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But a good mess in a way because now Alfie is in jail, Ezra will likely follow any second, and we’ve got a clean slate at Monroe Securities. The board can hire a new CEO and a new COO, and we can rebuild the company into the premier cybersecurity force in the industry, led by honorable men and women instead of blood-thirsty, money-hungry fucktwats who don’t deserve any designation beyond that.
I told Lenox I’d love for him to be our new CEO, and he laughed. Loudly. I took that as his firm no.
Who cares? I’m standing in an Aurelia—Lia Sage since that’s her designer and model name—gown as she pins fabric and points to where she’s going to add a million sparkles just for me. A Cinderella dress so I can feel like a princess as I marry my anti-Prince Charming.
I love her. Have I mentioned that? She is my people. So are Fallon, Layla, and Wynter, who hung out with me all day here and drank champagne and pilfered through the Monroe and Lia Sage design closets and picked out what they wanted to wear to my wedding.
A wedding I am, for once, beyond excited for.
“Do you ever take that earpiece out of your ear?” Aurelia gripes at me. “I’ve been saying your name for like five minutes.”
“Sorry.” I wince. “I’m still listening in on the board meeting. They won’t stop.”
“That’s good though,” Fallon comments as she moves to sit sideways on the hair and makeup chair, her legs now kicked sideways over the arm. “It shows they care. My parents are all about boards, and they don’t give two fucks. Theirs are all about appearances.”
“How much champagne have you had?” Layla snorts.
Fallon holds up her glass, spilling some on the cement floor in the process. “I think this is my third glass.”
“You’re officially cut off,” Wynter tells her, only to start cackling as she twirls around and around in her own makeup chair since this is where the dress platform is located in Aurelia’s design studio. “But this is my fourth, so maybe I’m cut off too.”
“You’re all cut off.”
Fallon snorts at Layla. “Oh please. You’re a twenty-three-year-old Fritz. You know exactly what we’re talking about, and I’d bet you could drink us all under the table.”
“I’m also twenty-three,” Aurelia points out.
“Christ, you’re young. Why do you not seem that young?”
Aurelia lifts her eyes to mine. “Because I’ve been living my best life on my own since I was sixteen, so my age is in dog years.”
“Same,” all the women say in unison, and I realize I’m not the only one here who has an extraordinary and strange life. Not to mention the men we’re all with. They’re a lot in their own right.
“Ugh. Hold on.” I unmute the call. “Yes, Charles. I agree with that point. But I think the statement is solid, and more is just unnecessary. Short, sweet, to the point.” I mute the call again. “I miss delivering babies.”
“Soon enough. You know, we could open our own practice. One where we serve emergent orthopedic pregnant women.”
All of us turn to Layla.
“It sounded better in my head,” she mumbles. “Pretend I didn’t say that. Clearly, champagne goes straight to my head.”
“Okay, you’re done,” Aurelia tells me. “I’ll finish this up Friday morning, and it’ll be perfect for that evening. Eeep!” she squeals, her exuberance overtaking her features. “I’m so excited. Lenox! You’re marrying Lenox.”
“You got engaged first. Like over a year ago,” Fallon quips dryly at Aurelia. “Don’t you think it’s time you and Zax tie the knot?”
Aurelia stands and undoes the gown in the back and helps me out of it. It’s a lot of dress for not a lot of wedding, but who cares?
“Um, did we not just establish that I’m only twenty-three?”
“I thought we just established you’re like a hundred and two in dog years,” I remind her.
“Technically, a hundred and sixty-one since each dog year is seven of ours. But I only count that when it’s convenient for me.”
“Crap.” I unmute. “Sounds great. Thanks, everyone. We’ll reconvene after the statement goes live. Go enjoy your evenings. The hard part is over.” I hit end on the call. Finally.
I step out of the gown and then throw back on my bra, leggings, and cropped sweater I wore here. Sitting down, I slip back into my Louboutin Vidura Spike booties.
“You need something super sexy for under that,” Layla throws out. “I mean, you’ve got great tits and all, but it’s your wedding. You need lingerie.”
