The Ex (The Boss 4)

upon if not his loving wife? I promise not to make a habit of it.

My heart skipped a little beat, seeing him refer to me that way. I read on.

I love you. I love our best days and our worst, our arguments (and what usually follows). I love you when you lecture me about feminism, and when you listen to me prattle on about cars. I love your ice-cold feet, your magnificent breasts—

I laughed and looked up at the four women staring expectantly at me, and I whispered, “It’s private.”

—and all the rest of you. I love you, Sophie Scaife. There will never be a single day that I don’t. I am honored to be your husband.

All my love,

Neil

I clasped the paper to my chest and blinked back tears. Damn. We weren’t even at the ceremony yet, and I was blubbering. He was trying to win the stupid bet before the wedding even started. That was playing dirty.

“Open the box!” Mom practically shrieked, and Emma lifted the lid as I held it.

Inside, a yellow diamond so dark it appeared almost tan, in a perfect tear-shaped cut, nestled in a gold setting. Lengths of smooth, flat gold made up the impossibly stiff-looking chain, but as I lifted the necklace from the box, it moved easily, and branches of gold held more diamonds, brilliant white, in what seemed like every possible cut. It looked like a delicate vine that bore diamonds as fruit.

“He wanted me to tell you that if you’d rather wear the jewelry you picked out, that’s fine, but ‘for god’s sake, give it to the butler to lock in the hotel safe.’”

I raised an eyebrow at her. Neil was prone to ridiculous spending where I was concerned, but only when he thought he could get away with it without being scolded.

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s over four-hundred karats total weight It’s not like you can just casually lose it. He wanted you to know that it came from one of your friends in Bahrain? Since when does my dad have friends in Bahrain?”

Emir. A fresh wave of tears watered my vision. He’d found a way to be with us on our wedding day.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” my mom said, getting to her feet. She came over and reached her free hand out to stroke the chain. She pulled her fingers from the box, as if she were afraid she’d be asked to pay for touching it.

“Here.” Holli took the necklace and helped me fasten it around my throat. Emma had been right; it looked amazing with my dress. It even went well with the small round diamond studs I’d planned to wear in my ears.

I faced the mirror. The woman reflected there was way too hot to be me. Her dark hair was too glossy, too expertly teased and sculpted, falling over her shoulders in spirals like a fairy tale princess. Her make-up—subtly smoky eyes and deep berry lips—was expertly applied, her skin buffed to flawless perfection.

Okay, never mind, I could totally look that hot. But I was amazed at how calm I seemed. I scanned my reflection for any telltale sweat beading on my powdered nose or bronzer-ed cheeks. Any tremble in my shoulders or my hands. All my inner turmoil was well-disguised.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready.”

* * * *

Shelby brought us to the catering entrance of the Terrace Room, confirming on her headset all the while that the foyer was clear and all the guests were seated inside.

“You look beautiful, kiddo,” Mom told me, and I saw tears at the corners of her eyes. I made a note not to look at her during the ceremony, if I wanted to win the bet over who would cry first. As the elevator opened and everyone made a concerted effort to get my dress out without the doors closing on it, I remembered my vows, neatly printed out and folded in my purse upstairs.

“Oh no!” I gasped, turning to bolt back into the elevator.

Holli waved a square of paper in my face. “Looking for these?”

“I…” My voice stuck in my throat, and I threw my arms around her thin shoulders. “You’re the best friend in the world.”

“In the universe, bitch,” she corrected me. “Now, stand up. You’re not going down the aisle hunched over like an Igor.”

“Right, right.” I straightened and fanned my face, trying to dry my already prone-to-watering eyes.

The curtained entrance that had been parted for guests to enter and find their seats was narrower now. Shelby bent her headset mic closer to her mouth and said in a lowered voice, “Groom to walk the mother of the bride…” She paused then motioned to the two uniformed attendants standing by. They flanked the opening in the curtain. Mom went in, and they closed it up behind her.

I resisted my urge to peek at Neil. I wanted to know how he looked. I wanted to see him, so the ocean of nerves sloshing in my stomach would control themselves. I clenched my fists and unclenched them. Sweaty palms were a good sign, right?

“Sophie?” Holli asked, pressing my bouquet of burgundy-black calla lilies into my hands. Simple gold ribbon mummified the stems, with a long braid down the front. I stared at them until Holli gently shook me. “Sophie, breathe.”