The Final Hour

by London Miller

  “Your family wanted you to try this one,” Mariah said coming into the room, a garment bag over her shoulder.

  As she helped her put it on, Lauren knew this one was different from all the others.

  This time, when she walked out, Lauren couldn’t contain her smile, and seeing her excitement, the others brightened up as they exclaimed.

  “I love this one,” Lauren said happily, going to stand in front of the mirrors.

  No matter if she were wearing one of the ugliest dresses on the planet, no one could tell her that with the way she smiled.

  This was the dress.

  The under layer was made of satin, and another layer of lace on top. It had a sweetheart neckline that dipped low in the front, but the lace overlay still covered her chest, sweeping around to the back where there was a long line of pearl buttons from the nape of her neck, down to the small of her back.

  “This one is amazing,” Alex agreed, snapping a photo with her phone.

  “It seems we’ve agreed on this one,” Mariah said with a smile, clasping her hands in front of her.

  Before Lauren could agree, Susan came over, wanting to look over the dress, wanting to make sure she could make the necessary changes in the time she had left.

  “You have to stand still, Lauren. You know how this goes.”

  She did know, after years of seeing Susan do this to countless brides, but that didn’t make it any easier. Standing there as her mom poked and prodded her was exhausting, but Susan was determined to make sure the dress was perfect, even if it meant Lauren had to endure the torture of standing there.

  Once she was done, Lauren knew that this was it when she saw the tears forming in her mother’s eyes.

  “Cameron would have loved to see you in this dress,” Susan said dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

  If Lauren wasn’t crying before, she was crying now, but they were happy tears because in her heart, she knew he would have been happy too.

  Once they were back—and Mishca was surprisingly not busy working on the opening for his new club—they were all gathered around in the living room, looking at invitation mock-ups that Alex had put together.

  “Why do we need wedding invitations?” Lauren asked as she flipped through the sample book, then up to Alex. “We already know who’s coming.”

  “But we don’t. We have no idea who has kids, or if they’re coming from Russia, not to mention people that need to RSVP their dates.”

  “What about this one?” Lauren asked as she picked up one of the cards, holding it out for Mishca to take a look at, waiting to see his reaction to it before she voiced her opinion.

  He stared at it for a while, blinked, then stared at it some more. Finally, he said,“It’s pink.”

  That was it. That was all he said.

  “To go with the cherry blossoms,” Lauren explained, pointing them out in the book where hundreds of different flowers were present.

  He tried to hide it, but his distaste was clear. “But it’s pink everywhere.”

  Trying to hide her smile, she took the card back from him, placing it on the desk. “If you don’t like it, just say that.”

  “Okay.” He clapped his hands together, sitting back against the couch and closing his eyes. “I don’t like it.”

  With the way he was acting, it almost felt like he had been doing all the work when this was the first thing he had been involved in when it came to the wedding planning.

  “You never like anything I make!” Alex exploded, coming around from her position on the floor where she had also been waiting for his answer.

  Mishca shook his head. “You’re being a little dramatic, no?”

  “What color would you prefer? Gray? Black?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps something darker.”

  If Mishca wasn’t careful, Alex just might strangle him for not taking this seriously.

  “But that’s so boring. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life, and you’re trying to make it dark and depressing. Like you do.”

  “Ask Lauren if she likes it,” he said, immediately looking over at her, knowing that the only reason she had shown it to him was because she hadn’t wanted to hurt his sister’s feelings.

  Alex blinked over at her, smiling sweetly, and for just that look, Lauren wanted to tell her that she did like the design, but she had never been a really good liar, and it was her wedding.

  “Maybe a touch less pink?” She asked by way of compromise, not wanting to dismiss the color entirely.

  “Fine, I’ll use this for my own. What do you want then? Something black like Mishca’s heart?”

  While he appeared wounded, his hand covering his heart, he didn’t bother commenting.

  “Cherry blossoms would be cool if you could incorporate that into it. Maybe some reds, have the stock paper slightly off-white.”

  “If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you just say so?”

  Alex left in a huff, though Lauren doubted she was really upset now that she had something to work with. This was going to be a long and tiring process.

  Despite their time restraint with the wedding fast approaching, Lauren took a day off, in part because she needed a break from all of Alex’s enthusiasm, and because Mishca had asked her to spend it with him.

  He was still naked in bed, the sheet pooled at his waist, an arm thrown over his eyes to block out the shining morning light.

  “Alex left to pick my mom up from the hotel,” Lauren said as she swept her hair up, pinning it in place. “They’re looking into catering and all that.”

  She’d been up for a few hours, getting ready for when they were to leave, but it didn’t seem like Mishca was in any rush to get moving.

  He grumbled something unintelligible, not sounding too happy that he was being woken up.

  “We should get going,” she urged him, touching his side. “Remember all those errands you said you needed to run?”

  He reached out blindly for her, pulling her down on top of him. “Ten minutes.”

  “Babe, ten minutes is never ten minutes with you.”

  His lips turned up at the corners, but he made no move to get up. She trailed her hand down his chest, lifting up enough that she could wrap her hand around him, his erection growing almost immediately.

  “We could stay here,” Lauren whispered, and she could tell Mishca was amendable to that idea, “but Ross said he wanted to stop by and maybe spend some time with us.”

  She couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh as he grabbed her hand and stopped her movements, his erection wilting.

  “Fine, I’m up.”

  “I thought you would like it here,” Mishca commented as he held the door open to the café where they’d met.

  When they’d first gotten into the car, Mishca had been rather quiet about where they were going, but Lauren didn’t mind, especially not when they had pulled onto this street.

  “And you’re wearing white. This should be fun.”

  Once they had ordered and were seated at the table where they’d had their first conversation, and Mishca began texting away on his blackberry, it was almost laughable how one innocent morning had brought them to this point.

  “Do you think we would be here if I hadn’t made the first move?” Lauren asked innocently, looking over at the giant sign that still had the signature names of the drinks in different colored chalk.

  “If by first move you mean throwing a cup of coffee on me, perhaps not. I don’t think it would have had the same affect if I’d done that to you.”

  True enough.

  He reached for her cup without a second thought and she bit her lip, knowing that he wasn’t going to like it. He preferred his unsweetened with only a touch of creamer.

  Taking a swallow, his entire face scrunched up as he lurched to the side, nearly spitting it back out as he cleared his throat loudly, earning confused stares from the people seated around them.

  “What the hell did you put in this?”<
br />
  She laughed, retrieving her cup. “Don’t knock my drink, Mish.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said earnestly…but his lips twitched. “If it were actually a drink and not liquid sugar.”

  “So, what’s on the agenda for the day?”

  “Clubs. Bank. Surprise.”

  “In that order?”

  He nodded, glancing down at his watch. “Yes. We should get going, don’t want to be late.”

  The first stop was 221 where they picked up the week’s deposits. The renovations had finally been completed and the club was now back to its former glory, maybe even better than it was before.

  Next, they went to Mishca’s newest investment, one that he had kept a secret for reasons she didn’t understand until they arrived. It was a prime piece of real estate, located in one of the hottest spots in New York City. Outside, workers were busy using a crane, hoisting up a giant letter to fit onto the front of the building that would ultimately be the name of the place.

  Just one letter, one that was enough to tell Lauren everything she needed to know about the secret he had been keeping from her.

  L.

  It could have stood for anything, but Lauren was not dense enough to think it wasn’t meant for her.

  “Trying to send a message there, Mish?” Lauren asked as they ventured inside and she saw, for the first time, what he had been working on for months now.

  There wasn’t much inside—they were still a couple of months from opening after all—but from what she could see, there were similar elements to his other club.

  “I thought you would be flattered.”

  “I am, really.” A little taken aback by the gesture, a better description, but she didn’t tell him that. “It’s not a tattoo, of course.” She touched one of the stars on her chest, smiling when he did the same. “But it’ll do.”

  He gave her a tour of the place, introducing her to some of the people that would be working there…mostly girls. She was immediately brought back to a time when she’d wondered about the effect he had on girls, and how they flocked to them, but there was something reassuring about the way he only had eyes for her.

  By the time they left—far later than Mishca had planned—the bank was nearing closing time, but they made an exception for Mishca.

  Lauren was used to him getting five-star treatment wherever they went, and had stopped getting surprised by it, but she wasn’t as surprised by the treatment at the workers’ behavior as opposed to surprised at what she found in Mishca’s safety deposit box.

  The manager had already taken his leave, giving them the privacy Mishca had asked for. He didn’t seem to notice her watching him as he pulled out stacks of bills from the large blue bag, placing them in the vault where more money was stacked.

  Noticing her standing to the side observing him, he gave a half-smile, turning back to what he was doing. “No need to look so surprised, Lauren. This will be yours soon enough.”

  “How much do you keep in there?”

  Closing the vault back, he pocketed the key, reaching for her hand as he led them out. “A little less than twenty.”

  “Twenty…”She trailed off, thinking over the number before her eyes widened, “Million?”

  He smiled, unabashed. “Like me better now?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Ah, is that why you agreed to this then?” He asked outlining one of the stars.

  “Please. I would have agreed to this a lot sooner if you’d bought me Sam Smith concert tickets. I’m easy, Mish.”

  “Of course.”

  They were interrupted by Mishca’s phone chiming, his tone shifting to business mode as he answered. Lauren tuned him out, her thoughts going back to the wedding.

  It just felt so odd to her, planning for everything without actually having a venue first. It seemed like that should have been at the top of the list, because if they couldn’t find a place to have the ceremony, everything else couldn’t go on, but she couldn’t think of a good enough location that she thought was appropriate.

  Neither of them were particularly religious, and she didn’t think it right to have their wedding at a church, not with their multitude of sins. Any place else would probably have needed to be booked months in advance, which only made her life more difficult.

  They were just crossing the street when Lauren noticed it.

  The architecture of the building was what had caught her attention—Amber instilling in her an appreciation for good aesthetics—and as she dragged her gaze up the entirety of it, she saw just a hint of people moving around on the roof, beautiful foliage peeking out over the edge.

  A rooftop wedding.

  The thought had never crossed her mind before. She was thinking ballroom or something grand like that, but on a modest sized rooftop, it could be more intimate, just what she wanted.

  Clasping Mishca’s hand—she’d been dragging him along anyway since he was hardly paying attention—they crossed the street, going through the revolving doors of the hotel.

  Leaving him to his conversation, Lauren went over to the front desk, smiling at the attendant standing there. He was a man in his late fifties, with snowy white hair, who looked like he might’ve worked at the hotel since it opened.

  “Welcome to The Grand Berlin, how may I assist you?”

  “Do you all hold weddings here?”

  If not for just the rooftop, they could definitely have them in the lobby alone. It was designed with royalty in mind, at least that was what Lauren assumed. Soft shades of peach and butter yellow, as well as bolder colors like burgundy and midnight blue adorned the surfaces of most of the furniture in the room. Gold gilded pillars stood tall, elegant fixtures hung along the walls.

  “Yes m’am. We are proud to host many events in either of our ballrooms, as well as—upon special request—access to our rooftop gardens.”

  “What would be the best time to tour those gardens?”

  He went over to the desktop set up on the other side of the desk, patiently typing. It took a minute, and by the time he was finished, Mishca was done with his call, and joined her.

  “We have an opening next week? Is that agreeable?”

  Lauren gave her name and got the time they would be available to do the tour. She and Mishca did return a week later, with Alex in tow, still carrying her checklist of what she would need from them for her to agree to this place.

  The resident manager, Abigail, led them up to the roof, reciting the history of the hotel as they went. She was mostly speaking all of this to Alex, since she had figured that she would need to win over Alex to make the sell.

  Abigail smiled, one hand on the door as she turned to them with a smile. “Are you ready?”

  Not waiting for their answers, she swung the door open, sunlight momentarily blinding Lauren as she took a step forward to see more clearly, and what she did see, she absolutely loved.

  While it had certainly been cleared out from the last time they had been there and Lauren had only caught a glimpse of people up here, she could see what it could be, how different it would look with the chairs set up, the runner going down the middle of the aisle, the podium at the end.

  Even better, there were cherry blossom trees on either end.

  She nodded before anyone else could voice their opinion. “I’m sold.”

  “Excellent. Our next opening isn’t until six months from now, but—”

  That was when Mishca spoke up. “We need it next week.”

  “I’m sorry, but we just don’t have the time to prepare, and—”

  He sighed, like he was used to this kind of response. “Whatever number your putting together in your head, done. Just write it up, yes?”

  “I’ll get started on the paperwork.”

  She walked past him, leaving them to look around more as they waited for her to return.

  “Money makes the world go round,” Lauren said with a shake of her head.

  Not even twenty minutes later, Abigail retu
rned with a contract for them to sign, and a request for a nonrefundable deposit.

  One step closer.

  “I think your sister is more excited about this than all of us combined,” Lauren commented after they had dropped Alex off at home, Mishca telling her they needed to make one more stop.

  “Probably because she assumes she’ll be getting this apartment.”

  Lauren frowned, not understanding. “Why would she think she’s getting your apartment?”

  But he didn’t answer.

  They drove to an older style building, with its name written in cursive script on a plaque in gold letters. She glanced over at Mishca, wondering why they were there, but she followed him inside anyway, towards the bank of elevators off the side of the reception desk.

  Mishca stuck a key into the slot next to a button marked with the letter ‘P.’ And when it lit up, they ascended slowly, classical music playing through the speakers softly.

  “Should I ask or—”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  The doors didn’t open to a hallway, rather into the foyer of the apartment itself. He gestured for her to enter first, following in behind her. She looked around in wonder, sunlight shining through the windows making the already large space seem bigger.

  “This is insane,” Lauren muttered as they entered the penthouse.

  It was like walking into a dream. The apartment, itself, had an open floor plan, much like Mishca’s apartment but almost double the size.

  The dark wood flooring contrasted with the blindingly white walls. Double French doors led into the master bedroom—one of three that were on the first floor—but Lauren wasn’t captivated by the expansive space, or the balcony that overlooked the Manhattan bridge, she had fallen in love with the claw-foot tub in the bathroom. It had its own area, on the opposite side of the sandstone shower that could fit at least six people.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yea, I love it, but what are we doing here?”

  He tucked his hands into his pockets, giving her that charmingly crooked smile. “I thought since you agreed to move in with me—and become my wife—we should get a place of our own.”