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“Hey.”
Since her first contact with Winnie the woman had never been anything but bubbly and sweet. Now she looked and sounded sullen. She was leaning against the wall, ankles crossed.
“Are you excited for Saturday?”
Winnie took a hit off her cigarette. “Cut the crap, Leighton. I know you’re getting married Saturday too. And thanks to you, no one has the time of day for me. I might as well have eloped. Everyone all over town is talking about you and Axl and how it was love at first sight.”
The venom in Winnie’s voice shocked her. First June had been sulky, now Winnie was angry. It wasn’t often that Leighton drew the ire of other women. She wasn’t someone who had ever inspired jealousy, at least not in Beverly Hills. “I’m sorry, Winnie. I didn’t think that it would cause any issues for you.” That wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t really given much thought to Winnie at all. She had been worried about saving her own ass.
Winnie shrugged. “It’s whatever. I guess it’s my fault. I applied to the show without talking to Todd and he never wanted to do it. I’m just sorry that I won in the first place. And sorry that you thought it was okay to steal my special day.”
With that, as Leighton stood with her mouth wide open, Winnie tossed her cigarette on the ground, stomped on it, and kicked open the door to her shop.
Leighton stood there, feeling as kicked as that door.
If she was in love with Axl, she wouldn’t feel guilty. Winnie was right. She shouldn’t have applied to be on the show without her fiancé’s approval or knowledge. But because this wasn’t a real marriage and was just the two of them trying to save their own respective butts, she did feel a twinge of something that felt a lot like guilt.
It would suck to be the bride who had a wedding on the same day as a whole town was buzzing about a TV wedding. Especially since it involved one of their own men in blue.
Not wanting Winnie to come back out and drive her point home harder, Leighton unlocked her rental and climbed in. She needed to regroup, put it behind her, and go meet the tent guy. Yet she had a pit in her stomach and a telltale scratchy throat that indicated anxiety. God, she hated that sensation. Feeling like she couldn’t breathe, she hit the button to send the window down and sucked in some fresh air.
Her phone buzzed with a text notification.
Axl.
You okay?
How did he always know when she was vulnerable?
It was like he had a sixth sense.
Dress shopping was a failure. I’m going to have to have my mother send me something.
In three days?
My mother will have it to me by tomorrow.
Axl’s face popped up on her screen. He was actually calling her.
“Hello?”
“What else it wrong? You don’t sound right.”
Now how in the hell did he know she didn’t “sound right” in a text message? The man was psychic.
Either that or they had a legitimate connection.
Which she was starting to think they did.
“I ran into Winnie Schwartz and she said I stole her wedding day.”
There was a pause. “But didn’t her fiancé cancel their appearance on the show?”
“Yes.”
“Then she should be pissed at him, not you. Or hell, maybe not pissed at all. What’s the big deal? It’s not like we have the same guest list and they chose us over them.”
Men didn’t get it. They didn’t understand that a wedding day was life to a woman. That she waited since childhood to be the star of the show for approximately twelve hours. To know that while your wedding was going on, another woman was having a splashy wedding for TV across town would be upsetting. She totally understood that.
