talking to God-knows-who in that earpiece since we got in the room two hours ago. She rushes over in a frenzy, throwing death daggers at me with her beady black eyes.
“Where is it? Where did you leave it?” she barks, her neck turning bright red as she fists my lapels.
I want to drag this little charade out a bit, make Gunner squirm to the point he’s so relieved when I do pull it out that he’ll coast right through the ceremony unfrazzled. However, I’m afraid female Adolph may actually kill me later, so I bend down and retrieve the ring from my black trouser sock—my sock that can be seen without even hiking up my pant leg, no less.
Lifting it in the air, I hold it in front of my cousin’s face and stifle back the laugh threatening to escape. “Calm your tits, yo. I may feel like ass and look like a clown, but I’m not a fucking assclown. I’d never let you down, especially not something like this. Now, let’s go get you hitched.”
At six o’clock sharp, the three of us follow Lady Hitler out of our dressing room and into the ballroom, taking our places at the front of the grandiose room, next to the minister. A sea of faces mixed with enough blue and white flowers to start a small nursery greets us when we turn around to wait for the ceremony to begin.
I try to scan the crowd, looking for familiar faces of our friends from the motocross tour who are here to celebrate with Gunner, but before I make it to the third row, the music begins and Gunner’s parents start making their way down the aisle to be sat in the front row. Following my aunt and uncle is Emmy Sue’s mom, escorted by Emmy’s brother, and then the music changes as Meghan, the first bridesmaid, begins to make the trek toward us, exactly like we all rehearsed last night.
Once she’s in her designated spot, I refocus my attention to the back, aware it’s Tori’s turn to strut down the aisle next. Except when the big wooden door opens, a familiar sassy-mouthed blonde appears in her place, wearing the dress Tori was supposed to be wearing, carrying the maid-of-honor bouquet.
Sucking in a surprised breath through my teeth, her bright blue gaze locks on mine immediately and a wicked grin skirts around the corners of her mouth. Then, she lifts her chin proudly in the air and glides forward with the grace of a ballerina, every eye in the room staring at her. But hers never leaves mine.
I shift as my clown pants become uncomfortably tighter and drop my hands casually in front of my crotch to hide the evidence.
Her grin morphs into a smirk.
Today might not be such a bad day after all.
SATURDAY, JUNE 16
BEING IN SOMEONE’S WEDDING THAT you haven’t seen in five years is strange, to say the least. Forty-eight hours ago, I wasn’t even invited to this lavish affair. And by lavish, I mean oh-my-God-Emilia-I-knew-your-parents-had-money-but-this-is-fucking-off-the-chain kind of affair.
The minute I stepped into the hotel lobby of the Ritz-Carlton earlier this afternoon, it felt like I’d fallen down the rabbit hole, directly into Wonderland with Alice and the Mad Hatter. Pocket watches, top hats, and croquet sets adorned the brightly colored room, where wrought-iron patio tables were set up, each equipped with a vintage tea set. Twinkly white lights hung down from the ceiling, adding the final touch to the awe-inspiring ambiance of the space.
And then, when I met Emilia in the bridal suite which was fully decorated like the inside of Alice’s cottage, she told me the lobby would only be used for the cocktail hour between the ceremony and the reception, and I couldn’t help the stupefied expression that fell over my face. Somehow, I managed to keep my manners and not ask what kind of investment this wedding was, but seriously . . . what the fuck happened when they left Breckenridge?
Now, here I stand outside the grand ballroom, the fanciest hotel in all of Summit County, dressed in a cerulean blue, floor-length chiffon dress, holding a bouquet of fragile indigo orchids and delicate white lilies, waiting for my turn to enter the ceremony. Chuckling to myself, I think about what a whirlwind of a day it’s been, and the wedding is just beginning.
When Emilia called in a hysterical panic this morning, I wanted to help her out in any way I could. Little did I know that