it, Lila. This event reflects on me just as much as it does you. I’ve already found discrepancies with the linens”—she glanced at Kash’s cart—“and I’ll need to have a look at those centerpieces.”
I drew a breath that did nothing to calm me. “Do what you have to, Addison,” I repeated, not willing to engage.
Discrepancies, my ass. I’d gone over everything last night for the fortieth time. If she’d actually found a problem, I would have handed over my gun and badge on the spot.
Addison gave Kash a final look, one mixed with appreciation and suspicion, but he only glared back before following me toward the atrium.
My hands shook, not from fear, but adrenaline. The pressure was palpable—Addison was going to breathe down my neck all night, inspect everything I did with kid gloves, looking for something, anything, to hold over me. She’d see me screw up or die trying.
I could only hope for the latter. Maybe one of those fictional dive-bombing pigeons would attack her like a Hitchcock movie. Or maybe she’d be within the cake’s blast range. Or she would eat the fish and shit her pants all night. I’d take any disaster if it rid me of Addison.
Once in the ballroom, I beelined for my interns, directing them to help Kash unload rather than uselessly watch half a dozen hotel crew lay out tablecloths. All five of them headed for the door, looking grateful for something to do, but before Kash followed, he stepped into me. His hand slid into the notch of my waist like it belonged there, the other capturing my chin, tilting it so the full weight of his gaze would be felt. And it was.
“It doesn’t matter that she’s here or what she says. Everything is going to be perfect—you know that deep down. Because you have orchestrated this event, and you don’t do anything halfway. You don’t even do it all the way. You don’t settle for anything but above and beyond, and she’ll see it. Even if she doesn’t acknowledge it, she’ll see it.”
The twist in my chest eased with a release of breath. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered with a sideways smile. “Now, go do what you came here to do so we can get the fuck out of here.”
With a laugh, I pushed up on my tiptoes to kiss him.
And then I went and did the hell out of my job.
Five hours—that was how long it took us to get set up. All hands were busy and full with the exception of Addison, who made it her job to triple-check everything I did, floating behind me like a ghost. Kash kept his distance, his eyes forever darting in her direction, watching her like a great black cat. And the jackal watched him right back, promising ruin should he even try to intervene.
It felt like no time had passed—there never seemed to be enough when setting these things up—before the wedding party began to arrive. The Felix sisters arrived first, bridesmaids and groomsmen and immediate families. A fleet of makeup artists and hairdressers were already waiting in the bridal suite, and the bartender in the groom’s quarters was stocked up and ready to pour.
Other than escorting them to their suites, I was too busy with final preparations to even notice Addison’s hovering or Kash’s absence or anything beyond the checklist occupying the majority of space in my brain.
I stood at the back of the atrium room where the ceremony would take place, the city stretching up in the night around me as I enjoyed the moment of relative calm before the guests began to arrive. Interns were still fooling with the arrangements at the ends of the rows of chairs, and a crew member ran final tests with the microphones wired into the arbor. The wedding was about to go off, and the only hitch would happen at the end of this aisle.
“Lila …”
A flash of recognition, then disappointment as I turned to find Brock standing behind me.
His was not the male voice I wanted to hear.
My shoulders drew back, chin leveling. I started to turn away. “I’m sorry. I’m very busy—”
“Hang on. Please.”
There was something about the way he’d said the word, a sincerity so unlike him that I paused, uncertain what to do.
He took the window, saying softly, “I hate this, Lila. All of it.”
“So do I, but I don’t suspect for the same reasons,” I answered at equal decibel.
Standing there with him, his face touched with regret