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“You remember how I said I’m not officially Evander’s wife?” I give her a tight smile. “Well, that’s changing tonight.”
“That’s amazing,” she says with real warmth. “That’s a good thing, right? You want this?”
“I do, but it’s also terrifying.”
“Getting married is scary when it’s a normal guy, but you’re getting married to Evander Kazan. That makes it, like, a hundred times more intense. Are you having a wedding?”
“Just a small thing at the house with his mother and his best friend.”
“Simple. Classy. I like it.”
“Apparently, we’ll have to do an actual party or something for all the people in his, uh, organization, but he wants to keep the official signing small.”
“Signing? You make it sound so impersonal.”
It is impersonal, I want to tell her, but I only smile. “It’s what he wants.”
“That makes sense. But what doyouwant?”
She gives me a long look, and I genuinely don’t know how to answer.
My wedding to Christopher was big, loud, and exciting. We rented out this enormous church, did the ceremony there, and had the party next door in the rec hall. Most of the made guys from the Pavone Famiglia were there, and the night was crazy, one of those nights I’ll never forget, and I don’t remember ever liking Christopher as much as I did when we danced together. Probably because everything went downhill pretty fast after the marriage was official and he felt like he could stop pretending to be a decent human.
But what do I want with Evander? For a marriage that’s not even real? There’s a part of me that craves the ceremony, the reception, the white dress, all that stuff. I want to see the Kazan family come out and get to know the captains and soldiers.
Even though none of it matters, because I won’t be around long enough for them to care about me.
I want to feel special in a way that runs contrary to the cold, businesslike way we’ve managed our relationship so far. I know it’s unrealistic—I’m marrying Evander because he can provide me safety, not because we love each other—but the idea of standing up at the altar with him, pressing my lips against his, and sayingI doin front of a crowd—the idea’s more than a little appealing.
“Honestly, it doesn’t matter what I want,” I admit to her.
She snorts. “Typical Greek macho bullshit.”
“It’s true though. Evander knows his family better than me, and if he says we need to keep it small—”
“He’s your man,” she says fiercely. “If he cared about you at all, he’d take your wishes into account.”
A flood of happiness runs through me. I love that Phel’s being protective of me right now, and I suddenly realize that I have a friend, a real friend, not just some work colleague but a girl that cares whether I’m happy or not.
I haven’t had that in a long time and tears suddenly spring into my eyes.
“Shit, what did I say?” She comes around the counter, waving her hands, looking panicked. “Camille, what did I do?”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, laughing and wiping my eyes. “I’m just emotional and on edge, that’s all, it’s totally fine.”
She groans. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make this harder for you. I’m sure whatever you do with Evander will be perfect, because you’ll end up married to the man you love. Right?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “Right.”
But if she can see through my lies, she hides it well.
“Here, let me get you some coffee. You go take a break. Sit out back, get some fresh air, come back in when you’re ready. Okay?”
I hesitate, but nod, feeling grateful. I shouldn’t accept her offer, since I suspect she wouldn’t make a similar one to a normal employee, but right now I’m willing to enjoy the perks of being the lord’s future wife.
Chapter29
Camille
