“That’s the spirit!” the officiant said.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two in holy matrimony…”
Thank goodness it was fake matrimony. If I were really marrying Chris, I wouldn’t survive.
8
Chris
“You may kiss the bride!” The officiant beamed.
I leaned in toward Grace.
“If you touch me,” she warned, “I’m going to shank you with my brooch.”
“Kinky,” I purred, just to get a rise out of her.
She crossed her arms and scowled as we walked down the aisle to the cheers of the crowd, which I suspected were all hired extras. I was going to make a joke about telling her to smile, but Grace’s glare was murderous over her glasses.
“Please continue this way to the reception,” a tall woman wearing all black and sporting a severe bun repeated as we streamed through a lobby to another room with a grand high ceiling and large windows that overlooked the Manhattan skyline.
“Elsie, is there alcohol?” Grace asked. I supposed they must know each other.
“Special craft cocktails!” she promised.
“She better have made watermelon mojitos,” Grace muttered under her breath.
“No girly drinks,” I drawled. “Your friend Elsie better have scotch, the good kind.”
“I’m surprised you’re not drunk off the fumes coming off of your clothes. You couldn’t have bothered to shower before our wedding?” she snapped as we headed to the open bar, fielding congratulations from the reception-goers.
“I lost track of time in the club—there was the super-hot brunette there. Actually, come to think of it, she reminded me of you.”
Grace huffed as she accepted a tall pink cocktail garnished with mint from the bartender.
“I stumbled out, and it was like ten in the morning. You’re lucky I’m even here at all.”
She shook her head as I ordered a scotch.
The reality was that Eric, Josh, and my father had had me spooked. I didn’t want a repeat of Addison, and I definitely didn’t want to end up in a situation like my father had with my mother.
After stumbling out of the club, I had spent the morning drinking and pacing in my apartment while poring over the contract instead of showering, sleeping, or sobering up.
I had been planning on just fleeing the country and letting the chips fall where they may, but the contract had been pretty explicit about bank-account-ruining lawsuits.
I had been sloshed by the time I stumbled up to the altar, sure that I was going to be saddled with some gold digger. But then I had turned and seen Grace and had felt nothing but sweet relief. All things considered, it wasn’t a bad deal—she had passed my test after all.
Maybe she’ll even fall in love with you…
No. No love. This was business, or rather, debt repayment.
I looked around, suddenly missing her presence. Grace was en route to a corner of the room. Drink in hand, I loped to catch up with her.
“Go away,” she said as I leaned against the wall next to her. She had a drink in one hand and a plate of party snacks in another and was nibbling them off the side of the plate.
“I could feed you those.”
“Do not touch my food,” she warned.
