“Yes. I’ve got it.” Kinley made her way across the suite in her heavy wedding gown and opened the adjoining door.
Her best friend Annabelle, who had stayed next door last night, walked in—or tried. She was wearing the sheath Becks had selected, too. While the gray looked lovely against her café au lait skin, unfortunately Annabelle possessed curves like Kinley’s. The dress didn’t camouflage a thing.
“Hi. How are you holding up?” Her friend’s pretty round face, framed by dark curls, softened with an encouraging smile.
“Hey. I’m...” Having really cold feet and wishing my sister would shut the hell up. “Fine.” Kinley forced herself to grin back.
No sense in dragging Belle into her misery. Besides, her friend would only pounce on it.
Kinley glanced back at the Louis Vuitton vintage luggage that had been a gift from her fiancé. It was beautiful, and she’d gasped and teared up a little when he’d first given her the two trunks, two roller bags, and a brand new oversized shoulder bag that had a name, the Metis. She’d liked the jeans and blouses he’d sent along with them, although it wasn’t what she normally wore. Someone with an ass her size didn’t need to draw attention to it with a bunch of bling all over the back pockets. But her trunks and cases were all packed up and lined in a row. The Metis had a little stowaway in it, too.
“Yes, everything’s packed and ready to go,” Kinley answered dutifully. She’d spent an enormous amount of time packing. Greg had left her a list and then there was Gigi to think about. Gigi had a very sensitive stomach. She wasn’t about to hope a tropical island had the food her dog was used to. If Gigi missed a meal, the world knew it.
“And you’re taking everything Greg asked about?” Becks asked with a frown. “You don’t want to disappoint him on your honeymoon.”
Her husband-to-be had given her a list of essentials that he expected her to pack. “I’ve got everything. I’m a good girl.”
“Yes, you are. Ta-ta, sister.” With a jaunty little wave, Becks slipped out and closed the door behind her.
“You know I call her Skeletor behind her back,” Belle said with a grimace.
Repugnance shone in her dark eyes, hidden behind chunky librarian glasses. She tucked back a strand of her raven black hair. “I would say it to her face, but I tend to avert my stare. I’ve heard some Medusa-like stories about looking into your sister’s eyes.”
“You are so bad, Belle.” She held her hands out, and Belle took them immediately. Becks might be her sister by blood, but Belle was the sister of her heart. Since they’d been little girls, Belle had stood beside her. Even though Kinley’s family had been Belle’s mother’s employer, class hadn’t meant anything to either one of them.
“She’s the mean one, Kinley. You’re just too good to see it.” She stood back and shook her head. “You look so beautiful. If your mama could see you now, she would have cried.”
Kinley had really needed to hear that today. “Thank you. I have to admit, I’m going to be really happy when this whole wedding thing is all over.”
“I would be happier if we left and headed for Vegas right now. Come on. Let’s Thelma & Louise this sucker.”
“And drive off the side of the Grand Canyon?” The thought horrified Kinley.
“It would be better than marrying Greg Jansen. Before you do this, I really wish you would just meet with the private investigator—”
“No! I’m getting married in less than an hour. Don’t bring this up again. I’m marrying Greg.” She had to.
Belle sighed. “Has Mike called lately?”
She should never have told Belle about him. “He’s just a work peer. Sort of.”
“You talked to him for three hours one night, and I doubt it was all about tax exempt status and donation channels. I think you like him.”
She did. “But that’s no reason to call off the wedding, Belle. Come on…”
Her rapport with Mike had started out all business with a few calls. She’d talked about how her mom had set up Hope House and what it had meant to her to help her mother with a cause so meaningful. Before long, Mike told her about his military service and his desire to start a charity with his brothers for wounded soldiers and their families. After a couple of talks that strayed more into the personal, she’d begun looking forward to hearing his voice over the line.
One night she’d spent three hours on the phone with him, rapt and fascinated. He’d admitted that he wasn’t married or even dating now because what he really wanted was a woman to share with his brothers.
Kinley had been shocked. And utterly intrigued.
And she couldn’t even think about this again. She had to marry Greg. Her father’s chemo bills were stacking up, and he didn’t need the added stress of wondering where the money was going to come from. He was so embarrassed by his weakness and distressed about it all that he wouldn’t even allow her to go with him to his therapy sessions. And with her charity about to go belly up, Kinley needed the money, too. She couldn’t allow years of her mother’s good work to end.
So she had to sacrifice and do what thousands of women had done before her. She had to keep her chin up and make the best of things. “I love Greg.”
She couldn’t tell Belle that she was basically prostituting herself. Besides, if she said it enough, maybe she could make it true. Kinley was a great believer in affirmations. If that didn’t work…maybe Becks was right, and no one was really happy in marriage. Maybe all a woman could do was put on a smile the same way she affixed her makeup.
“Sure you do.” Belle rolled her eyes, then looked around the room. “Where’s Gigi?”
Her little Yorkie baby had shown her deep disdain for the proceedings by crawling into Kinley’s Louis Vuitton bag and settling down for a nap. Gigi had taken an almost instant dislike to Greg and everyone on his side of the wedding party. At first, Kinley had thought it would be fun to include her little dog in the ceremony, but Gigi had refused to go anywhere near her fiancé. “She’s asleep. She had a rough night.”
“Yes, she did. She growled at Greg all through the rehearsal dinner. Your dog is very smart.”
Kinley wanted to cry. She was utterly and completely alone, and arguing with her best friend in the world sent her into a tailspin. “I wish you could accept that Greg is going to be a part of my life.”
Belle leaned in. “Are you doing this because you need a man? I can get you one. If you’re not interested in California Mike, I can find you the hottest man who will rock your world. Then you will forget you ever heard the name Greg Jansen. As a matter of fact, I could find you two or three amazing guys. I could get them here really fast, too.”