The Ex (The Boss 4)

“The quartet will be playing, dah da dah,” Shelby coached me at the back of the room. We’d alread

y run through the steps of the wedding on paper, but she would still guide us through it three times tonight. She motioned to Holli. “Okay, I need bridesmaid behind the bride…”

“They should do this at every wedding, so the bridesmaids don’t look like dipshits,” Holli whispered over my shoulder. She stood behind me, miming holding my train.

“Don’t hold it up that high,” I said with a nervous laugh.

“I’ll put it over the back of your head if you don’t shut up,” she warned.

I took a deep breath. This was so weird. I was going to practice walking down the aisle to Neil? It seemed like it was cheating if I already knew what it was going to be like.

“Once the entrance music starts up, then we’ll open these curtains—” Shelby snapped her fingers to the two hotel-assigned attendants, who pulled cords to smoothly lift and part the pale gold brocade curtain. Beyond, the space was still in a bit of chaos; I wouldn’t see the flower arrangements Neil had dreamed up until I was walking down the aisle. I think he liked the idea of surprising me. I knew orchids were involved; Shelby had told me that it was going to be “a hell of a job” getting the fragile blossoms into place without them dying, but that it wasn’t anything the Plaza couldn’t handle.

The lighting was set exactly as we had planned, though; rich and warm gold tones cascaded from the fluted art deco lights that lined either side of the colonnade. I’d heavily argued for the lighting scheme because it was going to go amazingly well with my dress. Chandeliers hung low on either side of the golden marble aisle—I was so glad I remembered to bring my day-of shoes to practice in so I wouldn’t bust my ass during the actual ceremony—and were draped in gold filigree ornaments and twinkling, smoky crystals. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine them with their cream-colored votives lit.

“Now, you’re going to take your time walking down,” Shelby said, following along behind us. “The runner will be laid out, so it won’t be as slippery, but we don’t want any accidents.”

I’d been concentrating so hard on my feet I hadn’t taken the time to look at Neil standing in the front. His lips were clamped together as he tried not to laugh at me. I’m sure I looked like a fool, taking measured steps in my towering heels and invisible dress. Maybe there was some goddess of grace I could light a candle to or something.

“You look so nervous!” he called, and Holli snorted behind me.

“Yeah, you kind of look like you’re on the way to the gallows.” She laughed.

Since we weren’t in a church, I felt comfortable giving Neil the finger. “I’m trying not to fall down!”

“Maybe you should have picked flats,” Mom suggested, her brash voice echoing in the huge space.

“Since the wedding is tomorrow, that’s kind of unhelpful.” Whatever. I could totally walk in these. “But maybe we need to remember to bring flats for the reception.”

I had four different outfits for the reception. Which may have seemed like overkill to my mom and Neil and basically everyone, but it was necessary. Dare I say, practical. I had my wedding gown for the ceremony, a similar gown sans train and giant skirt for dinner and dancing, a cocktail dress for when the real dancing kicked off, and then something pretty, but comfortable enough to travel in for when we raced off to our honeymoon.

“Nonsense.” Neil laughed. “You look beautiful.”

“Wait until you see me tomorrow,” I promised him with a saucy flip of my hair.

Once I made it down the aisle, the minister ran us through his part of the ceremony. It was pretty basic; he would say some stuff, we would recite the vows we’d written to each other, we’d do the “I do”, and then, we’d be pronounced.

“It doesn’t seem like this is going to be a terribly long affair,” Neil said, casting his eyes around the room. “Perhaps we overdid it on the decor.”

“It’s your wedding. It could be seven seconds long, and it wouldn’t be overkill,” Shelby said. Though, since it was her salary we were talking about, she may have had an interest in keeping us grandiose.

“And we need it to look good for the society pages,” I reminded him. “I own a fashion magazine, for god’s sake. I can’t have a drab wedding, or it’ll be bad for business.”

“Which is exactly why you need four dresses,” Holli added in my defense.

I nodded. “Right. See, Holli gets it.”

“Well, I’m just glad the two of you won’t be living in sin anymore,” my grandma piped up from her seat beside my mother. “Even though you’re being married by a Protestant heretic—no offense, reverend—the lord has to let you in to heaven if the marriage is legal.”

Neil’s eyebrows shot up.

“It’s a thing,” I assured him. Then, to the minister, I mouthed, “Sorry.”

He didn’t look as understanding.

Unlike Emma’s rehearsal, ours went off without a hitch—unless my grandmother practically building a bonfire to burn our non-denominational officiant at the stake counted as a hitch. I decided it was my lack of bridesmaids. I’d picked Holli, and only Holli, because I hadn’t wanted to make Emma get fitted for a dress while she’d been pregnant, and I hadn’t had that many friends besides Holli to begin with. Holli was my very best friend; if anyone were going to make the cut, it would have been her.

We ran through the ceremony twice, and I started to feel strangely calm about it. I could totally do this. I could get married.