Stevie
twenty-six
THE DAY OF Celeste and Hunter’s father’s big wedding celebration is finally here.
I had to get up early to get ready: hair, makeup, manicure, pedicure.
It’s very much how I imagine celebrities get their glam done before a big red carpet event. Hunter’s father paid for all of it. Even though I had to be so early, the entire experience is turning out to be pretty fun.
We’ve all been whisked into a large hotel suite and each of us has our own hair stylist, makeup artist, and nail artist. It’s a fun and jovial atmosphere as we all chat, laugh, eat (the hotel covered a long table with all sorts of breakfast items and coffee and champagne), and generally have a good time.
I’ve never had my makeup done professionally before, but my makeup artist chooses colors that complement my skin tone and my gown perfectly. I can’t stop staring at myself.
The hair stylist is arranging my hair in thick, flowing waves, and adds a sparkly gold barrette that matches the beading on my dress. Nails and toes are painted a glossy pink-ish beige hue.
I love it all, and I hope Hunter does too.
“This is my favorite part of any wedding event,” a woman named Dascha says. She’s Celeste’s oldest friend from childhood. Sipping on her champagne, she looks the most at ease with all the pampering going on.
“You and me both,” says Heidi. “Who do I have to kill to always have a glam squad at my beck and call?”
All the women snicker.
“You don’t have to kill anyone,” Victoria, Celeste’s cousin, puts in. “Just marry rich.”
My eyebrows shoot up at the bold statement. I glance at Celeste through the mirror – she’s getting glammed up at a station right behind mine. But she’s smiling, not seeming at all offended by the ‘marry rich’ comment.
“Hey,” Celeste says. “You’re not wrong.”
More laughter.
“Yes, please introduce us to some of Ben’s rich friends, Celeste. I’m single and interested.”
“I’m not single and I’m still interested,” Dascha says, and the room erupts with laughter, even the hair and makeup artists joining in.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Celeste says with a cheeky smile.
She looks incredible, nearly angelic with her blonde hair in a crown braid.
Her makeup is subtle, highlighting her natural beauty.
She’s in a silk robe like the rest of us, so I haven’t seen her in her white gown yet, but I’m sure it’s going to be exquisite.
She sips her iced coffee through a straw so as not to mess up her perfect lip liner and lipstick. I stay quiet, not wanting to join in on the conversation at all. I feel awkward, as usual, when I’m not around my friends or people my age.
So, I laugh at their jokes, but otherwise keep my mouth shut.
“Celeste, the stepmother,” Heidi says, eyes glinting with something almost sinister.
Celeste rolls her eyes. “Hardly. Hunter is 21 years old. He doesn’t need mothering.”
“Oh, no, honey, that’s where you’re wrong,” Victoria buts in. “Men of all ages are basically just little boys who always want their mommies.”
“Mhmm,” mutters the woman curling my hair.
Celeste sips on her drink, looking unruffled. “I’m never going to replace Hunter’s mother. But if he ever needs anything, he can always come to me. I’ll do my best, naturally—”
“Have you and Ben talked about having kids?” This from Heidi, who has an eyebrow arched.
Finally, Celeste looks a little bit uncomfortable. She shifts in her seat and wraps her robe tighter around her waist. “He’s open to it,” she says.
“Open to it,” Heidi repeats. “Hmm.”
Celeste swivels in her seat. “What, Heidi?”
“Nothing.” Heidi raises her hands in a mollifying gesture. “I think it’s wonderful that he’s open to it.” She smirks.
Celeste turns back around towards the vanity mirror and says nothing. A heavy silence fills the room. Mercifully, Victoria has the very smart idea to turn on some music. A bouncy beat reverberates through the room and the vibe shifts, going from tense to lighthearted.
I’m so happy when my hair and makeup is officially done, and I can go back to my hotel room. An entire block of the hotel has been reserved for guests, including me. It’s all very luxurious.
A few hours later, we’re all dressed and about to head to Hunter’s family estate, where we’ll be taking the official portraits. My heart flutters when I see Hunter in the hotel lobby. All the men are there in tuxes, waiting for us women.
Hunter’s dad looks very serious. It’s truly odd to never see him smile.
I would never want such a serious man, but Celeste nearly skips over to him with a huge smile on her face.
She looks giddy. Her dress is a true princess gown, with a wide skirt and strapless sweetheart neckline. Silk rosettes decorate the skirt.
I’m so happy for her I can’t stop smiling.
Hunter reaches for me and takes my hand. “You look gorgeous.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
We spend hours taking photos at various parts of the estate, which is huge.
The weather isn’t great, it being November, but it cooperates.
No rain. The wind is minimal. The sun even pokes through the clouds occasionally.
I’ve smiled so much my face hurts, and my feet in my high heels are begging for a break.
Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, we’re done and it’s time for cocktail hour.
Celeste and Hunter’s dad greet every guest together as they come in. Celeste’s smile never falters. I’m not sure I could be this on for hours and hours. The party is just getting started and I’m already overwhelmed.
I’m making my way to the ladies’ room when a voice beside me says, “Stuffed mushroom?” I turn toward the voice, about to say ‘no, thank you,’ when I freeze. The man in front of me, dressed as a server, is Joe. He’s holding a tray of stuffed mushrooms and smiling politely.
The smile turns into a smirk as I stare at him. “Hi, little whore,” he says in a low voice. “Enjoying the party? How much is he paying you to be his arm candy?” His mouth twists into a sneer to accompany his ugly words.
I jolt out of my stupor.
Turning towards the way I came, I walk away as quickly as I can without drawing undue attention, keeping a smile on my face the whole time.
I scan the surroundings. Hunter is by the bar with his friends and hockey teammates, talking and laughing, his glass of Coke in his hand.
I don’t want to go and tell him what happened.
There’s no point. I refuse to cause drama on Celeste’s big day.
The exit from the tent is only a few yards away.
I just have to make it there without anyone stopping me, and then I can hide in the pool house.
I make it out and into the pool house without incident.
Once inside the dimly lit space, I sink onto a couch and put my head in my hands. Taking deep breaths, I tell myself not to even think about crying.
I don’t know how Joe got a gig tonight as a server. He would sometimes serve guests at the diner when we were swamped or short staffed but being at this prestigious event is nothing like that.
I shake my head. How he got here doesn’t matter. It only matters that he is here and he’s scaring the shit out of me. He clearly knows where I’ll be at certain times, and he knows how to infiltrate those spaces. And that is beyond terrifying.
The sane voice in my head is telling me to tell Hunter immediately or at least tell his grandfather or uncle, and I’m sure they’ll get rid of Joe right away. It’s so audacious of Joe to even be here, knowing that Hunter would surely recognize him.
Why is he so obsessed with me?
Why is he so hellbent on coming after me?
And why can’t I stand up for myself?
He asked how much I’m being paid. That’s the statement that made my stomach drop. Why would he say something like that? Because he knows that Hunter and I have an arrangement? Or just to say something misogynistic to rattle me, because he’s an asshole?
A sound at the door startles me and I look up. A man enters, silhouetted by the outside light. I can’t see his face, but I know it’s Hunter from the way he carries himself.
“What are you doing in here, princess?” The sound of his voice lowers my stress levels instantly. I stay seated, tamping down the urge to fling myself at him and cry on his shoulder.
“I just needed a moment.”
He comes over slowly and sits beside me on the couch. “Not having fun?”
“I am. Getting ready and taking photos exhausted me. It’s all a little overwhelming.”
He stretches his long legs out in front of him and puts an arm around my shoulders. I snuggle against him, exhaling.
“Yeah, it is,” he says. “I haven’t liked big events like this since I was a kid. But my mom used to let me stay in my room and watch cartoons.”
I hold myself very still. Hunter almost never mentions his mother. But of course, he must be thinking about her tonight, as his dad takes a new wife, giving Hunter a young stepmother he probably doesn’t want at all.
“I bet your mom was very sweet.”
“She was.” Hunter’s fingers are idly playing with my hair. “I miss her all the time.”
“She must’ve loved you like crazy. And you her.”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice far away.
I’m terrified to move or even breathe, lest he stop talking. Hunter is very reserved. He’s barely opened up to me about his family since we’ve met, and I haven’t pried, not because I have no interest, but rather to respect his privacy.
“She was the perfect mom,” Hunter says. “Fun. She liked taking me places with her all the time, like I was her little puppy. I felt very safe with her.”
Questions crowd my mind as I consider what I can ask or say to keep him talking.
“Where would she take you?”
“Everywhere. Charity meetings, fancy boutiques, the park, the beach, lunch dates with her socialite friends.”
“Was that fun for a little boy?”
“It was for me. I just wanted to be with her all the time.” I chance a glance at him and see a sweet, soft smile on his face. My heart clenches. I wish I could hug little Hunter.
He sighs, then looks at me, and something in his eyes shifts. He’s out of the daydream.
“Let’s go back to the party,” he says. “My dad will notice we’re missing soon, if he hasn’t already.”
“Sure.” I get up and adjust my dress. Hunter gives me his arm and I slip mine through it. As we make our way back to the party, I’m on high alert, searching for Joe, trying to convince myself to be strong and tell him to fuck off if I see him again.
I should tell Hunter he’s here, but I’m reluctant to disturb his calm energy.
The sound of a string quartet playing classical music drifts toward us as we return to the tent. Cocktail hour is winding down, and people are taking their seats at their respective tables.
Sitting next to Hunter at our table makes me feel safe, but it doesn’t stop me from darting my gaze about, looking for Joe in the face of every server tonight.
None of them look suspicious.
But I do glance over my shoulder often enough that Hunter notices.
He grabs my chin, stopping my head from swiveling on my neck. “What are you looking for?”
“Oh, nothing. Just admiring all the pretty dresses.”
His eyes narrow. “Keeping secrets from me?”
I keep a poker face even as my insides are in turmoil. “No, what makes you say that?”
“You’re too fidgety. Relax. Eat.”
As if on cue, a server places a mixed green salad with beets, candied walnuts, and goat cheese in front of me. Smiling at Hunter, I pick up my fork.
More food is brought in: mussels in garlic sauce and a seafood cocktail.
For the main course, you can choose between a filet mignon with garlic mashed potatoes and seasonal vegetables or a miso glazed sea bass with roasted brussels sprouts.
I get the sea bass and Hunter gets the filet mignon and we share a little bit of our entrees with each other.
Some of Hunter’s hockey teammates are also sitting at our table.
I eat and listen to them joke around with each other, talk about yesterday’s game that they won, and how they have to keep up their winning streak. Sean is convinced that all of his lucky charms are responsible for the streak. He’s so cute with his earnest belief in superstitions.
Ryder is the friend I’m most wary of. He’s always grumpy and gruff and sometimes when he looks at me, I feel like he’s seeing right into my soul. I don’t think he likes me, or anyone for that matter.
Jamie, who is sitting on the other side of me, has always been the nicest when we’ve been in each other’s presence.
Sandwiched between him and Hunter, I completely forget about Joe.
Even though I’m not fully in Hunter’s world, I’m getting closer and closer, and that has me feeling welcomed and wanted and…
secure. Which I think is the one feeling I’ve always chased the most. Because I grew up without a dad, and he abandoned us to start another family.
I don’t think about it much anymore but being at a wedding surrounded by people celebrating love will bring out your insecurities and traumas sometimes, as odd as that sounds.
“Are you having fun now?” Hunter whispers in my ear.
I beam at him. “Yes.”
“I think you ate all my filet mignon.”
Scoffing, I look at his plate. “You ate all of it.”
He grins. “I can get another plate of it if you want. I like feeding you.”
“You’re nuts.”
“I know you’re still hungry.”
I playfully push at his shoulder “Am not. And I would never get seconds at a fancy wedding like this.”
He looks beyond me at the other guests, mostly older couples who look very dignified and a little bit haughty. “You care what these losers think? I’ll have thirds if I feel like it, just to see the look of judgment on their faces.”
Before Hunter, I really didn’t interact with any rich people at all, but I assumed they all liked and admired each other. Hunter seems to hate them all with a passion. I don’t know what to make of it.
“I have to save room for dessert,” I tell him, because I really do think he’ll get me a second plate of filet mignon just to prove a point.
He looks into my eyes for a few long seconds. “Fine,” he says. “But I’m gonna feed you the cake.”
A thrill goes through me. “I can’t wait.”
Looking around surreptitiously, I’m relieved that Joe is nowhere to be found. A coward like him wouldn’t stick around. Nonetheless, his goal was to scare me, and he succeeded. He’s stalking me and doing a good job of it.
I don’t know how he knows where I am all the time, but even if I went to the cops, how would I prove it? Joe has the upper hand and he knows it.
I know I could tell Hunter, but then what?
He’ll probably lock me up in his penthouse and never let me leave.
I pick up my lemonade in its crystal glass and take a sip. Tonight, I want to enjoy the party. Later, I’ll have to figure out how to handle Joe.