Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Iwas going to leave.
Tapping out a quick text to Paige, I let her know that there was a fabricated, reception-related emergency at the hotel that needed my attention and that I would meet her there. Right before I hit send, Millie’s little sister appeared in the vestibule doorway, blocking off my escape route.
Slapping a bland, polite smile on my face, I watched as Millie’s tense-looking little sister minced her way down the aisle on the arm of her husband who had the slightly dazed look of a man who’d just had his ass chewed out.
Dalton’s a decent guy. We talk baseball sometimes when we happen to get dragged to the same social functions.
He’s privileged and has no idea how the real world works but he hates the Yankees and always tips my bartenders well at family events, so he’s tolerable.
When he sees me, he offers me a flat, hey man smile on his way to the altar.
As soon as they’re past me, Paige appears on the arm of some generically handsome guy I imagine is probably one of Allister’s frat brothers from college or someone he used to work with before he landed his job at Blackwell Investments.
When she sees me, Paige gives me a pretty little pout—her way of letting me know she’s still mad at me for turning down her offer of pre-wedding sex in Millie’s suite at the Hawthorne.
I’m at the Hawthorne, all alone… you want to meet me here instead of the church? We can fuck in Millie’s bed before the ceremony.
Right now, I’d rather slam my dick in a car door.
Looking past Paige without acknowledging her, I catch sight of Millie, standing in the doorway of the sanctuary and watch while a bunch of women in black, fitted trousers and color-coordinated blouses work to unhook her train from her dress, half folding, half dragging while they hustle it out of sight.
Staring straight ahead, Millie’s gaze is trained on her cousin, watching her make her way down the aisle with the kind of shell-shocked look you’d see on someone who’s just survived an earthquake or a hurricane.
Or someone who’s thinking about running. Knows that it’s the only way she’s going to make it out alive.
Do it, Mills.
Run.
Fucking run.
No sooner do I think it, does Paige pass in front of me, still trying to get my attention. I ignore her, my gaze trained on the panicking woman behind her.
Like I said it out loud, Millie looks right at me and because I don’t know what else to do, I give her one of my asshole smirks while giving the back of Paige’s head a healthy dose of side-eye.
Want me to trip her?
Her father says something, the look he’s aiming down at his daughter, a mixture of love and concern, tells me he knows something is wrong—even that he might know his eldest daughter is about to make the biggest mistake of her life—but he’s powerless to stop it.
Looking up at him, Millie visibly relaxes and nods her head, a moment before the drill sergeant disguised as a wedding coordinator, signals them to move through the door.
Finding and replanting a bland, polite smile onto my face, I stand.
The other three hundred wedding guests do the same, watching as Millie and her father move down the aisle on slow, measured steps.
When she passes my pew, Millie doesn’t look at me.
The whole of her attention is focused on the nervous-looking man waiting for her at the altar.
Meeting them at the base of the steps, there’s a brief exchange between Allister and Millie’s father before he delivers a kiss to her cheek and relinquishes her to her soon-to-be husband.
Reclaiming my seat, I watch while Allister leads Millie up the trio of steps to the waiting priest like she’s made of glass.
To anyone else, it looks like he’s being careful with her because he loves her.
Wants Millie’s day to be perfect. Wants to make sure he gets every step right, but they don’t see what I see. They don’t know what I know.
Allister isn’t being careful because he loves her. He’s being careful because this is it. He’s in the home stretch. If he can get through the next hour and a half without fumbling the ball, he’s home free.
He’s bagged himself a Blackwell.
I’m sure the prenup the Blackwell’s army of lawyers built is iron clad but Allister is a smart guy—I’m willing to bet there’s some wiggle room in it somewhere. All he needs is for Millie to say I do and he’s set for life.