30. Cherise
Chapter thirty
Cherise
“Where is my veil?”
“That is a great question, and I would also like to know the answer to that question,” I said, practically throwing clothes out of Grace’s bag in search of this damn veil.
The bridal suite was chaos.
Full-blown, no survivors, wedding day chaos.
Hair tools everywhere. Makeup spread across every flat surface. Someone’s curling iron hissing like it was seconds away from catching on fire.
The wedding planner, Rebecca, paced with her clipboard as if she was going to pass out.
Amateur.
And Grace?
Grace was sitting in the middle of it all frozen. Eyes wide. Hands clasped in her lap. Looking like she was about two seconds away from either crying or running.
“Nope,” I said, pointing at her as I snatched a rogue bra off the floor. “We are not doing that.”
She frowned. “Doing what?”
“That,” I said, waving my hand at her face. “The spiral. We are not spiraling today.”
“I’m not spiraling,” she said quickly in a nervous squeaky voice.
“You’re absolutely spiraling.”
“I’m...calmly panicking.”
“That’s just politely spiraling. Like spiraling with manners.”
Chelsea snorted from across the room, half-dressed, one lash on, the other still sitting on the counter.
“Where is my other heel?” Chelsea yelled.
“Check your bag!” Layla called back.
“I did!”
“Well, check harder!” I demanded.
I turned back to Grace, crouching in front of her.
“Hey,” I said, softer now. “Look at me.”
She did.
“Breathe.”
She took a shaky inhale.
“Again.”
Another one.
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Good. You’re getting married today. Not being executed. We’re going to act accordingly.”
That got a small laugh out of her.
There she is.
“Everything is handled,” I added, even though nothing felt handled. “You just sit there, look pretty, and let us do the rest.”
Rebecca rushed past us, muttering about a missing boutonniere and a vendor being late.
“Handled,” I repeated, louder with a smile.
Grace grabbed my hand. “Cherise… what if something goes wrong?”
“Something will absolutely go wrong,” I said easily. “That’s a guarantee.”
Her eyes widened.
I squeezed her hand. “And we’re going to fix it when it does. That’s what I’m here for.”
Her shoulders dropped a little.
“That’s what we’re all here for,” Tessa added, finally finding Chelsea’s missing shoe… in the fridge.
Don’t ask.
Chelsea grabbed it. “Don’t judge me. It made sense at the time.”
“Nothing you do makes sense,” I said.
“Yet here I am, thriving.”
I stood, scanning the room.
“Okay! Has the veil been located?” I called out.
A voice from the bathroom. “Found it!”
It was Grace’s mom.
“Where was it?”
“You don’t want to know.”
She was right, I didn’t.
I moved back toward Grace just as the makeup artist finished blending her final look.
“Okay,” she said, stepping back. “Take a look.”
Grace turned toward the mirror and went still.
“Aww, look at my bestie,” I said, watching her.
Her eyes filled.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
I beamed. “You look beautiful,” I said, leaning on the counter behind her.
“No,” Chelsea added, walking up beside us. “You look stupidly gorgeous. It’s actually offensive.”
Layla nodded. “It’s rude, honestly. We are going to look like ogres standing next to you.”
Grace laughed, wiping at the corner of her eye carefully so she didn’t mess anything up.
Grace’s mom was full-on crying at this point, dabbing her face with a tissue.
“It doesn’t feel real,” Grace admitted.
“Oh, it’s real, boo. My bestie is about to be a whole wife!” I hugged her from behind and watched her in the mirror a second longer.
Happy and calm. Exactly how she should feel today.
Good.
That’s all that mattered, because if I did my job right, she wouldn’t feel any of the chaos happening around her.
I walked over to check the time on Chelsea’s phone, and my thoughts went straight to Leo. What were they doing in the groom's suite? Was it as chaotic over there as it was here? What does he look like in the suit I picked out? How is he going to react when he sees me?
I shut that down immediately.
Not today.
Today wasn’t about Leo or me.
“Okay!” I clapped my hands once. “Let’s get these robes on and take some photos before something else catches on fire.”
Grace laughed as we helped her stand, slipping her into the silk robe with her new credentials stitched across the back.
Mrs. Fox.
The room stilled for just a second.
Just long enough for it all to sink in.
Then—
“Wait!” Rebecca shouted. “Where are the bouquets?!”
Just like that…
Chaos resumed.