Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
My third thought… well, actually, I don’t have a third thought. Because when I turn and see her, my brain empties, my body ignites.
Anna has worn tiny minidresses, slinky silk gowns, and low-cut evening dresses that sent my mind racing down filthy tracks. But this dress isn’t anything like that. While other women will likely be wearing muted lace, beachy neutrals, conservative chiffon, Anna’s dress is a statement. The one-shouldered silk gown is softly pleated, with bright teal at the top that transitions into blue, then purple, then into a flowing skirt of pink and orange, ending at her feet with a brilliant, flaming crimson.
Go ahead and look, it says. Stare.
Speechless, I approach, cupping her shoulders and sending my hands down her long, soft arms. I bend, kissing her bare shoulder. When I close my eyes, I feel momentarily dizzy. It’s too soon to feel what I’m feeling, but I let it wash through me anyway, because it solidifies my resolve to get this precious woman out of here as soon as humanly possible.
* * *
I KNOW HOW MUCH money my family has. In abstract terms, at least, I know that it is in the billions. Alex got a Lamborghini Gallardo for his eighteenth birthday; Charlie got a Friesian horse from the tooth fairy. Hell, she got two whole houses as wedding gifts. And without really batting an eye, I agreed to pay Anna a hundred thousand dollars to tell a lie.
I know the absurdity; I can see it, even if sometimes only in theory.
But the scale of this wedding is unbelievable even to me. Along the path to the black sand cove, every tree drips with garlands of pearls, crystals, and tiny twinkling lights. Delicate glass chandeliers tinkle from the branches of mangrove trees that sway along to the ocean’s gentle rhythm. Swags of bamboo and layers of lush greenery drape every chair; columns are topped with towering vases of white king protea, cream roses, and orchids, more strands of sparkling crystal spilling from their lips.
And there is an aisle, not just a demarcation with petals or branches: a stretch of pure white marble has been meticulously set in the black sand. It’s lined in flickering candles and ends with three wide stairs, which lead to a raised circular stage that will function as the altar overlooking the waves crashing against the shores of the cove. Guests won’t be sitting in folding chairs during the ceremony; there are rows of neatly aligned vintage armchairs with fluted wood frames and tufted linen upholstery. A selection of antique gilded mirrors are propped in the sand, reflecting the entire, glittering scene back to us.
Not wanting to mingle, we’d waited as long as we could before arriving, and now, from inside the pavilion, Jake furiously waves me over. I squeeze Anna’s hand, checking her face before I have to leave her to join the groomsmen.
“You good?” I ask.
She lifts her chin and nods but I see my own disbelief echoed in her eyes. It’s so much. Weddings are supposed to be celebratory and grandiose, but this is bordering on grotesque.
I wait until she’s comfortably seated in the front row beside Blaire before walking away.
The minute she’s out of my sight, I enter a bit of a trance, wanting to get this all over with. Yes, it’s beautiful; in fact, odds are good this is one of the most beautiful weddings ever. But after this morning’s drama, it’s hard to completely enjoy it as I walk down the aisle with one of the Leighs on my arm. Of course, there are moments of perfection that follow. Like when the live orchestra dips into motion, and Linc, Nix, and GW walk in tiny suits down the aisle. Or the delighted coos of the gathered guests when GW veers off the path, determined to sit on Anna’s lap. Or Reagan, following with a basket of petals, looking beautiful and so grown-up. (She’d been nervous about walking alone, so Anna drew her a portrait, of Reagan glowing and confident with her chin in the air. She had stared at Anna with hero worship in her eyes. I see the sketch at the bottom of the basket when she reaches the altar.)
And of course, the appearance of Charlie in her wedding dress does something to me, something choking and instinctive, the most bittersweet moment of my life so far. At her side, Dad looks smug and dickish, but my baby sister is a vision, more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. As Charlie nears, though, my eyes turn to Anna in the front row next to Blaire. The two women clutch hands as they watch Charlie walk down the aisle toward Kellan. The pink of Anna’s hair has faded from so much time in the ocean, leaving it the same blush as the blossoms strewn down the aisle.