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The door of the side entrance is around the corner of the hall , and as I reach it, I hear two male voices. Normally, I wouldn’t stop, but the words ‘bad idea’ force me to halt.
I stand still, their voices reaching me clear as day.
One of the men, who has a nasally voice, grumbles, sounding a little worried, “I don’t think this is such a good idea, Erik. All the guests are here. Your whole family is here.”
The other man, whom I presume is Erik, growls, “Well, I don’t have any other choice, do I? I’m not going through with this fucking charade. Besides, this was Madison’s idea. I didn’t know she would take it this far.”
The other man tries to change his mind.
“This will ruin her. Look, just go and tell her now. At least save her the embarrassment!”
Erik doesn’t seem to be in any mood to listen.
“Fo
r fuck’s sake, Jason. You’re acting as if she means something to you. Just stick with the fucking plan.”
I hear the footsteps move in the other direction, while I remain still in my position.
What was that?
I glance towards the ajar door I’d just left behind me.
It can’t be –
My calculating mind is racing with the possibilities, trying to decipher the conversation. The name Erik sounds very familiar, and I frown.
Shaking my head, I move forward, hoping this is just some random discussion between friends. However, a niggling doubt remains at the back of my head.
Agatha looks beautiful. And very angry, as she stands next to what is my designated seat, her silver-clad toe tapping impatiently on the carpeted ground.
Her delicate blonde hair is swept up in some complicated hair style, and I can make no sense of her earrings except that they look like something shiny that I would usually buy for the women who waltz through my life.
She looks very pretty, though, and I lean over and plant a kiss on her cheek.
“Sorry. Traffic was hell.”
Her pink lips part in an annoyed smile.
“Yeah? Funny how Mr. Anderson managed to arrive before you, even though he left fifteen minutes after you and his office is ten kilometers further away than yours, Philip.” I just smile at her, and she shakes her head, sighing. “Just sit down. I have to go and see Charlotte.” As she is leaving, she glances over her shoulder and her blue eyes gleam at me. “Nice tux, big brother.”
I take a look around the room, and realize that aside from the few men that I perceive to be the groomsmen, everybody else is following a black-tie dress code.
I roll my eyes. My sister sucks at pranks.
As I settle into my seat, I wish I wasn’t seated in the third aisle, which is going to have a very good view of the bride and groom. With nothing else to do, I start studying the people in the room.
There is nobody from Charlotte’s side of the family, which isn’t surprising. I heard her stepfather disappeared a few years back, and her mother passed away when she was young. Grams would have come, but she is by my father’s side in Germany as he recovers from a skiing accident.
I would have thought that by now she would have realized that her son and daughter-in-law are always going to be wild and reckless. From what Agatha told me, our paternal grandmother is pretty upset that she is missing Charlotte’s big moment.
Yet, I see that my sister made sure that the bride’s side is full of people I don’t recognize. I assume they are Charlotte’s colleagues or something.
My gaze moves over the groomsmen, and I watch with brows knitted when I sense the tension in the room. Their shoulders are stiff, and I watch the groom arrive and stand in his place.
He seems familiar. What is his name? I know Agatha told me, but I can’t recall it.
He looks jittery and excitable, his eyes constantly moving to the second row, where a brunette woman sits. I am not able see her face from here, but I sense that her eyes are focused on the groom. I wonder how she is related to this man.
