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And that’s all, I tell myself. I mean it too. I don’t think I can get over what he did to me. How he brought me back to the worst day of my life.
“Fine. But if he was. If you were trying to date? It would suck. But I’d understand and be okay with it.”
“Samira,” Mom’s voice comes from the hall. She slides into the room, and I offer her a smile. “Honey, we need to get going. What are you still doing in bed?”
I groan, tucking my head into the crook of Em’s neck. “I quit.”
“You can’t quit,” Em laughs. “It’s your business. And I like having food on the table. So, get up and get to it.”
Mom draws back the blankets and grabs my arms. “Let’s go. Shower, fast, before this cake melts.”
“Whoa, you’re gorgeous.”
Vee stands behind Saoirse, mouth a gape as she stares at her in the floor to ceiling length mirror. And she’s right. The mermaid cut on Saoirse makes her look like a princess.
“Fucking hot,” Haley agrees.
I offer a grin, then drape her veil over her face. “The most beautiful bride in Boston,” I say.
“Scotty is in place,” Vee tells us. “Five minutes.”
Saoirse nods. “Where’s my dad?”
A throat clears from the entrance, and all of us turn toward the sound. Callum Jr. steps forward. “Da isn’t feeling well. He asked if I’d do the honors of walking you down the aisle.”
Saoirse snaps her attention to me, tears threatening to spill out, and my heart breaks for her. Not having your father give you away on your special day is something no one should have to deal with. Luckily, the day has gone smoothly. No hiccups, so I’ll take this minor one. I can fix this easily.
“Where is Senior sitting?” I ask, turning to Callum. “End seat?”
My heart pounds, a rhythmic swooshing happening in my head. It causes my ears to sting with the sudden blood rush, and I stand straighter. I’ve never met him. But I’ve heard of him. Callum Murphy Jr. was a few years ahead of Ian and me at Harvard. There’d been rumors of him I never thought to believe.
People talk and exaggerate, but now, seeing him here before me, covered in tattoos and a dark gleam in his green eyes, I believe them. Whispers of Callum’s family being tied to organized crime. I always chalked them up to families like Ian’s just pissed off that the Murphy’s could climb the social ladder.
Declan is broody, but I’d never think of him as a criminal. He made me feel safe from the moment we met in the club. But Callum gives me a sense of danger, and I wonder how much of what I’ve heard is true.
He nods. “Da is in the front row,” he says in an Irish brogue.
“Okay.” I suck in a breath. “Saoirse, honey. What if your brother walks you down the aisle? Then we get your father up and standing to give you away?”
“Declan can help stand,” Callum offers, glancing at Haley.
Saoirse’s bottom lip quivers. “But. . . what about my father-daughter dance?”
I don’t miss a beat, offering a solution just as quickly as she’s asking it. “We’ll tap them out. It’ll be a father-daughter-brother dance. Get him up there for pictures and a quick twirl, then give each brother a chance. Most of those dances end with an uncle or grandfather cutting in any way.”
“Okay. Fine.” She pulls me into a hug. “Thank you, Sammy.”
“Of course,” I say, rubbing her back. “Let’s get you married.”
“Yeah,” she says through a sniffle.
“All right. Bridal party. Head on out through the left side,” I say. “Vee, get the music started.”
Vee, Haley and the rest of the party slide out of the room until I’m left with only Callum and Saoirse. Callum holds out his arm and together they slide out of the room, down the hall and into the grand ballroom.
I follow behind them, and when we get to the doors, hand Saoirse her bouquet. “You’ve got this,” I whisper, flashing her a wink. The organist starts up the song, and the grand doors slide open. Then, Callum leads his sister down the aisle, toward a smiling Scotty.
Butterflies settle in my stomach as I watch him watch his bride, a tear falling from his cheek. This is usually my favorite part of a wedding. Seeing the bride through the eyes of the groom. Except this time, I can’t shake the gnawing feeling that I’m being watched. And when my eyes land on the culprit, I have to refrain from flipping him the bird. Classy Samira is in place today. I’ve got a business reputation to uphold, and scowling at the bride’s brother while cursing him out with hand gestures would be bad for business. Instead, I tear my gaze from him. He won’t get any of my attention today.
