Page 3 of One Touch
I sighed, shoulders slumping. “An event with Marge would be incredible, but I don’t know if I can swing it right now. Money’s really tight with the wedding and everything. . . .”
“I get it. But don’t give up on the idea, okay? We’ll figure out a way to make it happen.”
I was about to reply when I heard something outside the room. It was Elara, and shedidnot sound happy. “You have to let me in!”
My brows furrowed. What was going on?
“Not happening,” came a gruff reply. That was Thrall, the bassist from The Impalers. He had a voice that sounded like he smoked fifty cigarettes a day. Probably because he smoked fifty cigarettes a day. “Boss said no one bothers the bride.”
“I’m her maid of honor, knucklehead!”
“Answer’s no.”
There was no way in hell I was going to stop Elara coming in. I strode forward, but before I could reach for the handle, the door burst open.
Elara barreled through, her pretty green eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and concern. She looked amazing. You could just about tell she was pregnant now, and that little round belly looked so cute on her in spite of the somber dress. Vlad had initially wanted the bridesmaids in black, too, but he’d eventually agreed that they could wear gray, on the proviso that they had black detailing on the trim.
Thrall stumbled in behind her, his expression darkening.
“El?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion. “What’s going on?”
Elara’s gaze locked onto mine, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush. “Lily, I need to tell you something.” She looked over at the beer-stained couch. “Do you want to sit down?”
I shook my head, but I felt my eyelid twitch involuntarily. Why did I feel like my whole universe was about to fall apart?
“It’s about Vlad,” Elara whispered.
My heart stuttered in my chest. “What about him?”
Thrall stepped forward, his large frame imposing. “Don’t listen to her, Lily. Whatever she’s about to tell you. Just focus on the wedding.”
Elara glared at him. “She deserves to know the truth!”
I held up a hand, silencing their bickering. I looked around at the make-up artist, the hair stylist, and the photographer, wondering if I should send them out of the room, but somehow, I didn’t have the energy. Thankfully, they were good people, and they pretended to be very interested in something at the other end of the room. “What’s going on, El?”
Elara took a deep breath, her eyes softening as they met mine. Very, very quietly, so I could barely hear it, she said, “He’s cheating on you, honey.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I staggered back, my mind reeling.
“Vlad and I had an argument. Well, more than one. So, I wanted to make up with him before the wedding. Clear the air.” She sighed. “I made him a pistachio croissant. It was meant to be a peace offering. I went to drop it off at his apartment, but when I arrived, I . . . saw a girl. Slipping out the window. Clutching a sheet around her.”
Thrall scoffed. “It’s bullshit. Probably just some groupie who got lost.”
But Elara’s gaze never wavered from mine. “I’m so sorry, Lils. I didn’t want to believe it either, but. . . .”
Determination hardened in my gut. “I need to see Vlad.”
Thrall stepped into my path. “It’s bad luck to see the groom before the wedding.”
I leveled him with a glare. “A bird just shat on me, Thrall. Don’t talk to me about bad luck.”
I pushed past him, ignoring his protests. My heart pounded as I navigated the familiar hallways of The Gold Mine, my wedding dress swishing around my ankles. I reached Vlad’s door, my hand poised to knock.
I heard something from inside.
Moaning. Breathy sighs of pleasure, punctuated by rhythmic creaking.
My stomach turned to lead. I eased the door open as quietly as I could, steeling myself.
