Without a Hitch(35)

When I quirk an eyebrow toward his hands, he chuckles. “You can be such a snob, Banny. I haven’t lived in London in years. I’m as New York as they come, son.”

Nova laughs and kisses him on the cheek. “New York with a thick side of Britishisms, papa.”

Then she turns on me.

Bloody fucket. Here it comes.

“You just said bloody fucket in your head, didn’t you?” Nova’s laughter draws the attention of the small group of men to our left, and I scowl fiercely until they avert their gazes.

“Banny, you must stop scaring away the young men. How is Nova supposed to find a match?”

“Mother, Nova has no trouble finding dates. Trust me. I live right next door to her.”

“Hold up. Stop right there. We’re talking about you and a bridesmaid, not me and my love life.”

We glare at each other with no heat, accustomed to throwing each other under the bus and waiting for our parents to choose who is in the line of fire. The second my father takes a breath to speak, I know I’ve lost this round.

“Just wait,” I mouth so only Nova can see.

“I’m here for it,” she mouths back.

“Nova, you must know her name,” my father continues. “The beautiful one with long dark hair?”

“Abby,” we say in unison.

Nova narrows her eyes. “So, you’ve got a thing for Abby? I’ll have to see what I can find out.”

“Leave it. I’ve got it covered,” I warn.

Music begins to play, and people are starting to mill about our table. I nearly take out a server in my quest to claim my chair. The douche that had his hand on its back will just have to move along.

Setting my tumbler on the table, I slip into the seat as if I didn’t see him, and attempt to shake out the strange sensation affixed to my spine.

“Smooth, Loch. Real smooth,” Nova whispers, sliding into the seat beside me. “Sorry about that.”

She nods to the stranger at my back. “He’s very territorial, it seems.”

I hear him speak but pay no attention to the words. My gaze and my focus are on the door. Things are about to get spicy.





C HAPTE R 1 2

TILLY

The Foundry/Bamford Reception

“I ’m not sure how it happened,” Bailey, Audra’s best friend, whispers. Tears pool around her eyes.

Bailey is what we labeled in my business plan as the guardian. She has made it her job to ensure everything goes perfectly for her best friend and bride, Audra. Unfortunately, Audra’s cousin, Katrina, is a one-upper and has spent every waking moment trying to outdo her cousin.

That included the wedding photos we took during the cocktail hour. The photographer wanted one of Audra pretending to throw her bouquet over her shoulder with bridesmaids flanking either side.

Katrina shoved her out of the way to ensure she was fully facing the camera instead of peering over her shoulder like the rest of us. Bailey, who was on Audra’s other side, dove forward to keep the bride from falling down the stairs.

“It’s okay, Bailey. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was absolutely her fault,” Katrina hisses.

Squaring my shoulders, I transform into the bridal baddie bitch. “Listen to me,” I snap. “What is wrong with you? Seriously. This is your cousin’s wedding. The one day in her entire life where she gets to have everything be about her, and you have pissed, moaned, and one-upped her every move.”

Audra’s mother enters the room with a scowl that matches Katrina’s. “Well, what are we supposed to do now?”

All eyes turn to me, but I lean into Katrina even more. “Do not fuck around with me. Wedding days are magical. Fucking magical for the bride and the bride only. Do you hear me?”

She sucks in a breath but doesn’t fight me, so I give her a lingering glare before turning back to Audra. “Okay, this is what we’re going to do. Bailey, you’re going to take Audra into the bridal room.

I’ll run out to the reception and tell them to extend the cocktail hour a few more minutes while I find the girl who was fixing our dresses.”

Audra holds her broken heel in her hands. “Maybe I can just go barefoot?”

“Not on your life,” her mother rolls her eyes. “Audra, that dress was made to the exact length so you would float into the reception. Float! Without those shoes, you’ll look like an over-iced cupcake.”

Audra’s lip trembles.

“Just as a backup, what size shoe are you?” I ask, ignoring the wicked witch of a mother.

“A f-five.”

Of course, this little peanut of a woman would have a child-sized foot.

“This is absurd. You know that, right?” Jefferson, the groom, growls in Katrina’s direction.

She just shrugs.

“Okay, Bailey, Jefferson, and Audra, go to the bridal suite. I’ll be there soon.”

Jefferson gives me a grateful nod and shoots a look full of hate at his mother-in-law. Eesh. Family dynamics are tough among the one percent.

Snagging the broken shoe from Audra, I hike up my gown and hurry out into the reception. There must be close to five hundred people here. How the hell am I going to find this woman? I’m searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack when my breath catches in my throat.