Chapter 23
ELIZABETH
This was happening fast. Too fast.
One minute, I was in a tense meeting being told that Logan and Sophie’s engagement was the only way to fix this PR disaster. The next, Logan was down on one knee in a perfectly staged moment involving fireworks, a gospel choir, and an engagement ring the size of a small country.
Thanks to me, the headlines were on the cover of every magazine:
Rock Star’s Whirlwind Engagement. Sophie’s the One!
Logan’s Past Loves (and the One Who Finally Tamed Him!)
Too Fast, Too Soon? Fans Are Shocked About the Surprise Proposal
Yeah, you and me both, fans.
After much (too much) brainstorming with Sophie’s PR team, we planned the proposal to take place on a riverboat on the Mississippi, where I timed the whole shebang to the second so that Logan could get down on one knee just as fireworks exploded over the New Orleans skyline.
The proposal itself involved a gospel choir hidden below deck that dramatically emerged mid-song, a ten-carat engagement ring that probably needed its own zip code, and a second-line parade that arrived on the dock just as Sophie said yes.
Sophie, of course, ate it all up.
Logan, on the other hand? Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly glowing with excitement.
And now, with the wedding venue (a historic mansion in the French Quarter) booked, florists and caterers fighting to be involved, and half of Hollywood on the guest list…
I was the one making it all happen.
Which was how I ended up wedding dress shopping with Sophie.
We had photographers capture the moment for posterity (and for the tabloids), but after that, it was just the two of us in a private suite of a bridal boutique, surrounded by an overwhelming amount of lace, silk, and tulle.
Sophie was thriving in her element, twirling in front of mirrors, champagne flute in hand, basking in the attention of the doting bridal consultant.
Meanwhile, I was one good inhale away from having a full-blown existential crisis.
“Okay, thoughts on this one?” Sophie turned, holding a sleek, strapless gown against her chest.
I blinked. “It’s very white.”
Sophie laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
I forced a smile. I could do this. Be supportive. Even if the bride got engaged during a fake proposal I staged. Even if the groom was my secret boyfriend.
Yeah. I was fine.
“I don’t know how you do it, Elizabeth,” Sophie said, slipping into another gown. “Seriously. You’ve been such a rock through all of this.”
I gave her a tight smile. “Well, it’s my job.”
She beamed at me in the mirror. “Which is exactly why I want you standing up there with me. Elizabeth, will you be my maid of honor?”
I choked on my champagne.
“What?” I sputtered, dabbing at my lips with a napkin.
Sophie turned, clutching the dress to her chest. “You know how much I trust you. I mean, you’re already planning the wedding. And imagine how good it’ll look for the press! It’ll show how close we are, how real this is.”
I froze, but she kept going, oblivious.
“You’d be the perfect person to be by my side. I’d be so lucky to have you.”
I forced a laugh that sounded only slightly unhinged. “Yeah. So lucky.”
The PR part of my brain knew she was right. It was the perfect cover. No one would suspect I was in love with Logan if I were standing next to his bride in a matching chiffon dress, smiling for the cameras.
The human part of me, however, was screaming. I had no idea how I was supposed to stand at that altar, holding Sophie’s bouquet, while the man I wanted was putting a ring on her finger.
And yet, I heard myself say, “Of course, I’d be honored.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Sophie beamed, clapping her hands together.
“Oh, this is going to be perfect.” But then, mid-twirl, something in her expression softened.
She smoothed the fabric of her dress again, this time slower, more thoughtfully.
Her voice was quieter when she said, “You know, sometimes the person you love isn’t the person the world expects you to love. ”
I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Sophie let out a nervous laugh and waved a hand. “I don’t know. I’m probably just, like, overwhelmed by all the wedding stuff. Ignore me.”
My brain was still turning over her words when she turned back to the mirror, tilting her head. “But, like… imagine if a princess fell in love with a regular guy.”
“A regular guy?”
She coughed. “Yeah. Like someone who works with his hands. A carpenter. Or, maybe a mechanic. Someone who builds things. Or fixes things. Who’s always covered in grease, or sawdust, or—”
“Sophie.” I held up a hand, my eyes narrowing.
She startled, then cleared her throat. “What? I’m just saying. That would be insane, right?” She laughed again, a little too high-pitched. “Could you imagine? The tabloids would lose their minds.”
Oh, I was imagining. I was imagining very hard. She was spiraling. That much was obvious.
“Sophie,” I said carefully, testing the waters. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Her whole body went stiff. “Nope!” She turned back to the mirror so fast she nearly tripped over the train of her dress. “Nope, nope, nope! Just bridal brain! Too many flowers! Too many dresses! Too much champagne!”
I narrowed my eyes. But instead of focusing on that, I turned back to the logistics. “Speaking of wedding stuff, we should probably get the marriage paperwork started soon.” I pulled out my phone. “You and Logan will need to go to the courthouse to—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Sophie dramatically collapsed onto the nearest chaise lounge. “I cannot do this,” she groaned, throwing an arm over her face like a damsel in distress.
“Sophie,” I said carefully, “did you just faint?”
She cracked one eye open. “Obviously. Do you have any idea how exhausting all of this is? The planning? The relentless need for perfection? I am wilting under the weight of this wedding, Elizabeth.”
Oh, for the love of—
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You are not wilting.”
“I am!” she cried, sitting up dramatically. “I’ll need a honeymoon from my honeymoon!”
I resisted the urge to shake some sense into her. “Okay, fine,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Why don’t we take a little break from planning?”
Sophie immediately perked up. “Ooooh, should we get mimosas?”
I squinted at her. “You almost fainted from exhaustion.”
She waved a hand. “That was ten seconds ago. I’m better now.”
I shook my head, but just then my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket, hoping for a message from Logan.
And there it was. See you soon, and a single red heart.
I exhaled, warmth blooming in my chest. Things with him were good. Better than good. Logan brought real happiness into my life.
In the middle of all this madness, we still carved out stolen moments between press events, whispered phone calls late at night, his hand brushing against mine when no one was looking. It was reckless. It was risky. And it was the only thing keeping me sane.
And now? I was about to see him. I tucked my phone away, already reaching for my bag.
“Sophie,” I said casually, “we should wrap this up.”
She barely looked up from her dress selection. “No, no, I need to try on at least five more.”
I resisted the urge to groan. “Right, but if you don’t stop now, we’re going to be late for your spray tan appointment.”
She shot up, practically knocking over a mannequin in her haste. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?! If I’m even five minutes late, they might have to bump me to the lower tier of bronzing, and I refuse to look like an undercooked biscuit.”
I grabbed her bag and handed it to her, steering her toward the door. “We don’t want that.”
She nodded, serious. “A movie star must glow, Elizabeth. I can’t be matte.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “That would be tragic.”
Sophie rushed out the door, already texting her stylist in a panic.
Just before exiting, she stopped abruptly, glancing back at me with an almost wistful expression. “You know,” she said, voice softer than before, “sometimes I think about what my life would be like if things had been different.”
I blinked. “Different, how?”
She shook her head quickly, plastering on her signature megawatt smile. “Never mind! Must be the bridal brain talking again!”
I frowned, but before I could press further, she was already gone, the door swinging shut behind her. Something about her words stuck with me.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. A slow smile spread across my face, pushing everything else aside.
I wasn’t thinking about the wedding, the lies, or what came next.
Because I was going to see Logan.