“Mom, you can’t let her do this,” Quincy begged Marigold. “I’m supposed to be the star.”
Even Marigold looked disgusted by Quincy’s temper tantrum. “You aren’t ever going to be the star at someone else’s wedding,” she told her. “One day you’ll be the star. But not right now. You’re going to admit to what you did. You’re going to apologize to Cindy for making all that stuff up about Tommy—”
Quincy shook her head. She looked like she was genuinely about to cry. Not crocodile tears, either. Real ones. “You said I was smart for making that stuff up—” she sniffled.
“And you were,” Marigold soothed. “Until we couldn’t pull it off.” She neglected to share the part about how she’d contributed to that plan falling through. “Tommy Prince could sue us. It would be a disaster. Now we’re just trying to keep this all afloat.”
“This isn’t fair,” she pouted, wiping away tears. “It’s not fair…”
I sighed. “If she doesn’t deliver,” I told Marigold, “you’ll never see or hear from us again, except through lawyers. And good luck with your little reality show if you’re broke and you can’t ever use us.”
Tommy had realized that he had something of far greater value to offer Meg Butler than my stepfamily’s endless stream of baseless accusations about him—his cooperation. Now that the pressures of the Oscar race were over, we had options. It hadn’t taken much to convince Meg Butler that using our wedding as the setting for the final episode was a more appealing plot line than whatever they had planned. In exchange for the exclusive right to film at our wedding, and for giving Tommy and me control of the final cut of the episode, Beauty Queens Out West would go out with a bang.
Sure, Quincy would seem like a bitch, but she already did. According to Meg, all the focus groups liked Greenlee better. Hell, the focus groups even liked me better, and I was supposedly the villain. Quincy just was not likable.
So instead of trying to make audiences love Quincy, Meg was going to make them love to hate her. She’d still be the star, kind of.
55
Tommy
“Apparently Ashton Radley can’t leave LA as a condition of his bail,” I told Derek as we got fitted for our tuxes that afternoon. We had other tuxes, but these needed to be special. These were wedding tuxes. “It’s such a tragedy he won’t be on our special wedding episode.” My sarcasm was obvious.
“Have you ever met him?” Derek asked me, fiddling with his cuffs. He’d agreed to be my best man. “He seems like such a douche.”
“I’ve thankfully never met him,” I said. “But of course, I heard the whole story about the money he stole from Connor and Isabelle.”
“Did you know she kicked him in the balls?” he asked.
“Isabelle?” I laughed.
“Yeah. She brought him to his knees and made him cry.”
“That’s fantastic.” Isabelle, although currently pregnant and therefore slightly larger, was tiny. But I had no doubt she could be plenty fierce. She’d have to be to put up with our uncle Connor.
As for Ashton Radley, he was probably going to jail if the tabloids were right. His court date was coming up soon, and he was facing several felonies—some of them against Connor, my uncle. The fact that he wouldn’t be at my wedding was a blessing.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married tonight,” Derek continued. “From winning an Oscar to getting married on reality TV in three days’ time. It’s a new record.”
“I’m not intentionally wrecking my career,” I told him, winking. “It’s just a bonus.”
“How’s Cindy?” Derek asked, steering clear of that subject. “Did she find a dress?”
I nodded. “Yes, but I haven’t seen it yet.”
“Well, I should hope not,” he laughed.
She was a surprisingly laid-back bride. We’d found a wedding planner able to do most of the heavy lifting on short notice, but Cindy still had to make dozens of decisions, one after another. She was taking it all in stride. I’d promised her that we could have another wedding, a real wedding, later if she wanted. But she didn’t seem to care about that. She said she was looking forward more to being married than she was to having a wedding. God, I loved that woman.
I smirked at him. “You know this is what I want, don’t you?”
Derek nodded and became serious. “Yes. I do. You’ve never been impulsive in your entire life except for this. That’s how I know it’s for real.”
It was for real. I’d never wanted anything as much as I wanted to marry Cindy and leave Hollywood. I was damn grateful that I met her. She’d woken me up and saved me from the hell I’d built for myself. The last months had changed my life. If I hadn’t run into her, I’d still be sleepwalking through my life. Thanks to her, I had a chance to actually live my life. But it was not without tradeoffs.
“Elaine is mad at me.”
Derek stepped up next to me in the mirror and raised an eyebrow at my reflection. “No, she’s not.”
I blinked at him. “She sounded mad when I called her.”
He shook his head. “I think she’s mad at herself. Honestly? I think she feels guilty about everything.”
“Elaine can feel things?” I mocked.
Derek laughed. “It does sound crazy, but yeah. I think she honestly thought she was protecting you. And you wouldn’t have won that damn Oscar if you hadn’t jumped through the Oscar hoops, as repulsive as they are. She’s not some kind of monster, although she talks a good game.”
He was right, of course. Elaine was just doing her job. It had been irritating, but I didn’t hold it against her.
“I invited her to the wedding,” I said. “But she didn’t say if she would come or not.”
“She’ll be here,” Derek promised. “She negotiated that deal with Meg Butler, and I know she’ll be here just to make sure she doesn’t go back on it.”
“Speaking of actual monsters, Meg Butler…”
Derek laughed. “Exactly. But Elaine could eat Meg for breakfast.”
“Either that or she’ll adopt her,” I offered.
“Now that’s a terrifying thought,” Derek replied. He shuddered.
“But you think she’ll be here?” I hoped he was right. Elaine was my friend. Frenemy. Whatever. She was my friend.
Derek nodded. “I know she will be. So will Connor and Isabelle, unless the baby comes early. Peter and Lucy will be here. And Dad, obviously. It’s just Holden that won’t be here.”
“Holden’s already back in New Zealand,” I said, shaking my head. “That kid is crazy.”
“He’s just chasing the next big picture,” Derek said. “You used to be like that, too.”
I laughed. “Yeah. You’re right. And now? Now I want to go back to Stanford and finish up my math degree.”
I was actually really looking forward to it. I had no idea what I’d do after that, but college sounded good. I wasn’t too old yet. Besides, nobody was ever too old to study math.
Derek cocked an eyebrow at me. “I’m pretty sure that makes you the crazy one.”
“Maybe so. But I’m happy. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”
Derek smiled “I think so.” He shook his head. “Are you scared?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of going back to college?” I laughed. “You don’t think I can handle the homework? The test anxiety? The reading?”
Derek laughed. “No! Of getting married, dummy. Are you scared of being a married man?”
I shook my head. “Why would I be scared?” I asked him. “I was scared when I proposed. But now I’m just excited.”
“What if Meg Butler doesn’t keep her end of the bargain and lets your future in-laws go off the rails at your wedding?” Derek asked. I’d already explained the plan to him, but he still seemed worried.
“Step-in-laws,” I clarified. And it’s not like we’d be close after this wedding. If Cindy and I had our way, we’d keep them at arm’s length for the rest of our lives.
“Yo
u know what I mean.”
I shrugged. “Then I sue Meg Butler and my step-in-laws into the ground.” I laughed. “But what’s the worst that could happen? I already won my Oscar.”
Derek rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t rub it in.”
56
Cindy
The wedding ceremony was planned for a terrace off a reflecting pool in the Venetian. It was a beautiful setting for a wedding ceremony—extravagant without being tacky, and elegant without being stuffy. When I saw the wedding space all done up with the thousands of creamy white roses, orchids, and ranunculus we ordered and lit with candlelight, it damn near made me cry.
Prior to two days ago, I’d never given a moment’s thought to my wedding. I guess I never thought I’d get married, but even when I considered the remote possibility, I was never the girl that obsessed about her potential wedding. That was always more a Quincy thing, and I’d heard her describe her dream wedding so many times I practically had it memorized. She had every single detail mapped out. Which probably helped explain why she was so fucking furious and jealous that I was getting married before her.
My dress was not one that Quincy would choose, either. She was all about the poufy, big ball gowns and tiny little corsets. Me, I was much more of a slinky dress type. I’d found something that fit my taste perfectly, although it wasn’t technically a wedding dress at all.
The dress was long and light silver, and it had little crystals sewed all over it. The best part about it was that I didn’t have to sew them on myself. The plunging neckline suited my narrow shoulders and full cleavage while still providing some coverage. The dress clung to my curves until my hips and then pooled into a puddle of glowing, whitish silver silk at the floor. Wearing it made me feel like I was a princess, although getting into it was a challenge.
I decided not to wear a veil. I tried a few on, but they felt silly on my head. Maybe I just wasn’t tall enough to wear a veil. But even the birdcage style didn’t suit me. I just wasn’t a veil girl. So, instead of a veil, I had an orchid pinned into my hair with a jeweled clip. It was more than enough.
I had no one but the wedding planner to help me get ready before the ceremony. I guess I could have asked my family, but I had no doubt that they were too busy backbiting and primping themselves to be much help to me. Besides, I didn’t want the cameras on me. So, I got ready on my own, trying not to feel melancholy that I had no female friends to help me now that Connie had betrayed me. Other than Ariel, the singing waitress from Sebastian’s karaoke bar who I’d only met once, I was pretty much totally friendless.
That’s why I was so surprised when someone knocked on my door, and even more surprised when I opened it to reveal Isabelle Schmidt and Lucy Prince. I’d never even met Lucy before, although of course I’d seen her in movies, and at the Oscars. I pulled the edges of my robe more closely around me.
“Hi—” I stuttered, looking at them with wide eyes.
“We came to help you,” Isabelle said, sweeping inside. She was wearing a pink dress with a halter neckline. “You shouldn’t get ready alone. It’s not right.”
Lucy smiled at me happily. She was wearing a dove grey dress with beading around the hips. Only someone as tall and slim as she was could pull that style of dress off. “Hi!” she said, towering over me. Good Lord, she was tall. And so incredibly beautiful. It was no wonder she was a movie star. “I’m Lucy.”
“Hi Lucy.” I shook her hand, feeling overwhelmed at the sudden company. “You guys didn’t have to come help me,” I managed, although I was glad for the companionship. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to zip the dress up by myself.
“I feel personally responsible for this wedding,” Isabelle told me. She was so pregnant it looked like the baby must be coming any second. “Of course, I had to come help you. If it weren’t for me, you would never have met Tommy Prince.”
I smirked at her. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
“You’re very welcome,” she replied, taking stock of the hotel room and the dress laid out on the bed. “Oh, this is beautiful.”
I smiled and reached out wistfully to brush the rhinestones. “You like it? I picked it out this morning. It’s technically not a wedding gown. Just an evening gown.”
“You’re wearing it to a wedding,” Lucy said. “I’m pretty sure that makes it a wedding dress by definition.”
She had a point.
“Where are your shoes?” Isabelle asked. “We need to put your shoes on first, then we can put the dress on you.”
I pointed at the pair of super high silver heels that the wedding planner had just dropped off, then went to put them on. Lucy ooh’d and ah’d over my ring as I did, although hers was just as big. I appreciated it anyway.
“Is that how you’re supposed to do it?” I asked as I fastened them. “Shoes first, then the dress.” They were strappy, but somehow not uncomfortable. They actually felt pretty sturdy now that I was in them.
“Yes,” Isabelle replied confidently. “At least, I think so. I’m making this up as I go along.” She laughed and I laughed with her. I was glad to have the company. I’d been getting too nervous in here by myself.
Once I got the shoes fastened, I pulled off my robe to reveal my industrial strength shapewear. It was like wearing a full body pair of compression socks. I wouldn’t be overeating tonight, which was probably doubly true because I was so nervous that I might throw up. A couple of days ago, I thought I’d never see Tommy Prince again. Now I was about to marry him. I struggled to keep myself together.
Lucy and Isabelle didn’t seem to notice. Working together, they carefully lifted the dress up over my head and then tugged it down and zipped it. It took three people to get it just right. I would never have been able to do this all myself.
“Wow,” Lucy said, standing back. “You really look incredible. That dress looks amazing on you.” Isabelle nodded approvingly. I turned and looked in the mirror.
The woman staring back at me in the mirror was smiling nervously, but she definitely was, unmistakably, a bride.
Isabelle fluffed my hair around my face and adjusted the orchid. “Are you ready?”
I took a deep breath. I had no idea. But I knew that I loved Tommy. I knew that he loved me too. I figured we could figure all the rest out along the way as long as that was true. Growing up, I never would have thought that I’d turn out to be such a romantic. But that was just exactly what I was.
“I think I am,” I said, looking down at the engagement ring on my finger. “Time to find out.”
“Welcome to the family,” Isabelle said as we left the hotel room to go down to the ceremony site. “It’s a bit crazy, but you’re going to like it.”
“Actually, I know about crazy,” I mumbled. We turned a corner and my family’s reality TV crew turned their cameras on me. Meg Butler winked at me when she saw me. She was wearing a lady’s tuxedo with a big red rose on her lapel, and her long dark hair was coiled high atop her head in an elaborate updo complete with more roses. “I doubt the Prince family has anything on mine.”
Beyond the camera crew, I could see Marigold sitting in the front row. She was wearing a blue-green chiffon gown that screamed “mother of the bride.” She was grinning, basking in the glow of the lights and the cameras. This was all she ever wanted. She was admired and amidst all the glitz, wealth, and glamour that she thought she deserved.
Greenlee looked pretty happy too. I had chosen black bridesmaid dresses. They were just simple column gowns, but made of a super-soft, incredibly fine silk, and they were tailored beautifully. Greenlee looked great in hers, especially with her new Daenerys-white hair. She clutched her white bouquet of flowers and smiled for the cameras.
Quincy looked like she wanted to murder me. She was smiling, but it was obvious that she was miserable and furious. As I prepared to step down the aisle, alone, I half expected her to lunge out and bite me, but she didn’t. She just continued to smile at me with murder in her eyes.
But I didn’t e
ven see her. I was focused on Tommy. Because the way he was looking at me made everything else melt away. I was ready.
“Oh, wait,” Isabelle said. I paused and she put a diamond bracelet on my wrist. I blinked at it in shock. It was megawatt shiny. “I almost forgot. You need your something borrowed,” she told me.
“And I have something blue,” Lucy said, sliding a little blue, flowered pin into my hair. “This pin belongs to my Mormor—my grandmother. So, it’s old too. Your dress is your something new. Now you’re ready.”
I grinned at them and headed down the aisle.
57
Tommy
The ceremony was short, and it flew by so quickly that it was over in the blink of an eye. I wished I could have slowed it down to savor it more, but of course that wasn’t possible. Before I knew it, I was legally married. It felt incredible.
The look in Cindy’s eyes as she agreed to be my wife filled me with a feeling that I couldn’t even describe. I’d never thought I’d get married. I thought I was happy being alone. But the last few weeks had entirely turned my life upside down, and now there was nothing that made me happier than pledging my undying love and fealty to the petite, grinning blonde in front of me. I was a very lucky man.
And if that luck bore out, I would receive the world’s best wedding gift this evening. The gift of freedom from my step-in-laws.
By mutual agreement, the ceremony was filmed in the normal way by Meg’s camera crew. There were no confessionals. No interruptions. No long-winded monologues. No staged interactions. Meg had all kinds of ideas to make the ceremony much more dramatic, but I refused all of them. That was what the reception was for.
Auctioned to the A-Lister Page 22