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“Fuck no, my taste is shit,” Tempest grins. “Luckily my sister-in-law’s is better.”
Denise smiles awkwardly, eying Tempest’s goth-vibe black fishnets. “Well, that’s one of the newest designs from Vera Wang.”
Tempest nods slowly. “It’s gorgeous. Would you give us a minute?”
“Of course, ladies,” Denise smiles, waltzing away to talk to Taylor who’s looking at veils for some reason.
“My brother’s paying for this, right?” Tempest mutters out the corner of her mouth.
“Damn right,” I grin back, pulling the corporate black Amex card out of my bag and waving it.
“Good, because this fucker costs as much as a new compact car.”
Jesus.
“Hey, if you have to marry my brother, do it looking like a fucking queen, right?”
It’s fortunate that pretty much everyone in the inner circle is aware of the nature of this wedding and my “relationship” with Gabriel: his siblings and their spouses, Eloise, Bianca, Taylor. It’s not like I have to lie and dance around the issue, thank God.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
“I think you have to get this one,” Tempest nods.
“I’d just better make sure his royal highness approves,” I mutter dryly.
Tempest snorts. “Dude, I can’t even imagine. The obsessive-compulsive king of control issues.” She grins at me. “Did you know he used to iron his fucking underwear when he was in high school? Facts.”
I choke back a laugh as she shakes her head. “You might be marrying an actual psychopath, just a heads up.”
I wipe away tears of laughter as I grin at her. “Thanks for the warning.”
She exhales, her brow furrowing slightly. “He gave you shit about the green at the campaign announcement, didn’t he?”
I stare at her in shock. “How did you know?”
She rolls her eyes. “A, it’s Gabriel. And B, because it’s green, on a day like that.”
My brows furrow. “I don’t follow.”
Tempest sucks on her teeth. “Oh. Okay. I don’t know if he mentioned this, but back in the day, our dad had this idea about being Governor.”
“Uh, nope, I don’t think he did.” Shit. That would have been super helpful to know before I signed away four years of my life minimum.
Tempest wrinkles her nose. “Oof, sorry. That probably explains a bit, huh?” She shrugs. “I mean, he didn’t actually run for Governor. But he did run for an alderman position. Back then, I guess you had to work your way up to something like governor. Anyway, he and our mom were on the campaign trail when they got hit by that drunk driver.”
My heart twists as I reach out a hand to lay it on her shoulder.
“My mom died in a car crash, too,” I say quietly.
“Shit,” Tempest’s mouth twists as she takes my hand and squeezes it. “So, you get it.”
“I do…yeah.”
“Well, after they died, the Times ran this gushy piece about what a champion of the people dad had been, and they used a photo they’d taken of him at his campaign announcement.”
Fuck.
“Green?” I mumble quietly.
