Beautiful Beginning(32)
these two, you can’t force anything. They are forces of nature. I’m so
happy for you both, and I’m happy for Susan and myself, Henry and Mina. It
feels a bit like the world has settled down the right path when you two are
together.”
My father took the mic when Elliott handed it to him. It squawked loudly,
and everyone winced. Dad apologized in a shaky voice and then cleared his
throat. “Chloe’s my only kid, and her mother died several years back. I
suppose I’m here representing for both of us, but I’ve never been any
good at this kind of thing. All I want to say is that I’m proud of you,
honey. You found the one person who not only can handle you, but wants to
handle you. And for your part, Ben, I like how you look at my daughter. I
like what I see in you, and I’m proud to be able to call you son.”
Elliott seemed to sense that my dad was growing a little emotional, so he
retrieved the mic from my father’s shaking hand. “We’ve put together a
little slide show of these kids growing up. It’ll play on a loop for you
to enjoy during dinner. Please, enjoy the meal and the company.”
The guests applauded briefly and then awww’d in unison as pictures of us
as babies, as small kids, and as teenagers reeled through. I smiled at
pictures of me in my mother’s arms, wrestling with my father. I looked so
goofy. In each of his photos, Bennett was well groomed and handsome, even
in his awkward preteen years.
“Were you ever hideous?” I asked in a hiss. A picture of me came on
screen and was met with loud laughter: it was the year of the worst haircut
in the history of the world—jagged bangs, the rest of it basically a
mullet—and braces so big I looked like I was eating train tracks.
“Wait for it,” Bennett murmured.
Just after he said it, a picture came up of Bennett holding some sort of
certificate. Clearly he’d had a growth spurt; his pants were too short,
his hair was long and unkempt, and the picture caught him in the middle of
a particularly unattractive laugh. He looked just a fraction less than
gorgeous, but by no means hideous.
“I hate you,” I said.
He leaned over, kissing the side of my head. “Sure you do.”
The pictures ended in the present day, with a shot I recognized from the
picture of us that Susan kept in the family room: Bennett stood with his
arms behind me, bent and whispering something in my ear while I laughed. I
leaned over, kissed my dad’s cheek, then stood and hugged Elliott and
Susan.
The pictures began to reel through again, and everyone began sipping at the
wine the waiters poured into their glasses. I looked down our table,
watching our wedding party in their unguarded moments. Sara said something
under her breath as Max leaned close and kissed her cheek. Down the table,
Will threw an almond at Hanna, and she tried to catch it with her mouth,
missing by a mile. George and Julia argued about the ramifications of the
return of acid wash. Bennett’s niece Sofia crawled all over Henry’s lap
and Elliott poured water for Susan, who looked up at me and smiled, full of
such happiness that I could practically see the entire history of Chloe and
Bennett in her eyes, and how much she’d wanted this for her son. Beside
me, Bennett reached under the table and slid his hand up my knee and under
my skirt.
My heart squeezed so tight it felt like it stopped beating, and then took
off in a heavy, stuttering gallop.
The rehearsal had been so disorganized that it wasn’t until this moment,
right here, that I felt the full force of our impending wedding.
I was getting married tomorrow.
To Bennett Ryan.
To the man who’d anger-f*cked me into loving him.
I remembered . . .
“Miss Mills, it would make working with you so much easier if you wouldn’
t insist on ignoring all grammatical rules in your meeting minutes.”
“Mr. Ryan, I noticed the company is offering communication training to
entry-level managers. Shall I sign you up?”
“Take these invoices down to accounting. What, Miss Mills? Do you require
a map?”
I reached for my water, hand shaking as I downed half of it.
“You okay, baby?” Bennett whispered in my ear. I nodded frantically,
giving him the calmest smile I could manage. I’m sure I looked like a
lunatic. I could feel sweat breaking out on my forehead, and my silverware
clattered onto my bread plate as I fumbled for my napkin. Bennett stared in
naked fascination, as if he were watching a lightning storm build in slow
motion.
“It’s nice to see you finally taking an interest in your physical
fitness, Miss Mills.”
Beautiful f*cking Bastard.
“And then you’re going to make up the hour lost this morning by doing a
mock board presentation of the Papadakis account for me in the conference
room at six.”
And I remembered . . .