmaids, yes. Please, Bambi should be the one to hold those ones. Give them.”
I hand them over without fuss, completely distracted by the waves of distaste and repulsion coming from my security detail. Even Roshka’s not a fan of what’s going on, and he walks towards the door, making sure I’m following.
“You.” The wedding organizer is back on track, her attention now on Santiago and Kade. “Go inside.”
“How do you say, ‘fuck off’ in Russian?” Santiago asks. He hides the message under his impeccable manners and approachable expression.
I have to bite my lip to stop from bursting into laughter. Once it’s under control, I turn to face them both. “I’ll be okay. I’d feel better if you were there when I arrive, anyway. Somewhere close but not too close. Everyone is on edge.”
“I don’t like this,” Kade says softly as he steps past me into the corridor.
He waits for Santiago, but Santiago is leaning down to whisper something in the wedding planner's ear. She pales, and her eyes go wide as saucers, so I guess he’s found a way around the language barrier. As she races off, he looks back at me and shrugs innocently when I wait for an explanation.
“I’m happy to threaten every fucking person we meet if needs be, bebe.” Though thebebeis like a soft exhale.
He leaves me then and joins Kade, and I tug on Roshka’s ear until he swings his giant head my way. Seriously, the attitude I read in his eyes is the same as what I read in Kade’s and Santiago’s. He gives me the same attitude they do when I wave him out of the room.
