artificial swags of grapes over the entryway. It’s located at the small in-town vineyard where visitors can stomp on grapes during the season and take wine-making classes all year long. Since it’s not owned by either of our families, it’s been selected as neutral ground.
Standing in the foyer, I glance off to the right through the big double doors that lead to the main hall where the ceremony will take place.
There are only twenty chairs set up in front of the altar, draped in white linen adorned with yet more swags of grapevine.
The Witlocke and the Ribaldi families are standing side by side, with huge, forced smiles on their faces. I don’t see Jonathan anywhere. I assume he’s in the groom’s room, changing into something a little less surfer bro. Or taking more selfies. His friend’s cheerfully chatting with the Witlockes, who are tolerating him with their usual pained, suppressing-a-toot expressions.
Carrie Hastings, the reporter from the Greenvale Herald, stands facing both families, snapping pictures. Understandable. Seeing both families assembled together without fists and hair extensions flying is rarer than Halley’s Comet.
Still, her presence sends a crackle of unease rasping along my nerves. Her ex-husband is Marcus Hastings, of Hastings Real Estate, and he’s brokering the huge real estate deal that’s meant to save the finances of both our families. Their divorce was famously bitter, and she’s not going to be thrilled with anything that benefits him.
Like this wedding, which is meant to help convince Ferguson Property Holdings that the Witlocke-Ribaldi feud is well and truly over. I watch her skeptically. She’s got dyed flame-red hair, a figure that rivals my mothers, and spite blazing from her exquisitely made-up brown eyes. Yep, she’s here to stir up trouble.
My mother catches sight of me and hurries to my side.
“There you are!” she says with a huge, bright smile.
“Here I am,” I agree listlessly.
“Sell it, sweetie!” she murmurs. She inclines her head at Carrie, and I force a big smile.
“I’m selling, I’m selling. Have you seen Mia?”
Mia was a high school friend of mine, and my family recruited her to be my maid of honor. Mia’s father owns the restaurant where my mother started working a month ago, when she flew back into town after the collapse of her latest marriage. Their family is also renting out an apartment to her.
My mother’s gaze sweeps the crowd. “She’s around here somewhere.”
“I need help putting my dress on.”
Aceto makes a loud noise. “Naow.” I interpret it as, “No.”
My mother’s eyes widen in horror. “Sienna. Please. He’ll ruin everything. Get rid of that thing!”
I generally just go along with whatever my mother says, because she’s the type who will keep wheedling and insisting until she wears you down. There are times when I have to put my foot down, though.
“Aceto accompanies me, or there is no wedding. You can hold him during the ceremony, but you’d better not lose him or I swear I’ll demand an immediate annulment.”
“I’m not holding him. He hates me.” She sniffs. “Your uncle Vito can hold him. And you need to go find Mia. If you can’t find her, I’ll help you change.”
“Fine. I need to use the restroom first. I’ll meet you in the bride’s room.” I hand her the gym bag with my wedding dress in it, and head to the bathroom.
The bathroom is painted with murals of vineyards, and has even more swags of grapevines. As soon as I walk in, loud banging and groaning sounds inform me that someone’s getting busy in the stalls. I roll my eyes in annoyance. I know weddings inspire hookups, but come on. Couldn’t the horndogs have at least waited until after the ceremony?
The door to the bathroom bangs open, and Carrie bustles in, followed by April, the groom’s mother.
“So, this wedding…and the family’s reconciliation.” Carrie’s eyes are narrowed and her voice sizzles with suspicion. “The timing is certainly very convenient.”
April glares at her, then walks over to the mirror and starts applying lipstick.
I flash a wide, bright smile. “Sure is. Great, isn’t it?”
“Harder! Harder!” a female voice shrieks from the stalls. Carrie flicks a glance of distaste in their direction, then returns her attention to me.
“And I hear that you and the groom may have a little surprise on the way?”
My smile wavers. “You heard that, did you?”
Carrie’s eyes glitter with malice. “Your mother told me. She said it’s the reason everything’s so rushed.”
Of course she did.
“Well, very early days. We don’t know yet.”
What’s the punishment for matricide in the state