At the end of the meeting, I got up to leave for my next meeting, but Jude caught my arm.
“Wait,” he asked quietly.
I gave him a curious look but did as he asked. We stood in silence until we were the only two left in the conference room, and finally, I asked, “What are we waiting for?”
Jude said, “Bryce, I don’t want this to come between us.”
My back stiffened. “What specifically are you referring to? How you illegally acquired information about my fiancée or how you sent it to my father without any warning?”
Jude’s jaw ticked. “Bryce, you have to know I was trying to protect you.”
“Who’s protecting Jada?” I asked, floored. “She’s flirting with the poverty line, caring for her grandma, and now alone with a baby because some lowlife decided it would be easier to offer her an abortion than actual support.”
Jude flinched.
“Didn’t know about that, did you?” I muttered. How could he be the smartest man I knew and the dumbest at the same time?
He looked at me. “My duty isn’t to her. It’s toyou.”
“I can’t make distinctions like that,” I argued. “Not now that I know, not now that I love her.”
“Just because you love her doesn’t mean you need to marry her,” Jude said sadly, and it made me wonder what the story was. I may have asked if I wasn’t growing more frustrated by the second.
“Jude, you’re the reason this is coming between us.” I gestured toward the hallway off the conference room. “Everyone else is congratulating me, thanking me for helping with this problem Simon threw our way. Why aren’t you?”
He stayed silent for a moment. “I love those guys, but you’re my brother, Bryce. Don’t you get that? Just sitting back and watching you make the biggest mistake of your life isn’t love.”
I pressed my lips together. “Maybe not. But this isn’t either.” I brushed past him and left the conference room, wondering if our friendship would ever survive my marriage.
59.Jada
Even though Iwasn’t getting ready for my wedding, I had never felt more glamorous. Bryce’s stylist had helped me pick out a gorgeous floor-length black gown with an empire waist, an open back, and thin straps that crossed over my bare skin. The satin, silky material was so elegant I barely felt safe wearing it.
But Glamma was having the time of her life accessorizing the gown, giving feedback on my makeup, and even stuffing my purse with any item I could possibly need in case of a wardrobe malfunction.
“Child, if you’re showing that much skin, you need to be prepared so you don’t end up totally naked.”
But when I thought there was no more primping to possibly be done, Glamma said, “Just one more thing.”
I shook my head to myself as she reached into the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled out an old, blue velvet box. “This will look perfect in your hair.”
To be fair, it was the one part of me that wasn’t entirely bejeweled. “What is it?” I asked. This didn’t look like a part of her regular collection, which she kept in a standing jewelry case.
She flipped it open, the box making a solid sound as the back parts stopped against each other. “This is the comb your mother wore on her wedding day. I was planning on giving it to you next week, but...” Her eyes misted as she shook her head. “You look so much like her tonight.”
She held the box out so I could examine it. Gold teeth gleamed from under a crusting of sapphire and diamond jewels, and I gasped at the sight of it. “It matches my ring,” I whispered, holding my hand out to compare the two.
Glamma nodded. “When Bryce and I spoke about your ring, I told him it was fate.”
Now my eyes were misting over. Glamma had her hand in all of this. “You did that for me?”
Her lips tugged into a frown. “Of course I did, sugar.” She pulled the comb out of the box. “Now twist your head so I can place it, before the limo gets here. We don’t want to keep him waiting.”
The silk of her robe rustled as she lifted her arms and wedged the comb into place against my updo. “Gorgeous,” she breathed.
I turned my head to look in the mirror and nearly gasped. I did look like my mother on her wedding day, and it comforted me that pieces of her lived on.
“One day, you’ll give it to your baby girl,” Grandma half-asked, half-ordered.
