Escorting the Billionaire - Part 2
“You didn’t make me upset,” I said. It came out like a stammer. My heart was pounding in my chest.
“Dre doesn’t think it’s possible that he has feelings for her—she doesn’t believe in fairy tales. She’s a realist,” Jenny said, making it sound as if I were some sort of brain surgeon.
“Of course it’s possible,” Cole said, but now he had eyes only for her.
“Oh, Coley,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. They started kissing again.
I moved a little further down the pew. It was getting really hot now.
On one hand, I wanted to believe that Cole knew what he was talking about. That James was in love me—because that would be my wish come true.
On the other hand, I hoped he was wrong, and that James wasn’t in love with me—because that wouldn’t be the best thing for James. I wasn’t the best thing for James.
The thing was, I still didn’t even know what he wanted.
The enormous church was packed, the pews filled with beautifully dressed people. The music started and the Prestons led the wedding processional. Mr. Preston looked dapper in his suit; Mrs. Preston looked like a glittering, illicitly smoothed matriarch from hell in her long, silver-beaded gown, secured at the waist with an enormous diamond broach.
The nine bridesmaids were next—first Evie’s cousins, Meghan, Michelle, and Sarah, their biceps popping as they clutched their bouquets. The bridesmaids’ dresses were simple—black, strapless and stunning. Then Evie came down the aisle with her father. She looked so beautiful I almost cried. She smiled at me as she swept past, and I saw real joy on her face. I hoped that Celia was wrong about them, that this happy phase wasn’t going to pass into a boring one and then into a dissatisfied one. Evie did love Todd. Maybe she loved his money more than she loved him, but I was positive that there was at least some real affection between them. I hoped it was enough to make them happy, and enough to last. I found myself crossing my fingers on my lap, my palms sweating, rooting for them.
Evie reached Todd, and they clasped their hands together, joy apparent on his face. My heart soared as I saw that even James was smiling at them.
But then I heard something behind me, and the soar turned to a plummet. A muttering, when we should all be silent. I turned and saw a familiar figure charging down the aisle—stringy bleached hair and a barrel chest shoved into a cheap black spaghetti-strapped sundress. The kind with the elastic visible on the outside. I cringed, wishing I could unsee my mother crashing Todd and Evie’s society wedding.
“Jenny,” I turned around and whispered. “I have to go. It’s an emergency. Tell James I’ll meet him at the reception.”
“What?” she asked me louder than she should. People turned to stare at us.
“It’s my mother,” I hiss-whispered.
“Oh f**k, Dre. Go. I’ll cover for you.”
I ran down the aisle in a flash and a panic.
* * *
“Hello, Mrs. Reynolds,” I whispered to her, grabbing her from the pew she was trying to slide down, away from me. “Got ya.” I grabbed her arm, hard, and dragged her with me.
“That hurts,” she said, her voice loud.
I dug my nails into the puffy flesh of her arm. “Shut the f**k up, right now, or you get nothing. And I’m gonna make this hurt a lot worse.” I dug my nails in further. Wedding guests were watching us, surprised and shocked, but I didn’t dare stop.
I hustled her out into the bright sunlight and dragged her to the side of the church; I couldn’t risk standing out front. This was already worse than I could probably recover from. I turned to her. “Why are you here?” I was surprised to find myself on the verge of tears; I should have been all cried out where my mother was concerned.
She raised her hands at me in exasperation. “I told you yesterday: I need money. These people have it, Audrey. They have more than they need.”
“But it’s theirs,” I wailed. “Just because they have it doesn’t mean they have to spread it around. I’m sure they give to a lot of charities. But their money has nothing to do with you.”
“I’m not getting their charity.” She looked at me stubbornly.
“That’s because you don’t deserve it,” I said. “You don’t need charity, Ma. You maybe need a job. Or a hobby.”
She sneered at me. “Look at you in that dress. Pretending to be something you’re not. Who do you think you are?”
I shrugged at her, defeated. “I’m no one, Ma. I just don’t think what you’re doing is right. James already gave you twenty thousand dollars. He paid for Tommy to stay at the center for I don’t even know how long. He’s a good guy. You trying to punish him for hiring me isn’t fair.”