Ebony GraceBridges.
It was so simple and easy. The sweeping B felt natural, complementary. All those soft, flowing curves, rounded letters rising and dipping with an elegant flourish, then ending with an effortless tail, before I placed the simple dot above the i.Honeyyyy…
It was sexy, imagining being Linc’s wife. Imagining himcallingme his wife.Chile…The way heat blazed down my spine and time seemed to speed up.
Except it really did.
I blink and there’s Hailey—pointing and laughing at me scribbling my name with a guy’s last name five dozen times.
She clears her throat, clearly still waiting for me to explain why I’m in here and not outside, moving the wedding party around like pawns on a chessboard and orchestrating her ceremony processional.
Humiliation burns hot on my skin.
“It’s the, um, vendors.” I snap my fingers like I just remembered this important fact. “For tomorrow morning. They need access to the grand ballroomearly, you know, to set up—”
“The forty huge round tables?” She fans out her arms. “These here, that are already dressed in pristine white linens with gorgeous china plates and spotless silverware, and are only missing the flowers? Is that what they need to do?” Hailey giggles.
Yeah, still needs work.
It’s obvious the grand ballroom has been prepared since yesterday. The crystal chandelier is a magical, sparkling beacon of hope and true love glittering over an elegant wonderland. Delicate fairy lights are strung around pillars. It’s romantic and whimsical, and proof that I’ve absolutely outdone myself.
Clearly, proof that I’m a whole-ass liar about why I’m still inside.
“Well, the rehearsal is scheduled to start in a few minutes, so…” I suck in a sharp breath. “You should get back out to your guests.”
A smile teeters on Hailey’s lips. “Funny, because that’s exactly why I came in here looking for you. And what did I find you doing, Eh-bo-nyyyy?” She draws out my name, each syllable dripping with accusation.
“I was jotting down notes.” I rush to correct the story she’s cooked up in her head—though, to be fair, she might be right.
“Mm, mm, mm…” The shame.Hailey plants her fists on her hips, chin tilted down with amused disappointment. “Ebony Grace Livingston—or should I say, Ebony Grace—was thatBridgesI saw you doodling at the end of your name?”
Shit.
Yes.“No!”
She’s already rushing me, yanking me into a full-body hug. “Friend, no one has to know,” she whispers in my ear. “Girl, don’t be ashamed. You’re in love and radiating a fierce energy.”
“Absolutely not.” I try to break free, but she tightens her hold.
“I freaking love this for you!” A quiet scream squeaks out of her. “Honestly, this whole transformation you’re undergoing… The hair, the clothes, the divorcétante looking luscious and landing legends.”
“Legends?” I repeat on a half laugh.
Hailey gives me a double snap. “Oop, and we can’t forget, leveling Livingstons.”
A deep sigh spills out of me.
“No, for real,for real, Ebs.” She blows out a breath, kisses her fingers, and presses her thumb and forefinger together, giving me the universal “chef’s kiss” symbol. “You are straight up myhero.I want to be you when I grow up. And I probably shouldn’t say this, seeing how she’s about to be my mother-in-law, but the way you handed Cornelia her ass at the shower, then she had the audacity to take herself onto the ever-lovingMorningTea…”
See, resistance? Futile.
“Ugh, fine.” I throw up my hands. “Yes, I was doodling my name with Lincoln Bridges’s. There, now you know.”
She finally releases me from her iron grip, stepping back to give herself a round of applause. “Ooh, I’m so happy for you, Ebs!”
Yay, more squeals.Love that for my ears.
“We’renotengaged. I was just…trying his name on for size.” I laugh. “But thanks. Now, is there any way you can justpretendthat you weren’t being nosy as hell, lurking around in my business when you should’ve been outside rehearsing for your grand wedding tomorrow?” I flash a small sorry-not-sorry smile.
