I could not have been more wrong.
The next day, I wandered downstairs on a break from nursery decorating, there were at least two hundred new people scurrying about the house. There were cleaners, painters, decorators, florists, cooks, bakers, musicians…everyone you could imagine. A girl from the ice-sculpting crew actually handed me a stack of drawings to take to the main designer before realizing who I was and apologizing profusely. It was like a game of Chinese checkers. Multiple people on multiple teams were bumping into each other, all scrambling to get to the other side.
But perhaps the fiercest of these teams was Tatiana’s, and the crowds parted without a word as we cut through the middle and made a beeline for the studio. After doing what I swear was a coded knock, the heavy door swung open and we were shown inside. The lights had been doubl
ed and brightened, and a mini-platform had been constructed in the middle of the room—so that by the time I stepped into the center, I felt like some sort of test tube experiment under microscopic surveillance.
“Now.” Tatiana seemed more relaxed now that she’d gotten me into my dress. “How is the bride relaxing before her big day?”
I would have laughed if there weren’t a dozen pins pointed at my ribcage. “You’re kidding, right? This house is a circus. I can’t even hear myself think.”
“Yes, yes, that’s very good,” she muttered, tuning me out as she examined a seam. “It’s important to take a step back and breathe. It is your day, after all.”
I tried to follow her advice, but she immediately slapped my hand.
“Don’t breathe now, Rebecca—we’re at a critical stage.”
“Right.” I sighed but did my best to hold still. As much as she and I butted heads, this was actually my favorite part of the wedding prep so far. At least it was quiet, and I was under strict orders not to move. Considering the mayhem outside, it was a welcome relief.
“So what about your other dress?” she asked offhandedly. “I hope you followed my advice and went with the amethyst. It will look brilliant with your eyes.”
“What? It will look brilliant with my not-amethyst eyes?” I asked sarcastically. She poked me sharply with a pin and I straightened up. “But yes…I’m going with the purple.”
“Not-amethyst eyes…” she muttered. “Does that mean no color contacts? I thought Geima and her people finally had you convinced.”
I threw up my hands. “No—no color contacts. At no point was I even remotely convinced. It is my wedding after all. I’d like to look a little like, I don’t know…myself.”
“Hmm. That’s a shame.” She glanced up at my face and quickly corrected herself. “Not about looking like yourself—about the contacts. It would have brought out my own jewels.” She patted the gown fondly.
“Not that I’d know,” I said petulantly. But she nudged me, and I grinned.
In our first meeting, Tatiana had shown me a dozen samples of her work—each of which dazzled me beyond belief. All of which I wanted to wear to my own wedding. So when she slyly requested that I give her free rein and let her surprise me on the big day, I’d thought, sure, what’s the harm? Turns out, not knowing what you’re going to look like on the day of your wedding causes a little more undue stress to the nerves than is prudent.
“Come on,” I asked, already knowing the answer, “just a little peek…”
“Rules are rules,” she answered firmly, but she gave me a little wink. “That being said, I think you are going to be very pleased with the end result. It’s some of my best ever work.”
My heart leaped with butterflies, and I smiled in spite of the pressure. Although I could say with more certainty than ever that I was definitely not a “wedding” kind of girl, it was starting to actually dawn on me that in less than twenty-four hours, I was going to be marrying Marcus.
And that…? Yeah, that called for a little smile.
There was a distant crash followed by a chorus of screams, and the smile slid off my face.
This was getting ridiculous. They’d start to unionize before long. Already some of them were trying to press their luck and sneak into the forbidden second story to decorate and clean. It was up to me to stop them. Well, me and Amanda and Niles—the villa’s terrifying head of security. But still, the little devils were sneakier than you’d believe. Look away for two seconds, and bam—there were peonies nailed to your door.
And where was Marcus during this entire catastrophe, you might ask? Well, Marcus had been given carte blanche to leave the mansion whenever he so desired to tie up any and all loose ends with Takahari. Because apparently, all a man had to do to get married was throw on a tux and walk outside.
“You’ve got that ‘gender inequality’ look on your face again,” Tatiana noted. unsympathetically, speaking through the pins stuck between her teeth. “Try to look happier, like a bride.”
“It’s just ridiculous,” I muttered. “I’m growing a baby inside me—I’m busy too. Why am I the only one who’s getting hounded about place settings and table linens?”
She looked up at me seriously. “Let me tell you: I couldn’t care less. My job is the dress. The glorious…magnificent dress.” Her eyes glowed warmly for a second before flickering up my way. “Which you can take off now, by the way.”
“I’m finished?” I asked doubtfully.
“You’re done.” She helped me slide the fabric up and over my head. “Just don’t gain or lose twenty pounds between today and tomorrow, and we should be fine.”
I chuckled breathlessly and slipped back into my normal clothes. “I’ll try.” I headed outside but paused at the door. “Hey, Tatiana…thanks. No matter how it looks, I’m sure I’m going to love it!”