I chuckled asSaradelicately adjusted the hook and eye closure on the back of my dresswithoutmessing up my beautiful hair.Valentino, excited to do something different than how he styled me at work, had curled my hair and then pinned half of it up so it was out of my face.
“She is beauty…she is grace,”Valentinobegan to say.
“She isMissUnitedStates,”Ifinished the sentence for him, quoting one of our favorite movies,MissCongeniality.
“Alright, it’s time,”Sarasaid. “Youready?”
“Absolutely,”Isaid, smiling back at her.
“It appearsI’myour handler for everything,”Sarateased me.Iknew she meant it as a joke, but at the same time, she wasn’t wrong.Yes, she was myFBIhandler, but she had also become my dear friend.
I thanked both of them and made my way outside to marry the manIloved.
An hour later, we were sitting in the two tents we had rented for the reception.Fullydecorated tables filled the space to cater to the forty people we’d invited.Smalland intimate, but the people who mattered the most.Wehad a small bar, a buffet full of food, and a large dance floor in the middle.
Iris andIhad just come back from the bathroom—Ineeded her assistance because my dress was so huge on the bottom—and were walking back to the small table whereArcherandIwere seated.Hectorwas there talking withArcherwhen my sister spoke beside me in a low voice as we made our way across the room. “God, he’s so hot but so surly and grumpy all the time.”
She wasn’t wrong.Hectorseemed to have a perpetual frown on his face every timeI’dseen him, butItried to cut him some slack, given everything that had happened to him over the years. “Helost his brother while he was overseas and then had to live undercover with the mafia for years.I’dbe depressed and grumpy if that were my life too.”
“I refer to him asHectortheConvectorat work cause he’s all stormy,”Irisreplied.
At that comment,Iturned back to look at her. “Twothings,”Isaid, pausing in our walk back to the table. “One,Idon’t know what that means.”
Iris sighed as if annoyed with my stupidity. “Convectiveclouds are storm clouds.HectortheConvectoris the most famous storm inAustralia.Wejust thought it was clever at work because it’s his name but also a storm name, and he’s all stormy and grumpy all the time.”
She looked at me as if this was the most obvious piece of knowledge and she was embarrassed for me thatIdidn’t know.Iwasn’t a weather nerd, though, soIwasn’t sure why she expected me to know that.
“I’m not a science nerd like you, but let’s put that on hold so we can get to the second thing,”Itold her. “Whyare you talking aboutHectorat your job—often enough,Imight point out, that you have given him a nickname?”
She started to blush, andIremembered her words just a few minutes ago aboutHectorbeing hot.
“Oh my gosh, you like him!”Iexclaimed, keeping my voice low enough for only the two of us to hear. “Asin youlike himlike him.”
“So?” she responded a bit defensively. “Heignores me the few timesI’vetried to talk with him or looks at me as though he’d rather be anywhere but near me.”
“In all fairness, he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else no matter who talks to him,”Itold her.
“Nope, andI’llprove it to you,”Irissaid and started walking back over to whereHectorandArcherwere seated.
“Anna, you look beautiful tonight,”Hectorsaid to me as we approached. “ScarySpice, you look nice too.”
“ScarySpice?”Irislooked at him with confusion.
“Your hair reminds me ofScarySpicefrom theSpiceGirls—all curly and crazy,”Hectorresponded, andIknewIriswas about to give him a piece of her mind.
Iris didn’t mind the comparison toMariahCareybecause her hair looked just likeMariah’sin the beginning of her career—dark brown and very curly—but also because her body type resembledMariah’stoo, but more in the latter part of her career—full of curves.Butthat was it.Shedidn’t like comparisons to other celebrities, even if they were good ones, likeMelBfrom theSpiceGirls,AliciaKeys, orMichelleButeau.Iwasn’t sure why that was a sore spot for her, but it just was.
“You’re one to talk,”Irissnapped back at him. “Whenwas the last time you had a haircut?”
She was right.Hislook from when he andImet many months ago had changed.Henow sported a full-blown beard and a mop of dark-brown hair pulled back into a messy man-bun at the back of his head.Helooked like a younger version ofJasonMomoa—but just as rugged and un-tamed.Hepulled it off quite well, butIsawIris’spoint.
“And you look like you haven’t shaved in a month,”Irisadded, putting her hands on her hips.
“I haven’t,” he said very matter-of-factly, shrugging.Hethen turned to me, gave me a small smile, and said he was headed out for the night.BeforeIcould even thank him for coming, he was on his way out of the tent.Nogoodbye toArcherorIris—or anyone, for that matter.
A glance over atIrisshowed her eyebrow hitched high, as though to say, “Itold you so.”Touché.Shewas right.Theweird thing was why.BeforeIhad any time to ponder that,Archergrabbed me by the waist and pulled me into his lap.
“Okay, you two lovebirds,I’mgetting a drink,”Irissaid and started on her way to the bar.
