Billionaires Runaway Bride
“Rachel, it’s not a big deal.”
She held up a finger. “This is my wedding day. We’re already off-sides; I’m not going to let you embarrass me because you have no friends.”
I blinked a few times and the scowl on her face slowly faded as she typed into her phone. Sure, Sienna had been my best friend, but I had other friends. On any other day, I might have asked Tony, but he always sided with Sienna. I briefly wondered if I should have pushed harder for a courthouse wedding. I’d sure be happy when the stress of this wedding was done.
“It’s all set,” Rachel said and brought her phone with her in the closet. She closed the doors behind her, signaling the end of that conversation.
I had just finished my cereal and coffee when Rachel came out of the bedroom dressed in a white terry cloth outfit. The back of the jacket had the word BRIDE written in sparkling jewels.
“I’ll expect you there by eleven fifteen, at the latest,” she said. Then she was off.
I’d become used to her abrupt goodbyes as of late. And with my mind going crazy all morning, her absence was welcomed. I needed some time to myself for a little while.
I stood and put my dishes away, then went back into the bedroom and out to the balcony. I had a few hours to kill before heading over to the venue. While I had the urge to go surfing again, I knew if I wiped out, I might miss the wedding completely. Then Rachel would have a real reason for being pissed at me.
I sat down on the lounge and propped my feet up on the railing, looking out over the other houses and into the distant ocean.
My mind started to wander back to Sienna. I’d never known her to maliciously want to hurt someone. And if I had any thought of her manipulating me into not getting married, I found it hard to hold onto that as an excuse for what she said to me. Especially about Rachel cheating. With Sienna’s feelings for me aside, I realized I never confronted Rachel about the accusation. And she’d been quick to replace Sienna this morning. Had something happened on her vacation? Was it true that she wasn’t a virgin?
I rubbed my hands through my hair then down my face. I didn’t like being so conflicted about this. But if I was going to go through with this wedding, then I needed to be one-hundred-percent sure I was marrying someone who wanted me for me and not just my money. I knew Rachel loved her lifestyle, but if she wasn’t in it for the long haul, then what the hell was I doing with her?
I stood up from the lounge and gripped the railing. “Damn you, Sienna,” I growled. I hated that she put these thoughts in my head.
There was only one thing left I had to do.
I arrived at the venue right around eleven. I expected Rachel and her friends to be there, but I didn’t see the limo. When I asked one of the workers, they confirmed they hadn’t seen the bride that morning.
I couldn’t believe it was Rachel who was late. I hoped she wasn’t having second thoughts.
I went into the assigned groom’s suite to change. If Rachel showed up and I wasn’t ready, I was sure to hear it from her.
I finished tying my bow tie after several unsuccessful attempts when someone knocked on the door. For a split second, I hoped it was Sienna.
I went to the door and opened it.
“Good morning, Mr. Liston,” said Cheryl, the florist.
“Good morning.”
She handed me a boutonniere and a corsage. “These are for you.”
I stared at the corsage, which had been assigned to Sienna. “Thank you.”
She took her box of flowers, which contain
ed the bouquets, down the hallway to where Rachel was supposed to be finishing up getting ready.
I closed the door and placed Sienna’s corsage on the table. The delicate flowers wouldn’t be seen at my wedding, and that was a damn shame.
I pinned the boutonniere to my jacket, which was hanging in the small open closet. I was already sweating with the anticipation of what I was about to do.
A few minutes later, I heard Rachel coming down the hall. I waited until I heard her door shut before I entered the hallway and headed down to her room. My head felt light, as if I’d drunk a whole bottle of champagne. As difficult as this was going to be, I had to have a straight answer before I could marry her.
Inside the room, Rachel and her bridesmaids were laughing and being the loud single girls they always had been.
I knocked on the door loudly. Someone shushed the other girls and a few of them giggled before the door opened.
Ophelia was in my face. Her pink glossy lips frowned. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she said, reeking of booze.