Page 75 of After 5
“It’s too bad his aunt broke her hip. I would have liked to visit with her.”
Caiyan’s aunt Itty fractured her hip chasing a brigand across the ice in the Swiss Alps. She was beside herself she couldn’t attend the wedding. The retired agent occasionally moonlighted for the WTF and was having a passionate love affair with Al from the travel lab.
An elegant harp sat off to one side of the room and played soft Celtic music. Good choice. My inner voice held up a sign, Satan’s Bitch 2, Jen 0.
I studied the crowd. “Isn’t that Marco’s sister, Evangeline?” I asked Ace.
He squinted at the pretty brunette sitting a few seats in front of us on the bride’s side. “Blimey, I believe you’re right.”
“What’s she doing here?”
“Since Mafuso Motors used to sponsor Marco, she would be a friend of the bride.”
“Really?”
“Don’t you know the Mafusos will keep a finger on Marco. If they want to pressure ’im, they’ll use her. Every move Mahlia makes is calculated.”
Marco was taking a huge risk joining the WTF. His ties with the Mafusos were intermingled with his family. I needed to make nice with him and sort out our friendship. After I saved my foolish, piano playing Scot from making the mistake of his life.
Once the guests were seated, a rotund priest took his place at the head of the aisle under the spectacular flowered arch constructed for the occasion.
A few moments later Caiyan entered and stood next to the priest. Black tuxedo, my heart sighed.
“Odd,” Ace said. “I was certain he would wear a kilt.”
A brief flutter of hope tickled my insides.
He didn’t have anyone standing up for him. No best man. No Brodie, no friend from high school, or cousin he was forced into selecting. No one.
I gathered my wits. Calm down, Jen. The harpist began playing the wedding march, and my SuperJen mantra followed along in key. Deep breath. He’s not going to marry her. He’s not going to marry her.
The guests stood around me. My legs were frozen to the chair. Ace tucked his hand under my arm and gently helped me to my feet.
Mahlia, wide, fake smile plastered on her face, was escorted down the aisle by Gian-Carlo. Damn, she looked beautiful. Double-damn, her gown was an Ivy Isabella. It was on my list. Now I’d have to delete it off my Pinterest board.
Not only had she stolen my man, she wore my favorite wedding gown. As she passed by me, the low neckline of the gown displayed the bronzed flesh of her perfect breasts. Lace cap sleeves ran across her shoulders and connected at the neck, encircling a thin swan of elegance. I imagined my hands there instead.
“Stop plotting ’er demise and think about what she’s not wearing,” Ace said.
He was right. She wasn’t wearing her key. The perfect diamond-shaped cutout between her neck and chest was naked.
I glanced at Caiyan. He tugged on his shirt collar and I thought the light made his face appear pale, or maybe it was pale.
Mahlia progressed toward him. She stopped in front of the priest, and Gian-Carlo gave her away.
Caiyan smiled, more at Gian-Carlo than Mahlia.
The priest greeted the guests and began his traditional sermon about love and finding the perfect someone.
Caiyan’s eyes scanned the crowd. For a moment, I thought he saw me. I’m right here.
“I love weddings.” Ace dabbed at his eyes.
“Ace, who’s side are you on?”
“Yours, of course, doll, it’s just that weddings always make me tear up.”
“This isn’t a real wedding.”
