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“Oh, he knows,” she replied, taking another sip of coffee. “So, will you be there? Having you in the room with us would be a treat.”
“Of course,” I said, smiling. “Just let me know how much I owe you for the hair.”
“Dai allore,” Sloane said.
Nadia waved her hand. “Don’t be silly. You’re family; it’ll be our treat.”
“Well,” a smooth, polished voice came from the door, “that’s not entirely true. Is it, dear?”
The coffee in my cup, which had just been steaming hot, might as well have iced over. I shut my eyes and counted to five in my mind before turning toward the door to face Heidi, who was already dressed to the nines in a pink Chanel tweed suit.
“She’s more family than I am, Heidi,” Nadia said, turning to her future mother-in-law with a smile and pulling her long brown hair up into a ponytail. “After all, she’s the one with a wedding ring on her finger.”
“For the time being, at least,” Heidi said, walking over to where the electric kettle sat on the sideboard and hitting the switch.
We all looked at each other, silent, as the weight of her words settled in. A strange mix of emotions swirled inside me at what she said. I was getting pretty sick of being at the receiving end of her shitty remarks, but I was also a bit sad at the thought that she wasn’t wrong.
“I’m only joking,” Heidi said, her voice taking on that strange musical quality that English voices sometimes did when they got to a higher pitch. “Gosh, don’t be so serious, all of you. And you’ll forgive me if I’m not there, Nadia. I simply can’t trust anyone but Bianca with my hair.”
“Fine,” Nadia said, perfectly unbothered as she sipped her coffee. “As long as you’re here in the afternoon for photos.”
“Of course,” she said, breezing out of the room, taking the cool chill she brought into the room with her.
God only knew what this woman was trying to do. Or maybe the whole point was to get us wondering if she was up to something. I learned a long time ago that allowing people like her to take up space in my head gave them power, and I absolutely was not going to give her that.
I was going to focus on this wedding ahead of us, be Spencer’s fake wife, and that was it. At least, I thought that was it. Just the thought of being in Spencer’s life for real—having to deal with his soul-sucker of a mother for real—was enough to make me take a stutter step.
One thing I always did well was to defend myself against sharks, and although I was prepared to continue doing so, I was well aware that I was letting the woman get to me more than I should’ve. I was strong and always in control, but Heidi had a darkness that I was beginning to think I might not be a match for.
* * *
I sat through the incredibly beautiful wedding ceremony, emotionally charged and wondering what the fuck was happening to me. I thought I had a grip, but my emotions convinced me I was sorely mistaken. And it scared the shit out of me.
I watched as the priest gestured between Nadia and Stephen, officiating the ceremony in beautiful, fluid Italian. And even though I could only understand one word out of seven, the emotion of the ceremony came through in spades.
Suddenly, the priest raised his hands, gesturing widely before stepping back, and Stephen stepped forward, pulling Nadia into an embrace that practically folded her in two as he pressed his lips to hers.
The love between them was obvious—and contagious. I clapped along with the rest of the guests, as few of them as there were. We all stood, watching as the oldest Monroe led his new wife along the aisle with a glowing look on his face, thrilled beyond belief with his luck. Halfway down, he stopped and picked her up, spinning her around into another passionate kiss. I was so busy watching the two of them that I barely noticed when Spencer caught hold of my hand, threading his fingers with mine as he led me down the aisle, following Nadia and Stephen.
The rest of the day passed in a blur as we gathered for photos, and the staff brought in for the day flitted around the grounds with trays of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. I met Nadia’s mother, who was as filled with beautiful elegance as her daughter, and a few other Monroe—D’Arrazzio family members, who’d come from all over Europe for the occasion.
Comparatively, it was a small wedding, having been capped at forty-five people, but that didn’t take away from the obvious happiness that radiated through the event. Not even Heidi’s presence was enough to dampen the joy that permeated the atmosphere.
After the appetizer hour in the rose garden, we were led back to the ceremony site, where a dance floor had been put out, and small twinkle lights had been draped throughout the floral trees.
“You know,” Spencer said beside me as everyone began to gather on the floor, “with so few guests, I believe all the women should gather on the floor for the bouquet toss. Not just the unmarried ones.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on my bare shoulder.
Strapless dresses always came in handy when I needed them, and this dress served that purpose with tender sentiments like Spence had just done.
I met his smirk with one of my own. “Well,” I said, reaching over to caress his cheek, “aren’t you really pushing this little relationship of ours.”
“Striking while the iron is hot, gorgeous. That’s all.”
Damn, his smile, dark eyes, and the shadow defining his sharp jawline was doing more things to me than were appropriate for a small family wedding reception.
I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. The man was my fake husband right now, and I needed to play that part up more than I had today. At least, that’s what I told myself as I leaned over to kiss him, but I didn’t get the chance to linger there before I felt a tugging at my hand.
“Zia, come on,” Becca said, pulling eagerly at me. “Nadia said we all have to go to catch the bouquet.”
